"Finally he at least tries to fight like a man. Let's see if he can die like one."
Feltrino swung several long, swooping blows at Hansum. Hansum blocked them, but he could tell he was still being played with. Four, five, six blows in a row came from above, all like the play-fighting he had practiced at History Camp. Feltrino then sliced his sword sideways, stopping the blade in mid-air, posing, like someone in a play, teasing Hansum. Then his eyes narrowed and he took a deep breath. He squared off his stance and smiled.
"Goodbye, apprentice." Feltrino pulled his sword back and slashed so hard that when it connected with Hansum's blade it flew from Hansum's hand and landed fifteen feet away by the cliff edge. "No time to pray, I'm afraid," Feltrino said, and Hansum ran, diving for the sword.
"Romero!" Guilietta cried.
A rumble in the distance. Hansum saw Feltrino spin toward the noise. There were at least ten horses riding at full speed up the river toward them.
"Damn. No more playing." Hansum was now on his knees, his sword back in his hand. Feltrino came running at him, sword extended. "DIE APPRENTICE!" A hard ruby light emitted from Hansum's shoulder, straight into Feltrino's eyes. He screamed in agony.
"Fall to the side, Master Hansum!" Pan cried. Hansum did as he was told and Feltrino's sword sunk into the earth right where Hansum had been kneeling. Feltrino fell to the ground in a heap, still screaming in pain. Hansum fell upon him and punched him in the face over and over again, completely out of control. After a number of punches, Feltrino fought back. Hansum, grasping for something hard to hit Feltrino with, grabbed the case with the looker from off of Feltrino's back and started beating him with it. He felt it bend and crumple, then tore it away and threw it into the grass, continuing to pummel him with his fists.
"Get up, Hansum," Pan shouted. "Get up! Get up! It's too dangerous to be in contact with even a blind Feltrino. Get up and get your sword!"
Hansum rolled off and quickly got his sword, holding it out in front of him, the point about six inches from Feltrino, who was still fumbling for his prey. Hansum reached forward carefully, grabbed Feltrino's sword and threw it over the cliff and into the water. Then he backed off.
"Where are you, apprentice? Fight me, apprentice!" Feltrino shouted from his knees.
"No, Feltrino," Hansum said. "I . . . I don't want to kill you." Feltrino seemed to relax and Hansum raised the sword to his shoulder.
"Over here, Captain, they're over here," a soldier's voice shouted. Hansum looked up the path and saw the Podesta's cavalry hurtling toward them. Then he turned to Guilietta, who was still sitting, tied to her horse. Their scared eyes met. When they saw they were both alive and safe, they smiled.
***
Feltrino's blindness wasn't black, but red. He blinked hard, trying to make his eyes work. Finally, a little bit of the world began to seep back into his vision. He saw the ground, then the apprentice's feet not too far away. He saw the cliff, the running water, and as he turned his head, he could just make out a mass of moving muscle, horses thundering toward him. He stealthily looked up and saw the apprentice, his sword stupidly resting on his shoulder. He was even looking away. Feltrino reached down to his side and slowly took his dagger from its sheath. He leaned forward.
"ROMERO! A KNIFE!" he heard the girl scream.
Through his still-blurred vision, Feltrino saw the sword blade flash toward him. It caught his hand at the base of his thumb and then the only sound he heard was the metal of the sword hit the knife's hilt. He saw red again, but it was the red of his own blood gushing from where his thumb had been. Feltrino fell to the ground, then saw and felt the sword blade at his throat. 'So this is my death,' he thought. 'I'm sorry, Father. I have failed you.' Feltrino looked up into the eyes of his executioner, but he did not see his death there. He saw the apprentice look up quickly at the approaching horses. 'NOW!' Feltrino screamed in his mind. Without hesitation, he rolled toward the cliff. He felt himself momentarily in the air and then cold, fast-running water enveloped him. When he bobbed to the surface he was a good fifty paces from his enemies and traveling away at great speed.
***
Hansum turned and watched Feltrino bobbing up and down in the water, thrashing his hands to steady himself and not drown. He was soon hundreds of paces away. As many horses thundered around him, Hansum felt himself running to Guilietta and pulling at her bonds to free her. He helped her off of the horse, flung his arms around her and kissed her long on the mouth. The first words he heard were the Podesta's.
"She is like a sister to him."
Hansum heard a loud guffaw of male laughter, but he didn't care. He held onto Guilietta for dear life, and she to him. Tears were streaming from both their eyes. Things quieted as the soldiers were given orders. The Captain sent two men to try to catch Feltrino, his horse was being searched and so was the area. After a minute, Hansum felt a tap on his shoulder. It was the Podesta. He was holding the crumpled looker.
"You left none of the work for us, Romero," he said with a smile on his face. Hansum couldn't answer. He felt so full of emotion, he just stood there, shaking. The Podesta looked at him quizzically. "Why did you let him live?" he asked. "I would have sanctioned his death." Hansum couldn't get any words out, his chest now heaving in great gasps.
"Excellency," called one of the soldiers, picking something off the ground. "He didn't let all of him go. Look, a noble thumb." All the soldiers laughed. He brought it over and put it right in front of Hansum's face. Torn ligaments hung from pink flesh. The recognizable thumbnail looked ghoulishly out of place. "Do you wish to keep it as a prize, Signor?"
"Or maybe a meal," another soldier joked. Everybody laughed uproariously.
The soldier with the thumb opened his mouth and held the severed digit between his lips, smiling.
Hansum fell to his knees and retched.
Chapter 67
They didn't find Feltrino. He could have drowned or he could have made it to the other side of the river. It was getting dark when they finally came out of the hills and onto the road back to Verona. Guilietta was sitting sideways in front of Hansum. Both were exhausted.
"I'm sorry I wasn't man enough to kill him for you," Hansum said to her. "I would have if I had to."
"I'm glad you are a man who doesn't kill unnecessarily," she answered.
"My love . . . Feltrino? Did he . . . ?" Hansum began to ask, "Did he . . . ?
"No. No, my love." Guilietta replied, worry in her eyes. "Truly." Hansum smiled at her.
"Sleep, my darling," he said lovingly into her ear. "We've a long ride home."
Two soldiers were ordered to ride ahead quickly to Verona and give the news. The rest would trudge on, expecting to get back home early in the morning. The night was mild and clear and the moon was rising. Hansum had been so upset that everyone was letting him be, riding at the rear. He just rode along through the night, Guilietta sleeping in his arms. Though his body hurt in every place possible, and though he had experienced the most terrifying day of his life, he was content. Happiness flowed through him. He even dozed as his horse walked along. It was coming to the predawn when he began to feel calm again. His thoughts returned to the problem of the looker order. One of the soldiers called that the walls of the city were in sight. They would be home in an hour. Hansum perked up. He could overhear the Podesta talking to Captain Caesar about the cannons he had seen in Germany. Hansum gently sped his horse up to come abreast of them.
"War will be different with these apparatus, Marcus," the Podesta was saying. "If we can get control of these before the others in this region, we can dominate. Ah, Romero, you've recovered your composure."
"Yes, Excellency. Grazie."
"We have with us not only a young man of talent," the Podesta pronounced, "but also one of action."
"I've never experienced such a thing," Hansum admitted. "Excuse my emotions."
"But how did you overpower him, Signor," the captain asked.
"Luck," Hansum answered. The Podesta laug
hed. "Excellency, may I speak to you about these cannon?"
"Master Hansum, what are you doing?" Pan whispered in an exasperated tone.
Hansum saw the Podesta look over at the captain and smile.
"Leave us, Marcus," the Podesta said, still smiling. "What do you wish to speak of, Romero?"
"If Verona had superior cannon, this would be a good thing?"
"A very good thing. Princes are always wanting better tools of war. Like your lookers, it gives us advantages. Romero, are you saying you know something more of cannon than just their existence?"
"Master, please don't go here," Pan warned. "You don't know what . . ."
"This may sound strange, Excellency," Hansum said, ignoring Pan, "but I can't really say what I know right now."
"You know nothing and you must say nothing."
"Perhaps when we get back to Verona," Hansum continued, "I can draw up some papers on the subject and we can examine them together."
"This is a dangerous game . . ."
The Podesta stretched his arms out to the moon and laughed.
"God in his heaven is truly shining down on me and my Verona. Of course, Romero, of course. I will look at anything you want to show me."
"Thank you, Excellency. It may take some days."
"It may take forever. Or never!" Pan whispered. "The battle has driven you insane."
"Can I ask you about something else, Excellency?"
"Oh no. Now what?"
"Certainly," Mastino answered.
"The order for the lookers," Hansum said.
"Oh, I get it now. Clever, Master Hansum. Clever."
"Of course, of course. Why didn't I see this coming," Mastino laughed. "You are negotiating. Romero, why don't you just ask me for a boon because of your heroism, my son?"
"Perhaps I will," Hansum said. "But I sincerely believe we can deliver the lookers in good time."
"Romero, our concerns are sincere too. To judge what a man will do in the future, look to how he has acted in the past. Our fear is that if Master della Cappa becomes involved in larger projects, and with all the pressures that comes with them, he might turn to the wine again. It is his weakness."
"My Master has exchanged his weakness for the joy he gains from his family and his work. And the memory of his troubles, and the ill it brought the family, these reinforce his resolve."
"And you, Romero? Are you resolved?" Mastino questioned.
"I think I can speak for all the youth of my house when I say we have both the desire and motivations to make our lives secure. We all know what has to be done and why."
"Such wisdom for one so young," Mastino said. "Well, what must I do, Lord?" Mastino said looking up at the moon again, "Shall I change my mind for Romero's sake? He did bring me the looker."
"Excellency, I promise you," Hansum said, "the house of della Cappa has many more ideas to bring you. This I promise."
"Ah, a promise?" Mastino said. "A promise."
Guilietta stirred, waking up. She opened her eyes and looked at Hansum. She smiled. When she saw the Podesta, she looked a little frightened. Mastino smiled gently and flicked his reins, moving his horse forward to give Hansum and Guilietta privacy.
"I shall think on it, Romero," he called back. "I shall think on it."
Guilietta looked at Hansum questioningly.
Chapter 68
"Guilietta!" the Signora shrieked. "Guilietta!" She came and flung herself against the haunch of Hansum's horse, grabbing her daughter's leg and hugging it. Hansum lowered Guilietta down and the poor girl was engulfed by her mother. Hansum looked and saw the household all outside, faces beaming, jumping up and down. Tears were already streaming from Master della Cappa's face as he joined his wife in embracing their child. Lincoln and Shamira were smiling up at Hansum, and Hansum couldn't believe how sore he was as he made his way off the horse. Lincoln had to steady him as his legs almost gave way.
"Ho there, old boy," Lincoln laughed.
Shamira ran her hand over all the scratches and dirt on Hansum's face, then took one of his hands and examined the ripped calluses and cuts.
Even Nicademo's carriage was at the house. The Baron walked up and took the reins of Mastino's horse, which was at the head of all the soldiers.
"You've come back safely and successfully, my Lord. I'm so glad. Ride in the carriage from here."
"In a minute," Mastino said.
Hansum looked and saw the Podesta surveying the reunion, especially the Master. When Master della Cappa saw the nobleman watching him, he released himself from his family and clamored over to Mastino. He fell to his knees and kissed the Podesta's muddy boot.
"I don't care if we've lost the contract for the lookers, Excellency. You've brought my daughter back to me. Grazie, grazie. We can have a life making the discs for the eyes, but what is life without a child?"
"You're welcome, della Cappa. You're welcome. But you must thank Romero for your daughter's life." Agistino looked wide-eyed at Hansum. "And as for your living . . . Master della Cappa, please get up. That's better. Now Signor, listen. Romero has assured me of your sobriety and fidelity if you are given the contract for lookers. What do you say to that?" Agistino looked confused. Every eye was upon him. The air was silent. "So, what do you say?" Mastino repeated. "Will you deliver and be constant? And sober?"
"Answer our Lord," the Baron said, a huge smile on his face.
"Oh, si, your Excellency, oh si, si, si. I will be constant and faithful," he said, finally finding words. "I, I will deliver without fail. Without fail. And if wine ever touches these lips, I have already sworn that an angel of God may strike me down with fire!"
"Then listen carefully, Master della Cappa," Mastino continued. "One thousand lookers for King Karl of Luxembourg and five hundred for Ludwig of Wittelsbach. I give these orders . . . to you."
The news hit Agistino so hard that he tottered off balance and ended up sitting on the running board of the carriage. Nicademo came over and banged the Master on the back.
"It's an especially good day now, eh Agistino?" the Baron laughed.
Agistino's eyes began to well up with more tears, which he tried to stop by forcing a smile, which only turned into a comically-contorted grimace.
"It is a very good day, Excellency," Agistino said in a whimper. "I'm very glad," and then he broke down completely and cried.
"No tears, della Cappa. I thought I could trust you?" Mastino laughed. "Does everybody of this house break out in tears when they are happy?"
"It appears so," Hansum said, helping Agistino to his feet. The whole family came over and crowded together.
"Oh, I can't stand this, Nikki," the Podesta said, getting off his horse and heading toward the carriage. "Let's go home." He turned before climbing up and called, "Della Cappa." The group turned toward him. "Bring Signor Romero to the palace with you next week to work out the contract." He climbed into the carriage and then turned. "One more thing." Everybody turned to listen to what he had to say. "We will loan you the money to clear your debts in Florence."
A collective gasp came from the della Cappa household. Agistino had to be propped up again. The Signora actually fell to her knees and started praying.
"Yes, Excellency," Agistino whimpered, still swaying. "Grazie, Excellency. Without fail, Excellency, without fail," he kept repeating. "Without fail."
"Come Master," Hansum said gently."Let's go in the house."
"And Romero," Mastino continued.
"Yes, Excellency?" Hansum asked as the group stopped and turned again.
"Romero, remember your promise."
Hansum released himself from the group, looked the Podesta in the eye, smiled, and then bowed.
Chapter 69
Hansum was back home with his parents in the twenty-fourth century. He was sitting in their garden, just outside their domed house, overlooking the pristine Hudson River. It was a beautiful, sunny day. He was telling his parents all about the battle with Feltrino, how he had negotiated with Masti
no della Scalla to exchange information about advanced cannon for the order of telescopes, and how he was in love with the most wonderful girl from any century, Guilietta. Hansum turned and looked at Guilietta, presenting her to his parents. Hansum's mother smiled and hugged the young woman who was to become her daughter-in-law. Hansum's father laughed happily.
"You genies," Charlene was saying to Pan. "I can't believe you gave them advanced technological information from the future. Fixing the timeline has been such a mess for the Time Commission."
"I tried to tell Master Hansum we shouldn't do it," Pan said, "but he convinced me that it was a matter of necessity. Shamira and I worked two long nights on those plans of advanced cannon and black powder. It was the only thing to convince the Podesta."
"And how did that work out for you, son?" Hansum's father asked.
"Oh, it worked out just . . ." Hansum began to say, and then he paused. He couldn't remember how it all came out in the end.
"And this whole adventure?" Hansum's mother asked. Her History Camp elder's pin gleamed in the sunlight. "How did it work out for you, son? Do you get it now?"
"So, is everybody ready for repast?" Hansum's father interrupted. "Carmella has a wonderful meal ready for us."
"Carmella?" Hansum said. "I told you, Dad, her name is Shamira."
"You are so beautiful, Guilietta," Hansum's mother said, now with tears in her eyes. She held Guilietta's face in her hands and kissed it. "My son loves you so much. I wish I could be around to see my grandchildren."
"Mother, what are you talking . . ."
"I said, a wonderful meal is ready," Father repeated. But his voice was much gruffer.
"Hey, you sound like . . ."
"Romero, wake up," the Master's voice shouted. "Romero, wake up!" Hansum opened his eyes. Master della Cappa's head was sticking out of the opening to the loft. He was scrubbed clean, beard trimmed, and not only had his new cap on, but also a wonderful jacket, vest and shirt. "Good morning, my son," he said smiling. "Everyone else is awake and dressed. We're waiting on you to eat."
"Buon giorno, Master," Hansum yawned.
"How are your wounds?" Agistino enquired.
"Oh, much better," Hansum groaned, raising himself up. He still felt incredibly sore, and his body, especially his legs and butt, continued to be badly bruised from the hard riding and fighting the week before.