and over, Dante, Dante. Rain struck my face, fell into my mouth, mingling with the tears that I knew fell freely. I dashed them out of my eyes, fearful that if I didn’t keep this person, this man, in my sights, he’d disappear. My Dante. I compelled my legs to work as he too began to run towards me, arms outstretched. But before I could call out, something slammed into my back.
I stumbled forward and stopped again. I felt hot, peculiar.
I tried to move, but my body refused to cooperate. It didn’t matter, because he came to me. After all this time, he came. Through the rain and darkness he found me. So tall, so strong, so beautiful. I saw his mouth open wide as he cried out a word I could not hear because of the thunder in my mind. The joy on his face, which echoed that in my soul, dissolved into something else. Everything slowed down. I saw Baroque draw a sword and begin to lumber down the dock. He ran past me shouting, but I couldn’t hear him either, I saw his mouth moving, snarling. I saw Dante’s eyes drop to my breasts. I saw a look of panic twist his beloved face. I followed the direction of his gaze.
Sticking out of my chest was a sword. It was covered in blood. My blood.
I started to fall forwards. He ran to catch me but it was too late.
‘Don’t touch me!’ I whispered before I toppled onto the dock and knew no more.
IGNORING THE HORSE THAT CANTERED into the clearing, Dante remained hunched over Tallow’s unconscious form. Even the sounds of the rider dismounting and the rough hand gripping his shoulder didn’t break his focus. ‘I can’t lose her again, Baroque. I won’t,’ he said as Baroque released his grip. The back of Dante’s hand brushed her cheek gently.
Dante had placed her on his cape. Without her mask, and with her eyes closed and hair all dishevelled, she could have been asleep. Only the blood that stained the front of her dress told a different story. Her skin has taken a bluish cast, ghastly, in the moonlight.
‘We won’t lose her, Dante. Stay strong, amico mio. Have faith,’ Baroque said and squatted beside him. ‘There was more than a mortal hand behind that sword, the intention. But if there is one thing I’ve learnt about Tallow, it’s that she’s stronger than she looks, you know.’
‘I did what you said.’ Dante faced him, desperation making his eyes glimmer. ‘I gave her that potion. Her breathing is slowing; but her heart … I can barely feel it.’ Dante stumbled over the words. He fought back tears.
‘Then you have done all you can for now.’ Baroque rose and left Dante alone for a moment. Walking back to where he’d left his horse, he quickly tied it to a tree next to Argento and began to loosen the large roll strapped behind the saddle. ‘Dante,’ he called over his shoulder, ‘I need your help.’
First pushing Tallow’s hair from her face, Dante reluctantly went to aid Baroque. Together they carried the roll and dropped it down next to Tallow.
‘What’s this?’ Dante asked.
Baroque didn’t answer. Instead, he slowly unrolled what was an ornate rug until its centre was exposed. A pale, dishevelled old man lay in the middle.
Dante leapt back in astonishment. ‘The Doge!’ he yelped. ‘That’s what you went back for, Baroque? Why? Is he dead?’ Dante approached cautiously and bent down, peering at his ruler curiously.
Baroque knelt on the carpet and gently pulled the old man’s robes around him – the robes he’d scooped from the floor and clumsily thrown over the Doge’s nightshirt before wrapping him in the rug and carrying him down the passage. He grimaced as he saw the bruises that marked the Doge’s face and hands, the dried blood from all the scrapes that tore his papery flesh and from which the thin rug had not protected him. It was these that gave him hope. Dead men did not bleed.
‘No, he’s no dead – not yet,’ said Baroque.
‘What do you mean?’
Before he could answer, the horses began to snort and pull at their tethers. The crash of undergrowth and the sound of harnesses jangling brought Dante and Baroque to their feet. Both drew their swords, Dante standing protectively over Tallow.
From the direction of the Limen cantered two riders. Dante gave a crow of joy and sheathed his sword.
They both waited beside Tallow and the Doge as first Katina