Read The Wind Dancer/Storm Winds Page 15


  Sanchia swallowed to ease the queasiness in her stomach. She wheeled sharply away from the bodies. “This way.” She kept her eyes fastened straight ahead as she moved swiftly down the first passage and turned right.

  After several minutes of convoluted, twisting turns, Marco asked doubtfully, “Are you sure you didn’t take the wrong path, Sanchia? I think we may be going around in circles.”

  Sanchia shook her head. “Two more turns and we should reach the storehouse.” She had a sudden terrifying thought. “If the map is right.” What if Vittorio had drawn the map incorrectly? She took the last turn and felt weak with relief. A small, windowless wooden building lay before them. “There it is!”

  “We don’t have much time.” Lion moved quickly forward and inserted the key in the lock of the door. “It must have taken us at least ten minutes to make our way here.” The door swung open. “The lantern, Marco.”

  Sanchia waited outside as Marco and Lion disappeared within the storeroom. Now that she was alone she was beset with a fear so intense it almost suffocated her. The air seemed to vibrate with a sense of waiting menace.

  Marco emerged from the storehouse a few minutes later. “We found it!” His hazel eyes were shining in the lantern light. “It was there, Sanchia.”

  Lion followed him, carrying a medium-sized wooden chest. “Considering the trouble we’ve suffered I would have been a little irritated if it wasn’t,” he said dryly. “Get us out of here, Sanchia.”

  She nodded eagerly, her gaze on the mahogany chest. The Wind Dancer was in that plain wooden container. How strange that such a small object, an object she had never set eyes upon was important enough to Lion and his family to cause all this effort and fear. But soon the terror would be over, soon they would all be safe.

  She turned and began the complicated trek back to the south entrance. She had been foolish, she told herself, to let her own cowardly fear give way to an icy sense of doom. She took a right turn and then a left, her pace increasing. Everything was going well. Lion had his Wind Dancer. They would be back at the entrance before the watch passed.

  She turned right, left, right again. The high walls of greenery were pressing in on her in a smothering blur. She was almost running now, the pulse in her temple pounding wildly. “The entrance is right ahead,” she called back to Lion and Marco. “One more turn and we’ll—”

  Drawn swords glittered in the moonlight!

  She skidded to a halt, her eyes widening in horror. “No!” The narrow passage ahead was crowded with men in armor dressed in the same yellow-and-white livery Rodrigo and his comrades wore.

  Sanchia heard Lion’s low voice cursing behind her. “Damari.”

  “Greetings, Lion.” A man at the forefront of the soldiers took a step forward. “What a pleasure it is to see you at my palazzo under such intriguing circumstances. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to put down the Wind Dancer and surrender to me?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so.” Damari took another step forward and the light cast by the lantern in Marco’s raised hand fell full on him.

  Sanchia was taken aback by the looks of Damari. Barely of medium height with a barrel chest and overdeveloped torso, his muscular legs were round as tree trunks and far too short. He seemed almost grotesquely malproportioned to Sanchia. And when her gaze rose to his tea-colored eyes glittering in the lantern light, she realized his soul was as misshapen as his body. She saw only malevolence in him.

  “I hoped you wouldn’t give up too easily,” Damari said lightly. “Of course, that is why I permitted you to come into the maze and retrieve your property instead of cutting you down as you entered the gates. I knew you’d struggle harder once you had the Wind Dancer in your hands. It’s always more difficult to give up once victory is in our grasp.”

  Lion’s expression was impassive. “A trap. You knew we were coming.”

  Damari nodded. “What a wonderful surprise when I learned you were going to visit me. I hadn’t even realized you’d returned from France and discovered my acquisition of your statue until I received a message last night in Pisa that you’d made plans to get it back.”

  “Then you didn’t permit Sanchia to steal the key from Estaban?”

  “Oh no. Either your thief is exceptionally skilled or Rodrigo was extraordinarily thick-headed. I wasn’t happy with Rodrigo.” He shrugged. “And so I assigned him to guard duty tonight.”

  “In order that I would kill him?”

  “A fitting punishment for his stupidity, don’t you think?” His gaze shifted to Sanchia. “And this must be your clever little thief. Present me to her, Lion.”

  “Who sent the message?”

  “Guido Caprino.” The smile lingered on Damari’s lips. “He requested one thing only in return—that I use your little slave in the fashion which will give me the most pleasure.”

  Marco began to swear softly yet vehemently.

  “That distresses you, Marco?” Damari asked. “But then you always did have a soft heart where the ladies were concerned. Lion and I are of a tougher breed. We don’t balk at using any means at hand to get what we want.” His gaze remained on Sanchia. “Do we, Lion?”

  “But I protect what is my own.” Lion’s grip tightened on the wooden chest. “You should have known I’d never let you take the Wind Dancer.”

  “But I did take it, just as eventually I’ll take everything from you, Lion. After I’m done toying with you, I may even let you live so that you can appreciate your loss.”

  “And are you toying with me now?”

  “Of course.” Damari’s smile widened as his pale eyes returned to Lion. “Isn’t that clear? When are you going to begin wriggling on my hook, so that I can enjoy myself? Perhaps I should detail your predicament. There are ten men blocking this passage and another ten outside the entrance. I’ve deployed another ten outside the north entrance of the maze.” He lifted his gloved hand and slowly closed his fingers into a fist. “The trap is closed. Consequently, either you surrender or you run.”

  “Run where?” Lion asked warily. “You have a fancy to chase us through this damnable maze?”

  “How clever of you to understand. Naturally, it will be to no avail. I know this maze and, even with the map I assume you’ve managed to bribe from one of my men, you’ll soon become hopelessly lost. It’s impossible to read a map while you’re being pursued. How long do you think you’ll be able to avoid capture, Lion? Fifteen minutes? An hour? And every minute you’ll know we’re right behind you or waiting around the next hedge.”

  Lion studied Damari’s expression. “You’ve played this game before?”

  “Only on a few special occasions. I make it a practice not to indulge myself too frequently or the pleasure loses its bite. Though I admit the maze was the reason I purchased this particular palazzo. I immediately saw its splendid possibilities.” He drew his sword from its scabbard. “Now, which shall it be? Surrender or the maze? I do hope you choose the maze. I’ll even give you a few minutes’ head start as an incentive.”

  “Then I’d hate to disappoint you.” Lion shifted the chest under his right arm and his left hand closed on Sanchia’s elbow. “The maze.”

  He turned and ran down the passage from which they had come, dragging Sanchia behind him.

  Marco was right behind them as they made the first turn. “Cristo, Lion, what’s the use in letting him play with us when we—”

  Lion’s words cut through his question. “Damari’s right; a map is useless in a chase through this maze, but he doesn’t know about Sanchia’s gift.” He turned his head toward her. “Take us to the western perimeter and hurry!”

  Sanchia wasted no time in questioning him. She turned and started at a dead run through the maze.

  “Your head start is over.” Damari’s voice rang through the greenery. “Do you hear me, Lion? I’m coming after you!”

  Sanchia’s heart plunged and she began muttering frantic prayers beneath her breath. What if she became to
o frightened to remember the way? No, there was the long border hedge directly in front of her.

  “This is it.” She gasped. “But there’s no entrance here. Why do—”

  “The south and north entrances are blocked.” Lion set the chest down, drew his sword and begun to hack at the hedge. “But Damari didn’t say that the entire maze was surrounded. If we can hack our way through this hedge, we have a chance to slip away into the shrubbery that skirts the gate.”

  Marco drew his sword and joined Lion, slicing away at the branches. “The gate has to be guarded now.”

  “We’ll worry about that when we get out of the maze. Dio, it’s like cutting through stone.”

  Sanchia stood watching as the two men attempted to cleave their way through the living wall. It was taking so long and she could hear Damari’s taunting voice. He was closer.

  “Take the lantern and go to the end of the passage, Sanchia.” Lion didn’t look at her as he gave the hedge another mighty blow. “If you see or hear any sign of Damari run back to us and we’ll forget about getting through this wall and try the east hedge.”

  “Yes, my lord.” She snatched up the lantern and ran the several yards to the end of the passage, desperately glad to be able to do something to help.

  The whacking of the swords against the hedge branches was ominously loud to her ears. Surely Damari would be able to hear if he drew closer.

  And he was very close! Damari’s voice carried faintly to her from a distance that could not be farther than two passages over. “Are you lost yet, Lion? Are you beginning to choke on your fear?”

  Sanchia’s throat tightened in response to the taunt. She was the one choking with fear. She cast a frantic glance over her shoulder at Lion and Marco. She was too far away to determine how near they were to penetrating the hedge.

  “We’re almost through,” Lion called softly as if in answer to her unspoken question. “Damari?”

  She realized he hadn’t heard Damari’s voice over the sound of the chopping. “He’s drawing near.”

  Lion muttered a curse and assaulted the hedge with even more force.

  “Your precious Wind Dancer must be a burden to you as you run from me,” Damari called mockingly. “Soon you’ll be glad to abandon it just to gain a little more strength for the chase.”

  He couldn’t be more than one hedge away, Sancha decided. She would have to warn Lion and Marco.

  But they were almost through the hedge and, if they abandoned the attempt, who was to say Damari would not discover the mutilated border and realize they would now be trying the same ploy on the opposite side of the maze. There had to be some other way.

  If she could draw Damari and his men away through the maze and then double back … She closed her eyes and tried to visualize the passages leading away from the western border. Two right turns would put her on the same path they had traveled previously to reach the storehouse. Then she could circle the small building and come straight down the western border passage and rejoin Lion and Marco. She could give Damari only a glimpse of her skirt going around the corner, or a gleam of the lantern disappearing down the passage and he would think all three of them were still together.

  She could hear the clank of armor in the passage diagonally across from the one in which she was standing. If she was going to do it, it must be done now. Her grasp tightened on the handle of the lantern and she drew a shaky breath. An instant later she was flying across the path intersecting the passage Damari’s men were traveling.

  She heard a shout as one of the guards caught sight of her and then Damari’s low, pleased laugh.

  The jagged opening in the hedge was scarcely three feet long and two feet wide, but it would have to suffice.

  Lion sheathed his sword, picked up the chest containing the Wind Dancer and pushed it through the opening before calling softly over his shoulder, “Sanchia!” He started to crawl through the hedge as he said to Marco, “Watch over Sanchia. I’ll go through first and make sure the way is clear and get rid of any guards at the gate.” He was already halfway through as he added, “be quick!”

  He heard Marco’s assent as he wriggled the last two feet, sharp broken twigs and thorny leaves tearing at his jerkin and flesh like daggers. Then he was through the hedge and on his feet. He paused, swiftly looking over the area. They were in luck. As he had hoped, Damari had concentrated his forces at the two entrances and, though he could hear the sound of voices issuing from the far side of the maze, this side of the labyrinth was deserted. He picked up the Wind Dancer’s box and moved quickly into the cover of the bushes bordering the fence, then ran at full speed toward the gate. He slowed as he neared the end of the shrubbery, moving cautiously forward. If the gate had been refortified, then there should be signs of the guards soon.

  “Do remind me to teach you the rudiments of stalking through a grove without sounding like a pregnant ass.” Lorenzo emerged from the bushes beside Lion.

  “The guards?” Lion whispered.

  “Dead. Behind me in the bushes. I thought there might be something amiss when three of Damari’s men appeared and started to search the woods. After I got rid of them I decided to come and see if I could be of assistance. Where are the others?”

  “Following. I think I hear them now.” Lion looked over his shoulder.

  Lorenzo grimaced. “How could you not? They’re making even more noise than you did. Still, I think we’ll make sure it’s not one of Damari’s guards.” He receded into the bushes.

  Seconds later Marco pushed back the screen of branches and bolted into sight. He pulled up at the sight of Lion. “Dio, Lion, she wasn’t there.” He panted. “She was gone. I tried to—”

  “What do you mean? Sanchia was only a few yards away from us.” His hand closed on Marco’s arm with bone crushing force. “What the hell do you mean?”

  “They’ve got her.”

  “You don’t know that.” Lion whirled and started back toward the maze. “You left her, God damn you.”

  Lorenzo stepped in front of Lion. “Listen to him, Lion.”

  “He left her in that maze alone.” Lion’s voice was trembling with rage. “You whoreson coward, why didn’t you look for her?”

  “She screamed,” Marco said simply. “I was going to try to search for her when I heard her scream. Damari has her, Lion. Should I have stayed and let Damari capture me too? It would have been of no help to her to have me in the same cage.”

  “And you won’t help Sanchia if you let Damari get his hands on you, Lion,” Lorenzo said. “You can’t do anything at this moment to free her.”

  Lion glared at him, his eyes wild in his white face. “I promised nothing would happen to her. You’re telling me to abandon her?”

  “I’m telling you that you’ll have to wait until later to help her,” Lorenzo said. “Think, Lion. You’re not reasoning clearly.”

  He wasn’t reasoning at all, he was only feeling. She screamed. “I promised her.”

  “Then keep your promise,” Lorenzo said. “But you won’t keep it by letting Damari toss you into his dungeon.”

  Lion knew he was right. He couldn’t help Sanchia, and he was endangering Marco and Lorenzo by lingering. But, Jesus, she needed him and he couldn’t help her. The guilt was his, not Marco’s.

  “Damari won’t kill her at once. We both know that’s not his way,” Lorenzo said. “We have time. You can ride to Mandara and get more men.”

  No, Lion thought in rage, Damari wouldn’t deprive himself by killing her immediately. He would want to go slowly with her, very slowly, and wrench every vile pleasure for himself that he could from Sanchia’s torture. Frustration—acid hot, bile bitter—tore through Lion. He whirled and strode toward the gates. “Mandara’s too far away. We’ll ride for Pisa. Let’s go.”

  Sanchia screamed.

  Damari’s hand cracked against Sanchia’s cheek with such force that she fell to the ground.

  “You mustn’t scream again. Were you trying to warn your master?
” Damari smiled down at her in the moonlight. “But that’s not how the game is played. Now, tell me where he is.”

  “I don’t know.” Sanchia struggled to raise her head. “We became separated.”

  “I don’t think so,” Damari said slowly. “Now that I think back on it, you were a little too slow in getting away from us. We caught far too many glimpses of you before I managed to intercept you. You were leading us away from him, weren’t you?” His pitted cheeks creased as his smile widened. “Such inspiring loyalty. Did he tell you to distract us? How unkind of him when he must have known we’d catch you eventually.”

  Sanchia shook her head, trying to clear it of fear as well as the ringing pain of Damari’s blow. “No, we were separated,” she repeated hoarsely.

  He bent down and effortlessly lifted her to her feet. “You mustn’t lie to me.” His voice was seductively gentle. “I’ll find them anyway, you know. It’s amazing that I haven’t located them already. It’s never taken me this long before.” His smiled faded. “But fortune has always been on the side of that bastard. Tell me where you left him.”

  “I don’t know. We were separated and I became lost—”

  Agony rocked her when Damari struck her other cheek.

  “Tell me.” His voice was even more gentle, almost tender. “Was he going toward the north entrance?”

  The maze was whirling, blurring around Sanchia. “I don’t know.”

  He struck her again.

  She swayed. “We became separated and I lost my way. I don’t know where—”

  Pain exploded again and she hurtled down into a welcome darkness.

  “Come now, wake up. I’m becoming very impatient. You’ve been unconscious the better part of the night.”

  Sanchia slowly opened her eyes to see Damari gazing down at her.

  “Very good. I was afraid I had done you some grievous physical damage.” He waved a hand. “No matter. I had to send for Fra Luis anyway and would not have been able to start.”

  “Start?” Sanchia whispered. She tried to sit up before realizing with a surge of panic that she couldn’t move. She was no longer in the maze but strapped at knees, waist, and shoulders to a hard surface. She glanced wildly around her but could see only the wooden table to which she was bound. The aureole of light cast by a torch in Damari’s outstretched hand barely illuminated his face. “Where—”