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The swordsman and the Orfano flashed looks over their shoulders, wariness in every step. Virmyre rattled off an articulate series of complaints about the town, the wine, the cittadini , the economy and the weather.
    ‘You’ve never really told me what’s wrong with your arms,’ said Massimo as they approached the Contadino gatehouse. ‘Even after all this time,’ he pressed when Dino made no effort to provide an explanation.
    ‘Surely you’ve heard the rumours,’ said Dino, eyes fixed on the cobbles at his feet.
    ‘Something about spikes or stings?’
    Massimo missed the warning glance Virmyre spared him.
    ‘Tines, we call them tines.’ Dino was stifling hot, and it had very little to do with the midday sun.
    ‘We don’t have to speak of them if you—’
    ‘It’s fine. I just … Golia had them too.’
    They lapsed into silence. Dino could almost sense Massimo searching for something to say, anything to provide a change of subject.
    ‘It seems my simple need for wine and sunshine has drawn attention.’ The swordsman jutted his chin toward the gatehouse, where Lady Stephania Prospero waited with her retainers. Dino had seen the way men at court regarded her. Olive-skinned, she possessed an hourglass figure that set pulses racing. Never without a fan, her dark hair often piled atop her head, spilling ringlets framed her eyes. Her choice of attire was always in good taste, never gaudy or flamboyant.
    ‘I cannot understand why a woman like that is going to waste,’ said Massimo.
    ‘Perhaps you should propose to her,’ said Dino.
    Massimo missed the dangerous edge to his tone. ‘A lowly swordsman does not propose to the daughter of a major house.’
    ‘And there is your answer, young masters.’ Virmyre paused and wiped his brow for a moment. ‘There are few who possess the correct standing to make such a proposal. And so Demesne’s most exotic flower withers in the sun.’
    ‘I know how she feels,’ replied Dino. ‘Can we get into cover before you die of old age?’
    ‘Impatience is ever the folly of youth,’ replied Virmyre. ‘But yes. Onward.’
    They walked the final stretch of road in silence, presenting themselves to the noblewoman with the requisite bows.
    ‘I’m so glad you’re safe,’ she said with a smile. ‘I came as soon as I heard. The messengers are spreading the word even as we speak. We all feared the worst.’
    ‘We’re fine,’ replied the Orfano, ‘I had Massimo to look after me,’ making a lazy salute at his friend.
    ‘I live to serve.’ Massimo grinned. ‘But we both know you could have protected the professore alone.’
    They passed under the arch of the gatehouse and into the House Contadino courtyard, crowded with wagons. Chickens clucked and strutted, the sweet smell of straw and manure obscuring all others.
    ‘It seems people have been trying to finish you your whole life,’ said Massimo, ‘and yet here you are. Dino the Untouchable.’
    ‘Not quite,’ replied Dino, gesturing to the ripped sleeve.
    Stephania’s eyes widened. ‘Should I send for a dottore ?’
    Dino shook his head. ‘I’ll attend to to it myself, thank you.’
    Stephania nodded, then turned and headed into the cool corridors of the house.
    Massimo clapped a hand on Dino’s shoulder as the Orfano gazed after her. ‘What’s on your mind?’
    ‘There have been other days like this,’ replied Dino, ‘other ambushes.’ Other times he’d felt ashamed of his difference.

5
    Recollection
– Settembre 314
    Dino had progressed no more than a dozen steps from his apartment when he heard the now-familiar scuff of feet. It was Stephania, of course, clutching her school books to her chest, attempting to run in a dignified fashion. Not easy given the increasingly elaborate gowns her mother insisted upon. Duchess Prospero had eyed Stephania, just seventeen, and made a challenge of her ripening figure to any man with a pulse. Dino, fast approaching twelve, couldn’t see what all the fuss was