can return to Serenissima – ‘her eyes flashed at Santo ‘– that will be our mission. This man found Tallow once. He can do so again. More than ever, we need ears and eyes in the city, ones that will not turn an Estrattore over to the Cardinale or the Doge.’
‘But he’s a spy! How many times do we need to say it? He works for soldi, not out of allegiance.’ Santo kicked a stone in frustration.
‘Which means he works for whoever pays the most. Am I not right?’
A smile pulled Baroque’s lips. ‘Sì.’
‘And, if we paid you enough, would you work for us?’
‘You have my word. On my honour,’ he said, placing a hand over his heart.
Santo guffawed. ‘Honour? What would you know about honour?’
‘About as much as you,’ snapped Baroque, finally hauling himself to his feet and making an effort to stand straight. He pulled what remained of his clothes around his body. ‘You snatch me from the streets of the Chandlers Quartiere and drag me over here to the mainland and start beating me, making wild accusations, crazy assumptions. Where’s the honour in that? You attack me, and why? Because I am following a little boy.’
The Bond Riders glanced at each other. Katina’s eyebrows shot up. ‘A boy? You know he’s a great deal more than that.’
‘So what if I do? That doesn’t prove I’m working for anyone other than myself.’ He looked around at their sceptical faces. ‘Senta, listen: I swear, I am working for myself.’
He looked at each of the Bond Riders in turn. ‘I promise I will not reveal any of this. Just let me go, please. I will look for this boy for you. I will find him and, when I do, I will tell you. No-one else but you.’ Ignoring the others, he stared long and hard into Katina’s eyes.
‘Upon what do you swear?’ she asked.
Baroque’s breath caught. ‘On my dead brother’s soul,’ he whispered.
In the dimming light and steady rain, Katina could not see the spy’s features clearly. Her eyes flickered over the other Bond Riders. They weren’t happy with what she was doing – that was clear in their faces. Well, Katina didn’t trust him either, but killing him served no purpose except to sate some sick blood-lust. The gods knew, enough had been spilled. She resisted pulling her shirt away from her body and ripping off her gloves.
In that instant, she made up her mind. She would bear the consequences of this decision. Anyhow, if the Elders didn’t like what she’d done, she could always return and finish off Baroque Scarpoli. It was her other choice she was more worried about.
‘Very well,’ she said to the spy, ‘consider yourself hired. You now work for us.’ Debora and Alessandro glanced at each other, faces drawn in displeasure. Stefano and Santo began to laugh.
‘You stupid cavola,’ said Santo in disgust.
Stefano folded his arms across his chest and regarded Katina carefully, taking note of her appearance. ‘Where were you? You never did answer me. How come you took so long to get here? And why do you have blood all over you?’
Debora stared at her. ‘It’s not yours, is it?’
‘No.’ She hesitated and then changed her mind. ‘All right. If you must know, it’s Dante’s. I went back –’
‘What?’ The word slipped out of everyone’s mouths. Alessandro slapped his thigh in frustration. Debora made a noise of exasperation and turned away. Santo and Stefano hovered between leering at the discord between the partners and fury.
‘To make sure he was dead.’ Katina raised her voice. ‘I wanted to …’ She searched for an explanation, to tell them what had compelled her to return. ‘To say sorry.’
Stefano’s frown deepened. ‘You’re not serious.’
‘Sì, she is,’ Santo mocked. ‘Our leader, the apologist.’ He wound his horse’s reins around his wrist and leapt into the saddle. ‘What are we waiting for?’ He looked down at the group. ‘I’m not going to argue over this. Not anymore. She can bear the consequences.’ He nodded towards Stefano. ‘Let’s get out of here before she makes us surrender ourselves to the Signori di Notte or the Cardinale.’
Stefano didn’t move. ‘You’re not telling us everything, are you?’
Katina remained silent.
‘You’ve become unpredictable, Katina, and that’s not good in a Bond Rider.’
When she didn’t respond, he clicked in exasperation and, with practised ease, mounted his stallion. ‘Where’s your horse?’
‘Birrichino? He’s back at the pledge stone. Why?’ Katina wrapped her arms around her body.