"I'll walk with you to the lodge," he said. "There's a horse, and a guide to take you back."
She followed him up the wide, sloped passage. At the outer door he opened the wicket and doused the candle. They both ducked through the small door.
A half-moon was rising, shedding light on the empty monastery. Buildings rose about them in black and gray bulks. She pulled her hood over her head and lifted her skirt as he led her across a grassy plot. Her footsteps echoed softly as they passed onto the paved cloister.
A half-year past she would have been terrified out of her mind to walk here in the silence and emptiness. But Allegreto was with her, and not even the ghosts of dead men could frighten her. An old monastery on a summer night, only abandoned because the monks had preferred some better place, held nothing so fearsome as he was.
He walked ahead of her, noiseless, turning through another passage where the moonlight shone in a pale arch at the other end. They followed the overgrown road to the gatehouse, and Allegreto gave her his hand to help her over the slanted timbers of the half-fallen door.
He let go of her instantly. But he stopped, facing Cara in the starlight. "Is it true—or did you say it for my father?"
She couldn't look into his face. Since they had left Bowland, she in Princess Melanthe's household and he in Gian's, there had been nothing but the briefest dealings between them, messages passed for her mistress and no more. She was safe with him, she knew; she did not even fear ghosts with him beside her, but Guy had been given a place with the princess as a yeoman of horse. He was well within Allegreto's reach.
"No," she lied. "No, I just said it, so that—" She stopped.
"So that my father would not force you." Mortification hovered in his voice. "I wouldn't have—I didn't, did I? I could have said yes to him."
"Let us not speak of this." She started past, suddenly fearing him as she had not before, fearing that they were alone here in the empty dark.
"Are you betrothed to him?"
"No." She said it too quickly, too breathlessly. That was to protect Guy, but she had no lie to protect herself if Allegreto chose to constrain her by strength.
"Do you think I'll kill him?" he said. "I won't kill him."
She stopped and looked back across a distance of a yard. He propped his foot on the warped and canted door, the moonlight on his shoulders. "I only wondered if you would go home with us."
"Of course. My sister."
In a silken tone he asked, "Will Guy save and keep your sister?"
"You sound like your father."
"How not? I am his son. And Navona alone can steal your sister safe from the Riata."
"What does that mean? Will you make me choose between Guy and my sister?"
He lifted his head. "Then you are betrothed."
"You swore Navona would keep my sister safe."
"You are betrothed. You are. You are. Monteverde bitch." It was not an execration; it was like an endearment with him. He swung away and walked on, passing her, a moonlit shadow.
Cara went behind him, keeping distance. The faint path led across a water meadow and up onto higher ground, where she could look back and see the sheen of the river beyond the dark priory. Night dew made her shiver.
"So—will your Englishman remain with the princess, that you may go home with us?" Allegreto asked.
She didn't answer, but walked on behind him. He hiked himself over a stile and waited on the other side until she climbed it.
"You should see that he asks her for a place soon." Allegreto wove around a black patch of bushes. "You heard her say tomorrow she leaves—it won't be that swift, but as soon as she can have my father upon a ship without his suspicion, she will. We can't hold the green man long."
"Who is to set him free?" Cara had a sudden ghastly thought. "Mary, what if some mistake is made, and he's left down there after we're gone?"
Allegreto turned to face her, so suddenly that she almost fell over her skirt. "I would not let that happen!" he said fiercely. "And if you care so much, then stay here with your precious Guy and see to it yourself!" He snorted. "But I wouldn't put it past the two of you to drop the key down some gong-pit, so I guess I'd better do the thing."
He pivoted and strode on along the path, ducking a branch.
"You'll stay here?" she asked, trailing him.
"I'm to miss the departure and catch up in Calais. I think I'll let my father give me a good whore," he said bitterly, "and have her teach me about pleasure until I can't crawl out of the bed to travel." He took Cara's arm and propelled her in front of him. "There's the lodge. Her father had all this enclosed for a hunting chase, and there's none but a parker who likes good Bordeaux. The princess gifted him with a tun of it, so you need not expect he'll ask questions." He pushed Cara ahead. "The guide will see you back to her. Farewell."
He was walking away before she realized the finality of his tone. She turned and gazed after him.
"Farewell, Allegreto," she called softly.
He did not pause. He vanished in the dark.
"I know you can hear me."
It was Allegreto's voice again. Ruck had all of his body now. His stomach revolted, and he shook in every limb. It was a Purgatory he had never conceived, but no less appalling for that. He thirsted. He could not get his breath, and these insistent demons plagued him. He swallowed, trying to lift his hands, but one was weighted down with iron and the other would not do as he expected, moving aimlessly at the end of his arm.
"Open your eyes, green man, if you can hear me," the Allegreto-demon said.
He remembered that he had a name. "Ruadrik," he muttered. He stared bleakly at Allegreto, trying to see the shade of a monstrosity behind his comely face.
The demon smiled a wicked smile. "Ruadrik, then, if you'll have it so. Listen to me, Ruadrik. Try to remember this. You have food and drink here. There's a pail, if you need it. I'll return in the morning. Remember. Don't lose your head. Do you hear me?"
Ruck tried to lift his hand, to catch and strangle him, but he could not.
"Wink your eyes if you hear me," the fiend ordered. Ruck closed his eyes. When he had eyes to open again, the demon was gone.
"He was waking, my lady," Cara said very softly.
Melanthe laid her forehead down on the pillow. She had been waiting at the window, waiting and waiting. She had not thought Cara would ever come.
It might have killed him, the poison they had used, a grain too much, a drop of wine too little—but Gian's would have done it with mortal certainty.
"He spoke, but made no sense, my lady," Cara said. "Allegreto sent word to you that he's weak, but will be well by morning."
Melanthe lifted her head. The night air flowed in the open window. She put her hands on her cheeks to cool them.
"My lady—" Cara said. "I wish to tell you—when I spoke—when I said I was betrothed. I had no right to make a contract without your leave. Forgive me!"
Her words seemed distant to Melanthe. She flicked her hand in dismissal. "Later. I cannot think of that now."
"My lady. Please! I have no wish to marry Allegreto."
Melanthe made an effort to turn her mind to Cara's distress. "After all he's done for you? Poor Allegreto. You do have your claws in his heart."
"I never meant to do so, my lady! He frightens me. And—I fear for Guy."
"Such a tragic face. Guy? That Englishman from Torbec, I suppose. He's beneath you. He hasn't a florin to his name. Silly girl, his lord lives in a pigsty. You may believe me, for I saw it."
"My lady—I love him."
Melanthe gave one short laugh. "Truly, this is what comes of letting foolish female creatures sit at windows and look out upon the street, is it not? We dream stupid dreams, and fall in love with any unsuitable man who walks past."