Probably a long way, she decided nervously. She fingered her swollen lip.
"Are you well enough to walk yet?" he asked. "We ought to leave here before someone comes. I expect they're all out at Carnival, but—"
Oh! "Where are we?"
Again that appealing smile. "I haven't the faintest idea. It must have been safe at the time, or my demon wouldn't have brought us here, but we should leave as soon as possible. It won't defend us against social embarrassment."
"Mine didn't defend me against anything at all!" She scowled at her ring. The stone was only garnet, but Mother had always said the gold setting would be very valuable even without the demon immured in the jewel. It had been less than useless tonight.
Hamish frowned, took her hand, and peered at it closely. "It's very old, isn't it?" He did not release her hand.
"It belonged to my grandmother. Mother gave it to me on my—" what would he believe? " — eighteenth birthday."
"Older than that. The setting looks Carolingian."
"How do you know that if you're not a hexer?"
"Mm? Oh, I read a lot." He grinned briefly, then turned serious again, frighteningly serious. "Are you royal, my lady? Ordinary people don't need guarddemons and certainly can't afford them." His eyes were no longer sultry; they were rapiers.
She had no choice but to trust him. If he meant to take advantage of her, he would have done so before now. "My mother is the Countess of Ely, and no, we're not royal, or rich. Not poor, of course. My father died many years ago. Mother has strange fears. She travels a lot, and never stays in one place more than a few months. She imagines a lot of enemies, that's all. That's why I have the ring. I was always told it would protect me. It must be a fake!"
He lit up the room with his smile again. "Not necessarily. My guarddemon is conjured to move me out of danger, but perhaps yours works by bringing help."
Did he realize what a wonderfully romantic notion that was? "You were the answer to a maiden's prayer tonight, sir."
"Ah, maidens are always telling me that. Come along." He pulled on her hand to help her sit up. She smoothed her gown, which was utterly ruined. Oh, she must look a sight! But he smiled, and she smiled back. She wasn't just dreaming this.
"Madonna, I will escort you safely to your residence. I will also steal some shoes out of that closet for you, if there are any there to fit you — you may have heard how skilled we mercenaries are at looting and pillaging. Otherwise, I am afraid you will have to hop." He headed for the closet. "In which contrada do you live?"
"I don't know."
He stopped and looked around. "You cannot even venture a wild guess?"
She shook her head and felt a huge lump rise in her throat, as if she were about to burst into tears. "We just arrived in Siena last night. I don't know the name of the street, or even what the house looks like. I came out the back. Over a roof."
"That makes things a little difficult!"
He did not believe her, naturally. She herself could not believe that she had been so stupid. She did not approve of people being stupid, especially herself, because she normally wasn't, but tonight she seemed to be blundering into every pothole in sight. "I wanted to take a look at Carnival. I had my ring. I was only going to the corner, wanting to watch the revelers going by. But some young men pulled me into a dance. I can't speak Italian. By the time I escaped from them, I was in the square, and I didn't know which way I'd come."
He did not laugh at her tale of folly. "But, Lisa, the attack on you wasn't just a random assault. Those ruffians knew who you were — I heard them. One of them said something like, 'That's her!' In English."
She nodded. "Yes."
"So it must have been gramarye of some sort, either a summoning or an ambush. The one holding you was a hexer. He invoked that demon. And he had it on a very loose rein — just a couple of words and gestures. That is extremely dangerous! I think you should take your mother's fears more seriously."
"You're saying I've been a terrible fool."
"I'd say your mother was the fool, for not confiding in you. She probably thinks of you as still being a child."
She looked up quickly, then turned away, afraid she was blushing. He was not making that mistake.
"I am very grateful for your help. You'll take me somewhere safe until we can find Mother?"
"Of course. Go and see if there are any shoes you can wear."
If he believed her story, would he be giving her orders like that? Or were the orders a sign that he did believe her story and thought she was stupid? "Very well, my lord. I'll give you some lessons in looting and pillaging."
He grinned hugely, and that made her feel better.
The closet was almost as large as the bedchamber, and its racks and rods and shelves held an impressive collection of gowns and cloaks and accessories, clearly belonging to a large woman. Anyone so rich would not grudge help to a lady in distress. Lisa found a pair of stylish buskins that she could walk in and not walk out of, and added a warm, dark-colored cloak of soft wool that fitted very well and would be much more suitable than her own for the sort of midnight adventuring that must lie in store. She discarded the balzo and exchanged it for a dark floppy hat that concealed her hair. After what must have been the fastest lady's dressing in history, she returned to the bedchamber.
"How do I look?"
Hamish stared at her for a moment in wonder. Then he sighed. "Lovelier than Venus. Beauty like yours drives men out of their wits."
"Thank you, Sir Hamish!" She knew she was blushing. "Brave knight deserves fair lady."
"Demons! I shouldn't have said… Lisa, I am not a knight! I'm not even an honest soldier — I'm a spy."
Her smile died, cold on her lips. "A spy for whom?"
"Not Nevil, I swear. Florence. But the Sienese might even prefer the Fiend to a Florentine. I'm not a nobleman in disguise, if that's what's in your mind. I'm a spy, and if the Sienese catch me, they'll rack me on principle."
The ruffians had spoken English, and so did he, but she had no one else to trust. She held out a hand so he could tuck an arm under it.
"Then I won't let them catch you. You're quite tall enough already."
"I'd like to stay the way I am, I admit. Now, the first problem is to get safely out of here. We'll just walk downstairs as if we owned the place. If a servant sees us, I'll do the talking. If I speak to you, smile as if I'm discussing Carnival."
The candle she was holding trembled and wavered. "And if we meet the owners?"
He shrugged. "I'll think of something." He opened the door with a cheerful grin. "Hold on tight in case I disappear."
CHAPTER FOUR
Toby was out of his depth in recitals of music and poetry, but the jugglers and buffoons made him laugh. He saw many parts of the palace he had not visited before, gazing in wonder at great salons so decorated with frescoes that gods and heroes lurked on the edges of the crowd and cherubim flitted overhead. The air was heady with the scents of perfumed bodies, beeswax, and intrigue.
He knew many of the men already and was introduced to a hundred more, but the problem was never remembering a man's name, it was judging his importance, because the standard term of office in Florence was a mere two months, and titles tended to be meaningless anyway. Undoubtedly at least a quarter of the persons present were in the pay of other states and would be filing reports the following day, so he was much in demand as a potential source of interesting material.