Chapter 5
Capitolo Cinque
The carriage rattled over the large stone slabs of the ancient Roman road, moving briskly, sweeping past vineyards and olive groves.
Elderflower, hazelnut, and cypress trees dotted the grassy landscape, giving way to thick clusters of woodlands.
Thunder boomed overhead, a storm threatening to break over the verdant hills.
It matched Ravenna’s mood perfectly; swollen clouds carrying her tears, the clap of lightning like the sound of her inner protesting.
Ravenna wiped her nose with the hem of her gown, thankful there was no one to see her splotchy face and red-rimmed eyes.
Mercifully, the Luni famiglia had piled into their own transport, and it raced ahead of hers.
A headache bloomed at her temples from her crying, and she pressed her cheek to the cool windowpane.
Her breath came out in soft pants, fogging the glass.
The magic within her fed off her clamoring emotions, her heartache.
It sought release, but Ravenna breathed through the worst of it.
She would let herself wallow for another few minutes, and then she would make a plan.
Ravenna couldn’t believe this was happening to her.
The round walls of Volterra were her home, and she never ventured past the surrounding hills.
She was a creature of habit and routines, structure and rules, and deeply loyal to her family.
But she’d been plucked out of her life and thrust into a fast-moving carriage she had no control over.
For the hundredth time, she wondered why they had stolen her.
It must have been her use of the Nightflame.
She had given herself away, and now she was paying for it. Ravenna lifted her head, pressed a clammy hand to her other cheek. Nervous energy skittered across her skin. She inhaled deeply, fighting the rapid beat of her heart, urging it to slow down. She mustn’t give anything else away.
Especially not the magic she kept secret.
Ravenna gripped the upholstered velvet bench for dear life, her mind whirring.
She stared at the door and thought of escape.
If she leaped out of the carriage, would the driver notice?
Most likely. She could make a run for it, but the weather wasn’t cooperating.
The speed of the carriage posed a great risk; she might hurt herself when she landed, and then she’d really be stuck.
Florence was a day’s ride away from Volterra, about fourteen hours, maybe less, at the rate they were moving.
Either way, the horses couldn’t make the whole journey.
At some point, the driver would need to find a small village for supplies, to change the horses, and perhaps allow Ravenna to use the privy.
And unless the driver wanted to travel through the night, they’d have to stop at an inn.
Ravenna dried her eyes and straightened in her seat.
She would make her move then.
They arrived in Castelfiorentino at nightfall.
Ravenna peered out the window as the carriage stopped in front of an inn with a sloping tiled roof.
Flickering lanterns illuminated the intricately carved wooden door reinforced with iron bands and a sturdy latch.
Shutters flanked the small windows, closed for the night.
There were no other patrons in sight, only a couple of stray dogs sniffing along the cobblestone path.
A burly guard approached her door and opened the window, saying, “You’ll join the family for dinner inside.”
Ravenna indicated to the closed shutters. “The owners are asleep.”
“They are awake and already serving the Luni family.”
Naturally, she thought. “Why have they taken me?” she demanded.
The guard regarded her with a stony expression, unyielding and stern. “My orders are to bring you inside. Beyond that, I don’t have answers for you.” He opened the door and indicated for her to climb out.
This man would not be persuaded by a soft smile or moved by tears. But she wouldn’t come before the family without more information, whatever she could learn. Ravenna shifted tactics. “Will we be spending the night?”
“Stop stalling and get out of the carriage,” he barked.
Ravenna stiffened, but she stepped down, her attention moving swiftly to the other carriage.
Stable hands attended the horses while servants carted trunks up the front path.
Her pulse quickened. So they were spending the night.
Marvelous. Between then and the next morning, there would be ample opportunity to slip away. She would make sure of it.
But first—dinner with her kidnappers.
Ravenna gritted her teeth and followed the guard into the inn.
She was greeted by warm, earth-toned walls with geometric patterns inspired by Moorish design.
The furniture was a blend of low wooden tables and cushioned seating, the walls were covered by woven tapestries and on the floor, plush rugs stretched in every direction.
Bronze lamps with intricately patterned covers cast a warm, dappled light across the room.
It was all very cozy, and Ravenna felt a pang of homesickness.
A tall, middle-aged man in a long, loose-fitting tunic with a calm demeanor beckoned Ravenna forward to the front desk. His olive-toned skin and trimmed beard complemented his kind brown eyes. Those same eyes flicked to the two guards flanking her, and his lips pursed slightly.
“Buonasera,” he said. “I am Ibrahim. I understand you’re with the Luni party?”
Ravenna opened her mouth, but the two guards spoke for her.
“She is,” the first said.
“We were about to shut our doors for the night,” Ibrahim said.
“My wife and daughter are helping them settle into their accommodations upstairs. The kitchen is busy preparing a meal for you all, it should only be a quarter of an hour or so. You’ll have the dining room to yourselves.
All our other guests have retired for the evening.
” He cleared his throat pointedly and looked at Ravenna.
“Will you be needing separate accommodations?”
“She will,” said the other.
The innkeeper paused but kept his attention on Ravenna. “We have a room for you,” Ibrahim said. “My daughter will return shortly and show you to your room, and I’ll have your trunk brought up—”
“I have nothing,” Ravenna said, her eyes widening slightly.
Ibrahim paused, dark brows drawn.
She opened her mouth again, but one of the guards took hold of her arm and held on tightly.
His fingers dug into her in warning. Her gaze dropped to the sword strapped to his side.
He was a burly man, with a pronounced scar splitting his cheek.
If she made a scene, would they hurt the family who owned the inn?
“Signorina?” Ibrahim asked gently.
“You have a lovely establishment,” Ravenna said. “My family also has a locanda in Volterra, though not as grand as this.”
He beamed at her. “Grazie, we’ve been very fortunate.
We see many travelers thanks to the Via Francigena trade route.
” A young woman wearing a silk headscarf approached the front desk.
Gold earrings glittered in her ears, and a wide leather belt cinched her waist, accentuating the lush flow of her dress.
Ibrahim turned toward her with an expectant air.
“Has everyone settled in their rooms? Yes? Good. Amina, will you show our last guest to her room?”
“Follow me,” Amina said with a quick smile.
Ravenna followed Amina up the gracefully curved staircase, her hand gliding against the carved wooden banister. Both guards were at her heels, their heavy footsteps oppressive. The innkeeper’s daughter glanced back at them, curiosity glimmering in her dark eyes. Ravenna didn’t blame her.
How would she have handled such a situation?
Her parents would have fluttered around the kitchen nervously, bidding the cooks return to work.
Her twin brothers would have been tasked with hauling in the luggage, while their stable hand would have likely woken where he slept in the loft above the horse’s stalls.
It would have been up to Ravenna to check the latecomers in with a gracious smile. She had done it many times.
But now her parents would have to make do without her.
“Through here,” Amina said, using an iron key to unlock a room at the end of the corridor. “The rest of the party are in rooms next to yours.”
Ravenna didn’t think her mood could worsen, but somehow it did. She was surrounded by immortals on both sides.
“We’ll need two chairs, please,” the guard with a scar said gruffly, gesturing to either side of the doorway.
Amina’s dark brows rose, crescent moons framing her pretty face. “Certainly.”
Ravenna stared at the guard, anger licking up her spine. They intended to spend the entire night outside her bedroom door. That was one exit out of her reach.
Madonna santa.
“If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to ask,” Amina said with a quick glance at Ravenna.
It was only the length of a single breath, but Ravenna caught the hint of worry, concern, for her.
Then Amina gave another curious glance to the two guards before she nimbly skirted around them, her footsteps quiet against the rug-covered floor.
The guard gestured to the open door. “You may freshen up for dinner.”
Ravenna glowered at him before marching inside and firmly shutting the door behind her, only for him to open it a second later.
“This stays open,” he said in a tone brooking no argument.
Then he moved out of view, presumably to make himself available to receive the chairs.
She turned away from the door with a stifled sigh, her gaze immediately latching on to the window.
Her mind worked on a possible escape route as she crossed the room, making quick work of opening the wooden shutters.
Wind rustled through the trees, teasing her hair, and she could make out the sounds of a horse pulling a cart toward the stables.
It was too dark to see below clearly, but Ravenna could just make out the outline of a prickly hedge. Uncomfortable to land on, but bearable.
While everyone else slept for the night, she’d open the window, head to the stables … steal a horse?
Her stomach twisted—she’d never stolen anything before in her life. It didn’t sit well with her, but what else could she do? It was too far of a walk, not to mention potentially dangerous. The path wasn’t straightforward, she could lose her way or run into bandits.
“I wouldn’t, if I were you.”
Ravenna stiffened. She looked over her shoulder at the immortal blocking the only way out of the room.
Cavaliere Saturnino returned her stare dispassionately, his expression stony.
He’d taken off his armor, but he still looked imposing.
Formidable. A lock of his black hair fell at an angle across his pale brow.
“Wouldn’t what?” she asked.
“Jump.”
Ravenna turned away from the window, her pulse skipping.
She stayed where she was, close to the wall, conscious of the bed between them, the centerpiece of the spacious room.
Luxurious linens draped each end in rich, deep colors: burgundy, emerald, ochre.
A lightweight woolen blanket woven with geometric patterns sat folded at the foot.
Small wooden tables on opposite sides of the bed held brass oil lamps, their bases engraved with delicate swirls.
“I wasn’t planning on jumping,” Ravenna lied.
“Well…” He drew out the word slowly. “If you were, you should know that it would be me following in your pursuit.” His white teeth gleamed in the soft candlelight.
He took a step forward, and then another.
His frame seemed to take up the entire space.
She couldn’t run past him even if her shoes had wings like the ancient Roman god Mercury. “And I always find my mark.”
Ravenna lifted her chin. “Stop threatening me.”
“It wasn’t a threat, but a warning.”
“You’re trying to frighten me.”
“I’m trying to keep you from doing anything foolish.”
Ravenna folded her arms across her chest. “Well,” she said, mimicking his slow drawl, “if you hadn’t kidnapped me then I wouldn’t have to contemplate a dangerous trek through the night back to Volterra.”
“Kidnapping is a strong word.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What would you call it?”
“Think of it as an opportunity.”
“For what?” she demanded.
“A mutually beneficial opportunity,” he clarified.
“I still don’t—”
A sound of rustling clothing interrupted her.
Signora Luni walked into view, dropping a light hand on Saturnino’s sleeve.
If Ravenna hadn’t been looking at his face closely, she would have missed the slightest ripple of emotion changing his expression.
The line of his jaw tightened, as if he were gritting his teeth.
But the moment was gone when she next blinked, replaced by a bored look.
“Our dinner is ready,” Signora Luni said with a smile. She glanced at Ravenna, eyebrows rising expectantly. “I trust your accommodations are comfortable?”
She spoke pleasantly, as if she’d had no part in the kidnapping. The gall of the woman, Ravenna fumed. “I would be more comfortable in my own home.”
“Perhaps you’ll change your mind once the night is over,” Signora Luni said lightly. “You’ll escort her down, won’t you, my love?”
The knight’s eyes cut to hers. “Even if I have to drag her.”
Signora Luni laughed uneasily as she squeezed her son’s arm as she moved out of view. “I’m certain it won’t come to that.”
Cavaliere Saturnino held Ravenna enthralled in his cold, remote gaze. “Will it?”
She shook her head, her heart beating rabbit-fast. “It won’t.”
“Then come to me,” he said softly.
Ravenna locked her jaw but she approached the knight, her steps controlled and measured. She was proud her knees didn’t shake.
“Good choice,” he said.
Ravenna swept past him, her chin held high and spine straight. But she felt his gaze between her shoulder blades as he followed behind her, a wolf stalking his prey.
The reality of her situation sank into her bones: if she didn’t escape, there would be no more choices left for her to make.