The Angel of Soriano: A Renaissance Romance by Stella Marie Alden Read Free Book Online Page A

hose!
    A pike holding a banner provided the perfect place to tie one end while the other leg dangled down. This time her hands burned as she slid without knots for toe holds. The ground hit hard and fast, she almost screamed out, and tried to put some weight on her ankle but was rewarded with excruciating pain.
    Ouch. Ouch.
    No time. Grabbing her meager belongings, she slipped on her boots and tied them tight. Then she half-limped, half-trotted, down the road. After several miles, the sharp pain dulled to a throbbing numbness.
    When horse’s hooves barreled down the road behind her, she stifled a squeak and jumped to the side of the road, clenching her knife. It’d be useless against the huge knights but she’d fight to the death. Better that, than the inquisitor’s torture.
    They slowed their horses to a trot and stared down at her. The drumming in her chest was so loud, she was certain they’d hear. As best she could, she imagined herself as she was disguised, a teenage boy. Then with a face as sullen as any young man she’d ever met, she glared back.
    Two of the mounted men grunted and rode forward, but one stayed and regarded her from head to toe.
    Her knees shook but she continued to stare up with insolence. Then without a word, Pierpaolo’s warrior clucked his tongue, dug in his heels, and his horse trotted down the road.
    Stunned at her audacity or plain dumb luck, she limped after them.
    Around mid-morning, she sat down on a large flat rock, her ankle no longer able to carry her weight. She ate her stale bread and prayed that a kind soul might come along the road. After all, she figured God owed her a favor.
    When a donkey cart rolled along, she grabbed some clover and hopped to the middle of the road. “Buongiorno, kind sir.”
    A middle-aged farmer regarded her bruises with pursed lips and a deep frown. Prepared, she fed flowers to the beast best known for its stubbornness. It flicked its ears, reached its neck down and nibbled. She tossed the rest to the road, hoping the beast would stay.
    The man flicked the reins and clicked through his teeth but the donkey brayed with ears back. It hadn’t yet finished the gift she’d offered.
    The man’s black brows furrowed under a hat that resembled an old flour bag. “What do you want? Be off. I’ve no coin for you, boy.”
    “Please sir...” She needed a ride so badly, she’d beg if needed.
    “Who do you belong to?” His shirt was gray with age and he wore no hose. Leather shoes had seen better days.
    “...Uncle Pino.” Damnation . She bit down on her tongue. No serf would call a noble by those intimate terms.
    The man’s demeanor changed all at once and he smiled. “Uncle Pino? Is that what you call your master?”
    She nodded, hoping she’d not given herself away.
    “Get on, then. I’ll take you home.” His hand outstretched, she grabbed it and hopped onto the rough plank of the cart. All the while she sang praises to heaven for the ride. Perhaps God was watching, after all.
    “Did someone beat you?” Peering closely at her face, he frowned.
    “No sir. I slipped and fell.” She lifted her hand to her swollen nose and inhaled sharply at the pain.
    He tsk-tsked. “I don’t believe that, not for a moment, but I need some herbs for my wife. Have you been in his services long? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you there before.”
    She tried to think of a reasonable response as the cart bounced over the rough road. Lying was a lot harder than she’d ever imagined. “Not long at all. I’m his newest apprentice.”
    “Pino will no doubt be happy to see you. Did you try to escape him? Is that what this is all about?”
    “Escape from Signore Aggi? No sir. Never. He’s a very kind man. He asked me to find news on Giuseppe Nardini, the doctor and his dear friend. I did but I’m afraid I drank too much and fell in with bad company.”
    The man nodded, clucked his tongue, and pointed his finger at her. “That explains the beating. Don’t