Tributary (River of Time 3.2 Novella) by Lisa T. Bergren Read Free Book Online

arm.
    Alessandra considered that. Both men with the same tattoo, in the same place. She remembered then. It was the mark of the brotherhood. In Firenze, after the battle, she and her father had seen the mark on flags, being burned in the city piazzas. Had they all taken them as boys? Did Lord Greco have one too?
    With a shout, Sir Luca came charging after the tall, dark-haired knight.
    Lord Greco turned just in time to block Luca’s strike, and lifted a hand to catch Marcello’s wrist as he brought his own sword down. He dropped his weapon and tried to punch Marcello, but this time, Marcello blocked it. Luca brought the tip of his sword to the back of Rodolfo’s neck. “You’re dead, brother,” Luca panted, wiping the sweat from his upper lip.
    Slowly, Rodolfo lifted his hands. “Mercy,” he said.
    “Let’s go again,” Lord Forelli said, turning to take up his ready position, “except this time, with you both against me.”
    “Come,” Lady Gabriella said, urging them forward again. “I really cannot stomach much of that. It’s too close to how it really is on the battlefield.”
    Alessandra glanced over at her. The lady did appear a bit peaked. Surely she did not truly worry for her husband’s safety? He appeared to be one of the finest knights possible, with others in his command that were nearly as good. And wasn’t she one of the She-Wolves of Siena, capable of taking ten men on at a time?
    “Alessandra, are you still feeling well?” Lady Evangelia said. “Or shall we walk you to your quarters?”
    “Nay. Please. Let us resume our stroll. It feels good to be outside again.”
    “‘Tis a most beautiful day,” Gabriella said. “I love it when spring begins to give way to summer.”
    “As do I,” Alessandra allowed.
    “Tell us, Alessandra,” Evangelia said, “Where did you get such a pretty name? It is uncommon, in Toscana, is it not?”
    Behind them, more of the sparring men were calling mercy, one by one. The loser sat down on the ground, the victor above him. Apparently until Sir Luca called for another round. Only three sets of men remained fighting, the rest watching their lords on the front platform.
    “My grandfather once read of a woman named Alessandra in a book.”
    “Your grandfather is a learned man?” Gabriella asked. She caught herself, looking contrite. “Forgive me. It is rather uncommon…I thought…Do you not live on a farm?”
    “Indeed. My grandfather was a merchant, but never quite successful at it, and eight of his ten sons are farmers. My papa knows how to read and write, but he says it is not a woman’s place to know such things.”
    “Oh, that’s a shame,” Evangelia said sorrowfully. “There is much to discover in the pages of a good book.”
    “I imagine so…” She paused, aware that she’d said too much. What was she doing, allowing these women into her head? Her heart? They were the enemy!
    “Oh, we could teach you!” Evangelia said. “Might we, Gabi?”
    “We hardly have time, before she departs. But we could begin, yes. Remind me, Lia. When the book merchant travels through next, or we get to Siena, I need to buy some books. We are in sore need of something new.”
    Alessandra looked from one to the other, considering the wealth required to purchase books. “You both read?”
    “We do,” Gabriella said.
    She supposed that she shouldn’t be surprised by the revelation, but in her village, she’d never known another woman who knew how to read and write. Mayhap it was part of the privileges of the noble class, to school their daughters as well as their sons. Or simply part of the mystique of the Ladies Betarrini. The She-Wolves of Siena.
    Although, so far, she’d seen nothing in them that smelled of female knighthood. Only genteel femininity. Not that they didn’t have the stature of warrior queens. They were certainly both tall enough. Evangelia was a good four inches taller than her, and Gabriella two inches beyond her sister. She felt like