Page 57 of Thus with a Kiss I Die
Now he spoke to me. “Last night when you left, I faded.”
Turning back to Cal, we both realized he hadn’t heard a word Elder had spoken. He merely stared at the space Elder occupied because there I spoke. “He can’t move beyond these walls, and he’s not present unless I’m in the palace. Somehow I animate him.”
“What is the purpose of his appearance if he can’t help?” It was the cry of a grandson in distress.
“I don’t know. He doesn’t know. He said he wasn’t given a list of rules. He said that there wasn’t a ‘Welcome to the Other Realm Dinner Party and Ball.’ ”
Cal’s strong white teeth snapped together. “Is that supposed to be funny?”
“You’d have to ask him,” I snapped back, and moved to the next earthly crisis. “Cal, what about Papà? And you? And your men? What happened with thedisciplinati?”
“Your papà is unharmed, and a good man to have in a fight. He’s returned home to rest. The rest of us are fine. Unharmed.”
I snapped, “Except?”
Lysander gasped, I assume at my brusque manner, then hurriedly returned to tinkering with his lamp.
Elder said, “Testy, are we?”
Maybe I wasn’t diplomatic, but I recognized Cal’s tone from Papà’s use of it to Mamma, and it meant Verona had overnight become an unweeded garden gone to seed, given over to wicked thorny thistles that pierced the hand and heart and hurt all who dared fight them.
In other words,la merdahad been flung and the flagellants had flung it.
Cal’s expression mixed guilt, exasperation, and a touch of accusation. “Marcellus took a blow to the face; his eye is swollen shut. Holofernes received a knife in the back—not deep, but long—and Barnadine caught a blade under his chin.”
“As long as everything’sfine,if by ‘fine,’ you mean—not dead.”
“How I wish I could hold a blade!” Elder exclaimed.
I started toward the stairway, rolling up my sleeves. “Friar Laurence requires me for the stitching and the bandaging? How many lesser men of your guard were injured?”
My forthright action must have taken Cal by surprise, for it was a moment before he caught up with me. “Eight. Mostly bruises and broken bones. The flagellants were for the most part armed only with their whips, but a few held weapons, some crude, some so well-honed . . .” He shook his head. “I should never have let them in the city.”
I turned on the stair and faced him. “Was there a good choice, Cal?”
“No. To exclude them would have fomented unrest in the country. To allow them in took the viper to my bosom.”
“To be the prince is to carry a burden too heavy for most to bear, to make decisions when all decisions are terrible. It gives comfort to Verona’s citizens to know their podestà protects them. I admire you, my prince.” A truthful tribute and one I didn’t hesitate to give.
He stood above me, two steps up, and looked down at my face as if weighing my honesty. I must have landed on the side of sincerity, for he offered, “You may call me Cal.”
My mouth twitched. I curtsied. “You are very kind.”
Elder played dumb. “Weren’t you already calling him that?”
“You’re not helping,” I answered. Then to Cal, “Let’s go.”
He caught up with me at the bottom of the stairs. He was alone; Elder had vanished again, and I was glad for that. I didn’t need his point of view in this scene!
At once, I heard moans and saw the bodies stretched out on rugs and cushions and sitting on chairs. A weary-looking Friar Laurence grunted as he finished smearing ointment on Barnadine’s stitched chin. “Rosie, there you are,” he said in relief. “That boy won’t let me examine him, and he’s crying. Can you coax him to tell you what’s wrong?”
“Of course.” I started toward the young soldier sitting on the floor, knees bent, arms on top, sobbing into his sleeves.
Cal caught my arm and brought me to a halt. “This is my personal guard, the men who surround their leader, and they faced the worst of the fighting and took the worst of the injuries. The others sleep and eat. I don’t want you here.”
“Do you want Friar Laurence to work alone? For in the case of wounds, time is of the essence.”
“There are other apothecaries in the city.”
