Page 16 of The Wind Dancer


  She didn't answer and a moment later she heard the door close behind him.

  "She's awake."

  Lion turned quickly to see Lorenzo clinging desperately to the rail as he struggled toward the forecastle over the rain-slick deck.

  "And I hope you appreciate the extreme discomfort I'm suffering to inform you of the fact."

  Lion's hands tightened on the tiller. "She is... well?"

  "If you mean, did Damari succeed in driving her mad while he tortured her, he did not." Lorenzo drew his short cape about him to protect his nape from the cold, driving rain. "I didn't think he'd be able to break her."

  Lion's face was a savage mask. "Cristo, he tried hard enough. Did she talk about it?"

  "No." Then, as Lion continued to look at him, he shrugged. "She said something about a hammer."

  Lion felt as though he had been struck in the stomach with the same mallet. "Take the tiller," he said to the seaman standing behind him. He moved to the rail beside Lorenzo, gazing blindly out at the tempest swept sea. "I should have gotten there sooner."

  "Three days to ride to Pisa, persuade Brelono to release his troop, and launch an attack on the palazzo smacks of miracles."

  Lion reached out to grip the rail with white-knuckled force. "I shouldn't have waited. I should have thought of another way."

  "You're becoming boringly repetitive. There was no other way."

  Lion hadn't thought so at the time, but that didn't help him to forget the moment when he had found Sanchia curled up unconscious on the floor of the cell. She had looked... broken.

  And then he had seen her hand.

  "I'm going to kill Damari."

  "I presumed as much. I suppose you wouldn't let me do it for you?"

  "No." Lion released his grip on the rail and turned. "I'm going to the cabin to see Sanchia."

  "She's probably asleep again."

  "Then I'll wait until she wakes up." He had a hunger to see her, to know she was no longer the pale, shattered child he had carried aboard the Dancertwo days before.

  "Lion."

  He glanced over his shoulder.

  "She's not mad." Lorenzo hesitated before finally finishing, "But she's different."

  "In what way?"

  "I'm not certain."

  "By all the saints, what do you mean?"

  "I think she's... " Lorenzo paused again, thinking about it. "I think she's more than she was. There's a strength... " He shrugged. "I could be wrong. Judge for yourself."

  "You leave me with no other choice." Lion strode down the steps of the bridge and across the deck toward the cabin.

  A moment later he stood beside the bed looking down at Sanchia's pale, drawn face. Strength? It must be Lorenzo who had gone mad. Sanchia looked as delicate as the most fragile of blossoms. Rage seared through him as his gaze fell on her bandaged hand. Damari. Dear God, he wanted that son of a bitch.

  Sanchia's lids twitched as if she had become aware that someone was watching her. She opened her eyes abruptly. Her gaze was totally alert and without fear.

  Lion's muscles locked with tension as her compelling gaze fastened on his face. She stared at him without speaking and Lion suddenly found himself uneasy. He reached out awkwardly and touched her cheek. "Lorenzo tells me you're feeling better."

  "Yes."

  "Soon you'll be well."

  She did not answer.

  His hand dropped away from her face. "Is there anything I can get you? Are you thirsty?"

  "No." Her gaze moved over him indifferently. "You're very wet."

  "It's raining."

  "Then you're foolish to be out in it."

  "It was necessary. It's not a bad storm but there's always danger. It took me two years to build this ship, and I dislike the idea of its sinking to the bottom of the sea because I am not at the helm."

  "I understand." She was silent a moment. "Why are you here?"

  The bluntness of the question startled him as much as that first piercing glance had done. "Because I wanted to see for myself that you were on the mend."

  "I don't want you here. Will you leave?"

  Surprise held him wordless for a moment and then he smiled. "And what will you do if I won't?"

  She failed to return his smile. "Nothing." She closed her eyes. "I'm too weak to fight you... now."

  The last word held an odd quality of threat, Lion realized. Threats from Sanchia who had always been so frightened? So eager to please? "And later?"

  "Later I will deal with you." Her eyes remained closed. "Lion."

  She had not addressed him as my lord, as was her custom, but Lion. It was the address he had requested from her, but now his name came with no hesitation or prompting. She could not have shown more confidence and authority if she had been raised to be the lady of a great house.

  He deliberately turned and sat down in the chair against the wall. "I will stay. You may need me."

  "I don't need you. I'll never need you." She deliberately turned on her side. "But stay if you like. Your presence or absence mean nothing to me."

  She had closed him out. She had stepped away from him to a place he couldn't follow, Lion realized with a queer twisting sensation in his belly. Nothing could be more clear from the crystalline coldness of her manner toward him. Why should he be surprised that she blamed him for all that happened to her? He knew the fault rested squarely on his shoulders and she was right in her anger. She had suffered and she deserved his patience. "It means something to me," he said gently. "I'll stay by your side, Sanchia."

  She didn't answer, and he realized she had stepped even farther away from him into the realm of sleep.

  "I brought Sanchia up on deck to get some air. Really, Lion, I'm not the woman's nursemaid." Lorenzo added plaintively, "Though anyone would draw that conclusion from the way I've bathed, dressed, and tended her these last days. If you wanted her cosseted and cared for, you should have brought a servant on board before we left Pisa." He paused. "Or done it yourself. You haven't set foot in her cabin since the first day she woke."

  "You know I had no time to find a maid for her with Damari on our heels."

  "I notice you don't address my second suggestion."

  "She had no desire for my presence." Lion's grip tightened on the tiller. "She made that clear."

  "So you meekly run and hide away from her lest your offensive self distress her."

  "She's ill, damn you."

  "Not any longer." Lorenzo's gaze went to Sanchia, who stood at the rail several yards away. The strong afternoon sunlight stroked her auburn hair with flame as gusts tossed it about. Her face was raised as if she were drinking in both the warmth of the sun and the vigor of the wind. "She has her strength back and she's come alive. Damari did no real damage, except to her hand, and it's healing nicely. She's in a far from delicate state." He nodded toward Sanchia. "Go see for yourself."

  Lion looked quickly at her, then away. "For God's sake, quit prodding me. Do you want her in my bed so badly you'd yank her into it when she's still not well?"

  "Did I mention bedding?" Lorenzo asked innocently. "Could it be your thoughts aren't as pure as you'd have me believe? She's changed, you know. We both noticed it. Tell me, Lion, has it not occurred to you that it would be like bedding someone else entirely now? The same sweet body but there would be certain differences. You've always had such a curious mind. Would you not like to explore those differences?"

  Lion averted his face. "No, it hasn't occurred to me."

  "Lies." Lorenzo chuckled. "You'll have to go to confession when you get back to Mandara and be absolved of that sin. Do you think Sanchia will like Mandara?"

  "She won't get the opportunity to like or dislike it. She's staying in Genoa, as you well know."

  "And we arrive in Genoa the day after tomorrow?"

  Lion's lips twisted. "Not enough time for you, Lorenzo?"

  "I would prefer more, but it should prove sufficient. However, since you're displaying an unusual amount of resistance, I shall
stop being subtle."

  "Subtle?"

  Lorenzo ignored the sarcasm in Lion's tone. "I will have nothing more to do with Sanchia while we're on board the ship. She's your property and you must care for her as you see fit." He frowned thoughtfully. "Except to change her bandage. I'm having enough trouble contending with these idiotic feelings of responsibility you're experiencing without having you go squeamish. I might never get you to see sense." He turned away. "You notice the wind has come up and Sanchia does not have her shawl. She could take a chill."

  "But she's not at all delicate," Lion ironically repeated Lorenzo's words.

  Lorenzo shrugged as he walked over to the rail and leaned his elbows on it. "Perhaps she's more fragile than I thought. Who am I to say? I'm no physician."

  And he proceeded to gaze placidly out to sea, ignoring both Lion on the forecastle and Sanchia on the deck.

  Lion stayed on the forecastle for another fifteen minutes before he said sharply to the seaman behind him, "Take the tiller." He strode past a grinning Lorenzo, down the steps, then across the deck to where Sanchia stood at the rail.

  "The wind is sharpening. Go back to your cabin," he said tersely.

  "Soon." She didn't look at him. "I like it here. I feel as if I can see forever. What's beyond the horizon?"

  His gaze followed hers to the point where the sea met the sky. "It depends on how far you travel. Until recently most men believed that there were only dragons waiting to devour you as you fell off the edge of the earth."

  "Tales to frighten children," she said impatiently. "I've heard stories of great explorers who have sailed vast distances and discovered wondrous treasures."

  "Lands overflowing with gold and silver, boundless forests, fierce savages." He paused. "And dragons."

  "Christopher Columbus found no dragons." She glanced up at him with a frown. "You surely don't believe in such monsters?"

  "I believe there are dangers for the unwary whenever you travel the unknown and that you must be prepared for them." He smiled faintly. "And that there are many kinds of dragons."

  "But the possibility of dragons wouldn't stop you from seeing what is beyond that horizon?"

  "No."

  "It wouldn't stop me either. There is so much out there...." The passionate intensity vibrating in Sanchia's voice was reflected in her luminous expression and eyes glowing with eagerness. Bemused, Lion gazed at her. She had come alive, as Lorenzo had said. It was as if she had been asleep before and now had come fully awake.

  "Don't you see? There is so much promise in that horizon."

  A pang of tenderness stirred within him. He had felt that same sense of revelation on a day over two years ago when he had stood on the dock in Venice and realized a lifetime of dissatisfaction had led him there. "Yes, I do see. Endless promise."

  "I want to see all the lands that Columbus saw and more."

  He smiled indulgently. "Perhaps someday I'll take you on a voyage of discovery and we'll find--" He stopped as he watched her expression become shuttered. A poignant sense of loss that withdrawal brought kindled him to sudden anger. "What am I thinking? Voyages of discovery are not for women." He paused before adding with deliberate provocation, "but, if you're very good and obedient, I may bring you back a gift to solace you for what you've missed."

  She didn't answer. Her gaze remained fixed on the horizon.

  "Why do you not speak?" His tone was taunting. "You know I'm right. Women have no place on great journeys. They must stay at home and weave tapestries and--"

  "And where do they have a place?" Sanchia whirled to face him. "In a man's bed, waiting to take his seed? In a dungeon, waiting to take his punishment?"

  He felt as if she had struck him and his anger abruptly dissipated. "Sanchia, I would not have left the maze had I known you were in danger. I had no idea Damari was so close."

  "Because I chose not to let you know. Because I was foolish enough to try to lead them away to give us all a chance."

  Lion gazed at her incredulously. "You led him--" He reached out and grasped her shoulders. "Were you mad? Why didn't you let me know? I could have--"

  "You could have done nothing." Sanchia broke free of him and stepped back. "And I knew there was nothing you could do so I led Damari away. I was going to double back and join you, but Damari caught me." She stared into his eyes. "And you left me."

  "Sanchia... " Lion didn't know what to reply. What could he say to defend himself when the charge was true? "At the time I could see no other way. If they had caught the rest of us, we all could have gone to our deaths."

  "Do you think I'm a fool who cannot reason? For a while I was stupid enough to hold on to the blind belief that you'd be coming for me any moment, simply because you had promised me." She drew a deep breath and made an impatient gesture with her bandaged left hand. "But then I forced myself to weigh what was true and what was not true. I had to do so or I would have been destroyed by anger. At times I thought I'd choke and be consumed by rage."

  Lion felt a wrenching pity as he looked down at her bandaged hand. "I would have felt the same."

  "Yes, you would have known anger, but you have no true idea how I felt in that dungeon." She turned away and gazed out to sea, the line of her spine straight and unyielding. "Because you were never as helpless as I was in that cell, as helpless as I've been all my life. You abandoned me, but I knew it was my fault in part for choosing to lead Damari away without telling you. You're not a man to give a promise lightly, and you probably would have tried to keep it." Her smile was bittersweet. "Even though your promise was given to a slave."

  "I had every intention of keeping it."

  "So, in a way, it was my choice. It wasn't the broken promise that made me so angry."

  His gaze was intent on her face. "Then what?"

  "That I was in the maze with you at all."

  He stiffened. "You chose to go. I didn't force you."

  "Do you know the reason I went?" She laughed incredulously. "It was because you smiled at me. Because I was so grateful you were treating me with kindness and a sort of camaraderie that I would have gone anywhere, done anything to have you continue to treat me so." Her gaze shifted to his face. "And I think you knew that if you were kind to me, I would go with you and you need not feel accountable."

  His lips tightened. "You believe me to be so ruthless?"

  "Yes." She held his gaze steadily. "I think you would have done anything to get the Wind Dancer back from Damari. In comparison, I had no real value to you. I was only your slave to be used." She shrugged. "Perhaps you didn't even know you were doing it."

  Could she be right? He had wanted the Wind Dancer desperately and he had needed her help to retrieve it. Had he tried to woo her with kindness when his promise had kept him from commanding her to come with him? If that were true, then his guilt was even greater than he had thought. "You do have value for me."

  "Do I? Now that you have the Wind Dancer back you have no need for a thief. Do you intend to use my body and make me into a whore for your pleasure?"

  Her words stung him. "A whore is paid and I have no intention of paying for your services. Both you and Giovanni have already received quite enough from me." He smiled caustically. "And why should I not use you? You didn't seem averse once I showed you the way of it. I found you extremely eager to please. My pleasure was also your pleasure."

  The color rose to her cheeks. "You did give me pleasure but... " She stopped, searching for words. "It was a false pleasure, a forced pleasure, because I did not choose it. You took my body because you thought you owned it." Her eyes suddenly glittered with cold rage. "You do not own it. You do not own me."

  Shock ran through him, whatever he had expected it wasn't this complete rejection. "I have a bill of sale that states otherwise."

  "I don't care what your bill of sale says. It's wrong for a person to be able to own another person. It should not happen. All my life I accepted being a slave because my mother said I must. She told me I would al
ways be a slave. She said Giovanni had a right to do anything he wanted with us because he had bought us. Well, she was wrong, Giovanni was wrong, and you're wrong. When I was in Damari's filthy dungeon I realized no one has a right to make me do what I don't want to do because of a piece of paper." She drew a deep breath and went on with a rush, "I'm no longer your slave and I won't obey you."

  He went still. "The hell you won't," Lion said softly. "You may think of me as the devil himself, but you belong to this particular devil and I'll tolerate no defiance."

  "I have to defy you."

  "Your memory is short. You gave me your promise of loyalty."

  "Not because you bought me but because you helped Elizabet and the others. I paid that debt in Damari's dungeon." She held up her bandaged hand. "You took your Wind Dancer but I was the one who paid its ransom. We're even now, Lion."

  He glanced away from her hand and out to sea. "Perhaps in your eyes but not the eyes of the law."

  "And in your eyes too," she said fiercely. "You know my debt is paid to you. Why do you not admit it?"

  "I do admit it. Your debt is paid," he said quietly. "But the bill of sale remains."

  "Then tear it up. Free me."

  He shook his head. "Why should I free you?"

  "Because it's just," she said. "Dear God, there has to be some justice in the world or nothing makes sense."

  "You believe you want to be free now. But think about it. As my slave you're under my protection. Life isn't easy for a woman alone."

  "I know. I used to believe a slave was sometimes luckier than a free woman. But I was wrong." She took a step closer. "A free woman has choices. I had none. What I suffered in Damari's dungeon was only because I was your slave--doing what you willed. If I ever have to suffer like that again, it will be because I believe what I'm suffering for is worth the price of my pain." She shook her head. "You would give me no choices. I don't want to be under your protection."

  "How very unfortunate, since you most certainly are under my protection and will remain with me."

  "You will not free me, even though you know it's right to do so?"

  He smiled at her mockingly. "How do I know what is right? What is wrong? Is it right to deprive myself of my own property? Would it not be wrong to take away my protection when Damari would like nothing better than to lay hands on you again?" His mockery faded to be replaced by grimness. "Don't seek to tutor me on what is right, Sanchia. Rightness lies with the holder of power."