Rora by James Byron Huggins Read Free Book Online Page B

Inquisitor had spoken, Mario focused on him openly. "Fifty pieces of gold was promised ..."
    Incomel laughed. "That was for an attack, Captain, not a retreat."
    Mario stared bitterly.
    A guard appeared in the distant portal of the hall as Pianessa continued to contemplate. Then the marquis finally recognized the shadow looming across the hall and raised his head.
    "Yes?"
    The guard spoke loudly enough for the Inquisitors to hear: "Ambassadors from Rora, My Lord! They humbly but urgently request your attention!"
    The Inquisitors moved gracefully toward a corridor and exited the hall—no words, no gestures, no questions. Pianessa stared after them until they were gone, then made a slashing gesture for Mario to follow. When he was utterly alone upon his throne, he nodded to the guard.
    In seconds two men stood before the massive black marble throne, and Pianessa stared over them. He seemed surprised at their dust-cloaked condition and weapons and scowled as they knelt.
    The one who appeared to be a pastor spoke first. "My Lord Marquis de Pianessa, I am Descombie, and this is Sergeant Michael Bertino. We come as peaceful ambassadors for the valley of Rora, one of Your Lordship s territories."
    Whatever anger had vexed Pianessa s face moments ago was replaced by the indulgent suffering of a benevolent monarch as he stared over the heavily armed sergeant. But Pianessa displayed no shock that the pastor also bore rifle and pistol and saber.
    "Rise," Pianessa said sullenly. "Speak."
    Descombie took a single step forward. His tone was calm and restrained. "My Lord Pianessa, we are ambassadors for Rora, your land above the Pelice. And we come to ask why you would launch an attack on our village."
    Pianessa allowed an impression of great fatigue. "That is answered easily enough, Priest. I did not order any such attack on your village, nor have I considered one."
    Utter silence prevailed. Descombie looked at Bertino.
    "Priest," Pianessa continued wearily, "those were not my men who attacked you. Those were bandits who have been pillaging Piedmont." With a questioning glare, he scowled before he leaned forward. "Are you so ignorant of what is happening in your own country, Priest? Do you not know we are at war?"
    Descombie opened his mouth, but Pianessa pressed, "Well? How many of them did you kill? Surely you have done some good!"
    "We counted fifty-five dead, My Lord. We wounded, perhaps, thirty more."
    For a moment Pianessa seemed to weigh whether that was a meaningful contribution. With tactical analysis he muttered, "Can you lead my forces to them?"
    "No, My Lord." Descombie noticed Bertino searching the corners of the hall. "They fled the valley in discord. We do not know where they are encamped."
    Pianessa was not utterly disappointed. "Good, then they are at the mercy of my patrols in the valley." He continued to nod with satisfaction, an overburdened commander brought back to the moment by concern for his people. "Ah, forgive me—the troubles of war. Were any of your people injured?"
    "No, My Lord. We suffered not a single man, wounded or killed."
    Pianessa's initial response was silence. "Not a single loss?" He stared longer. "Not owe?"
    "No, My Lord."
    Pianessa chewed a corner of his mustache—an uncommon act for nobility. "Tell me," he continued, with a certain craftiness, "how is it that your people managed to fight off these bandits when the entire valley of Piedmont lies in flames?"
    At that, the one named Bertino stepped forward. "There is no need for My Lord to worry himself. We are heavily armed with cannon and rifles and are prepared to repel any attack. We have food and water to endure a lengthy siege, and the will to last."
    Pianessa gazed brutally upon the big-bearded farmer.
    Frowning, Bertino held the gaze without blinking.
    Silence ...
    "Yes," the marquis muttered.
    Pianessa looked upon Descombie. "Which of you is in command? I would like for him to remain with me and discuss coordinated responses to this