Race of Scorpions Read Online Free PDF Page A

me.’
    The girl did what she was told and, coming back, stationed herself at the window, her eyes on the barn, her hand tight on the shutter. Even in anguish, she kept her courtesan’s grace. The Queen wondered whether, impelled by true love, she had offered to ride with Ansaldo. If so, he had not agreed. The Queen understood the advantages of what Ansaldo was doing, but it seemed very likely that she was going to lose him, and his men, and the boxes, and get herself taken for ransom. This was going to cost money. Holy Bones of God, her uncle the Duke would be furious. She promised herself, blackly, to tell the lord Sante precisely what she thought of his absent troop of escorting cavalry. The Queen rose, and walked through to the front room.
    There was daylight here, for the windows were torn and the shutters broken and hanging. There were also two or three fewer than there had been; and in a corner a man lay on a cloak, groaning. They were apportioning the last of the arrows and passing orders, low-voiced. She didn’t interrupt them. The archers were in theroom above: she could hear their footsteps. Through the window, she saw the bodies of men lying now in the yard, and beyond the gates a cluster of snow-coated helms, white as pebbles. As she watched, they moved backwards, and the noise of their voices increased. Then they began rushing forward.
    Before the ram struck the gate, Primaflora called. ‘Madama! The wagons are leaving!’
    The ram crashed into the gate. Pardo smiled, and gave her a salute with his sword. He said, ‘Courage!’ and opened the door, his men round about him. The ram withdrew. A flight of arrows from over her head arched down over the wall and fell on the shields of the assailants. The ram faltered, then its bearers closed up again. Pardo dashed into the yard. Ahead, a bugle blew somewhere. Behind, a whistle shrilled. The Queen found her arm grasped by Primaflora. The girl said, ‘They’ve seen the wagons. They left a watcher. They’ll follow them.’
    ‘Wait!’ said the Queen. The trumpet flourish sounded again. Outside the gate, the ram’s movement had stopped. The timber fell. The men who had carried it were running for horses. Swords flashed and men shouted commands. A banner appeared through the snow. She had seen its device in Porretta. The banner of Bentivoglio. There were also a number of fair-haired youths in green silk, with quivers of Libyan bearskin. She had seen these before, too. The Queen turned to the woman Primaflora and said, ‘We are saved!’
    And Primaflora said to her fiercely, ‘But Ansaldo is not! Or the boxes! They are following him!’
    Acute annoyance crossed the Queen’s face. ‘Then we must save them!’ she said. ‘Tell the Bentivoglio! The Queen’s favour to all who assist her!’
    She watched the girl run, and wondered what quality of men Sante of Bologna employed, and whether they were sober. She had no great hopes. She had long ago concluded that the world would be a more efficient place if managed by women.

Chapter 2
    I T WAS QUITE a while since Nicholas had fought anybody. Leaving the inn, there hadn’t been time for full armour, but he was satisfied with the weight of the jack on his shoulders, and an ordinary steel helmet without face-guards, and his Milanese shield and an extremely good sword, in a plain scabbard. His horse had no special protection, and neither had that of Thomas; but for a skirmish, they were dressed well enough. The Bentivoglio troop, encased in steel with vizors and plumes, looked fit to roll back Ghengis Khan, if you didn’t know they were pickled in liquor.
    They had not far to go. The royal train had been ambushed near the river; had fought off the attack and had taken refuge, as the man had said, in a farmhouse. From the tavern-keeper they knew the farmer was there, and his servants, but his wife and eight children, thank God, had gone to Bologna. ‘They’ll drive the wagons into the barn,’ the man had said.