Chapter 4 #2
And so the depravity and lust continued throughout the night, and for the next two nights.
There was nothing that Sebastiano Rovere proposed in the privacy of his bedchamber that Bianca did not comply with until she thought she would go mad.
But her mother was coming! She had sent back a verbal message with Antonio that she would come, and that was all that mattered to Bianca.
Her mother would know how to help her escape this hell on earth that she had been forced into.
And if she could not escape, Bianca planned on taking her own life, for she did not know how much longer she could keep up this charade with her husband and his slave girl.
Last night he had taken pleasure in watching the two women, instructing them to kiss, and suck, lick, and rub each other’s bodies.
And when he had sated himself he told them of a man who raised miniature donkeys that were trained to mount women and service them. He was thinking of buying one.
Nudara, of course, had clapped her hands at his suggestion, asking him if had seen the size of a little donkey cock, and curious if it was big.
Sebastiano Rovere had laughed knowingly, and assured her the donkey’s cock was big enough to satisfy even her greedy maw.
Then he made the slave girl don a false manhood made of leather, and watched while Nudara fucked Bianca with it.
Bianca disappointed her husband when she could not seem to gain any pleasure from it, but she quickly redeemed herself by saying that only his magnificent cock was capable of giving her pleasure.
He had then delivered what she claimed to desire, her apparently genuine cries delighting him.
Bianca shuddered with the memory of it. She bathed, and dressed, and had Agata dress her dark hair simply.
Then she sent her servingwoman to await her mother’s arrival.
Her husband had gone off to the courts this morning, preparing to argue an important case.
He was in an excellent mood, and fully prepared to win.
She would be free of his interference. Agata returned, bringing Orianna Pietro d’Angelo with her.
The two women fell into each other’s arms.
Orianna was shocked by her eldest daughter’s appearance. She was unnaturally pale. There were dark circles beneath her eyes. Her ebony hair, while beautifully dressed, looked faded, and she had lost weight. “What has happened to you, Bianca?” she cried.
At the sound of her mother’s familiar voice, Bianca burst into tears.
“Madre! Madre! You must take me from this house before he kills me with his excesses! I can bear no more! I have tried for my father’s sake, for my brother’s sake, but I will die if I cannot escape this man.
You must help me! You must!” And she pressed herself into her mother’s arms, continuing to weep.
Orianna turned to Agata. “What has happened to my daughter?” she asked the servingwoman.
“Mistress, I do not know,” Agata said. “She will not speak on it, but I believe she is being cruelly abused by her husband when in his bed. There is a sly Moorish slave girl in the house, and Antonio has told me he brings her into the marital bedchamber. And he never comes to my young mistress’s apartment. She is always sent for to go to him.”
“Bianca,” Orianna said gently, “you must tell me everything that has happened. I cannot help you if you do not. Do you understand me?” She tilted her daughter’s tearstained face up so their eyes might meet. “Everything.”
“I am so ashamed,” Bianca whispered. “I did not know that people could do such things to each other, Madre. He has not even allowed me a priest so I might make my confession and at least relieve myself of this guilt. Oh, Madre! I do not believe you have ever known of the things he has done to me. It began on our wedding night.” And then the younger woman explained to her mother in careful detail everything that had happened in the dark bedchamber of Sebastiano Rovere.
Both Orianna and Agata listened, each with a growing degree of horror as Bianca spoke.
The mother pressed her lips together to contain her cries at the evil suffered by her child.
The servingwoman wept silently, wishing Bianca had confided in her so she might have informed the Pietro d’Angelos of the wicked abuse being suffered by her young mistress.
After an hour had passed, Bianca finally stopped speaking.
“Fetch my daughter’s cloak,” Orianna said sharply.
Agata jumped up to quickly obey, bringing the required item and wrapping it about Bianca’s thin shoulders. Then she looked to Orianna. “Where are we going, mistress?” she asked the older woman.
“From this house,” Orianna said. “You will never return to that man, Bianca. I swear it! I shall not let him ever touch you again.”
“My father . . .” Bianca said softly.
“I am hiding you in the convent of Santa Maria del Fiore, just outside the city’s walls,” Orianna said.
“Your father shall not know where you are until I can make him see reason, my child. You will have sanctuary and the protection of the Mother Superior, who is my distant kinswoman. Come now!” She took Bianca’s arm.
“I am his wife,” Bianca said despairingly. “His possession. He can do what he wants with me, Madre. He has told me a thousand times since our wedding day. If he finds me, he will surely kill me.”
“He will not find you,” Orianna assured her child. “Now let us hurry. Agata, come, for you must be hidden too.”
The three women left Bianca’s apartment and hurried to escape the house.
Antonio was keeping the door that afternoon.
Seeing the trio, he opened the portal of the palazzo and then turned his head the other way.
The trio exited, but Orianna said to the servingman, “Leave this place with us. I will take you into my personal employ.”
“Grazie, gracious lady,” Antonio replied, closing the door behind them and following them out into the street. He helped the lady and his young mistress into the waiting Pietro d’Angelo litter. Then, walking beside Agata, the servants followed along.
The litter made its way to a busy market square, where it was set down.
“There are litters for hire here,” Orianna said softly to Agata. “Find a bearer called Ilario and tell him Signora Pietro d’Angelo is in need of his services.”
“At once, signora,” the servingwoman responded and hurried off. She returned a few minutes later with two litter bearers carrying a single chair litter.
The grizzled older man in front was smiling from ear to ear. “Signora!” he greeted Orianna. “It has been a long time. How may I serve you today?”
Orianna stepped from her family litter. “You may take me home,” she instructed him.
“Antonio, you will attend me, please. Agata, get in with your mistress.” Then she murmured lowly to her head litter bearer.
“Take my daughter and her servant to Santa Maria del Fiore. Tell them she is a kinswoman to the Reverend Mother Baptista, and seeks both shelter and sanctuary. Say I will come to speak with the Reverend Mother myself tomorrow.”
The Pietro d’Angelos’ head litter bearer nodded silently.
Orianna climbed into her hired transport.
With Antonio by its side, it was borne from the busy market piazza while her family’s vehicle took off in another direction, the four bearers moving quickly through the noisy, narrow streets towards one of the city’s gates.
Seeing the city for the first time, Bianca was fascinated in spite of herself.
The noise was incredible, the smells many and varied.
Some pleasant, and some not so. Vendors hawked their wares.
Children played in the puddles, and on the cobbles.
Dogs, some mongrels, some with expensive collars, roamed freely.
Her bearers never broke stride but moved swiftly along through one of the city’s gates.
Down the highway and around a curve, they then stopped before a walled enclosure.
The litter was set down, and the head litter bearer rapped on a small, almost invisible portal.
A tiny grille opened in the door. “Yes?” a voice inquired.
“I come from Signora Pietro d’Angelo, who is kin to the Reverend Mother Baptista. She wishes the lady I bring to you, and her servant, to have sanctuary. She will come herself tomorrow and speak with the Reverend Mother.”
“Wait!” the voice commanded.
Several long minutes passed, and then the small portal opened and a tall, austere nun stepped forth. She went to the litter, drew the curtains aside, and asked, “Who are you, my child?”
“I am Bianca Pietro d’Angelo, Reverend Mother,” Bianca replied.
“You are Orianna’s eldest daughter?”
“Yes, Reverend Mother.”
“The wife of Sebastiano Rovere?”
“Yes, Reverend Mother.”
“You wish sanctuary for yourself and your servingwoman?”
“Oh yes, please, Reverend Mother!” Bianca’s voice shook.
“Come in, then, my child, and your woman too,” the nun responded.
“Oh, thank you!” Bianca cried. “Thank you!”
Agata climbed from the litter and helped her mistress out, and together the three women entered through the gate into the convent proper.
“Tell your mistress,” Reverend Mother Baptista said to the head litter bearer, “that I shall very much look forward to her visit. And certainly you and your fellows know not to tell anyone where you have been.”
“We have served our master and mistress for over twenty years, Reverend Mother,” he told her. “We understand what is expected of us.”
“God and his blessed Mother be with you, then,” the nun said, blessing them.