Lair of the Lion

with you if you are not waiting here when I return. No adventures, cara mia." The pad of his thumb slid in a long caress over her sensitive inner wrist.
    "I have plenty with which to occupy myself," she replied. "I'm most grateful. Theresa and Violante are here already. When the people come in from the farms and villaggi, I will need their assistance."
    She took her leave, her heart pounding out a rhythm of fear. Nicolai had led his soldiers to victory many times—she had to believe that nothing would happen to him now. As she closed the door, she heard Rolando Bartolmei's voice. A note of accusation caught her attention, and she lingered to hear him speak.
    "Before we go into battle, Don DeMarco, let me ask if I've done something to offend you or make you question my loyalty."
    There was a brief silence. Isabella could well imagine the look on Nicolai's face, his eyebrows raised, the censure he conveyed so silently. "Why would you ask me such a thing, Rolando?"
    "I was out patrolling this morn, long before the sun was up, and I was followed. I never saw the lion, but the tracks in the snow followed my mount everywhere I went. There are no lions loose at this time, yet those same tracks were found near the body this morning, too."
    Isabella pressed a hand against her mouth, her breath catching in her throat. The memory of Rolando Bartolmei's shredded coat rose up to haunt her. She waited for Nicolai's answer.
    It was a long time in coming.
    "I have no reason to doubt your loyalty, Rolando. If you know of such a matter, feel free to confess it to me now, that we might lay the matter to rest."
    "I have always served you loyally." Bartolmei sounded stiff with outrage. "I've never given you cause to doubt me."
    "Nor I you," Nicolai returned softly.
    Isabella closed her eyes briefly, hoping Rolando could hear the sincerity in Nicolai's voice. She was afraid he wouldn't, afraid that small surge of power she felt was subtly influencing the emotions of the men. There was little she could do but trust in Nicolai and the loyalty of his people. Isabella moved slowly down the long, curving staircase. She had duties to perform. She called Sarina and Betto to her, preparing them for the invasion by Don DeMarco's people who lived outside the safety of the walls of the castello.
    Theresa and Violante were everywhere, Violante, well trained and in her element, directing the food preparations and locating supplies. Theresa worked closely and efficiently with both Isabella and Violante, following all instructions so things went smoothly.
    Isabella took a short break the moment she had a chance, hastening to her brother's bedchamber to check on his progress and apologize to Francesca for leaving her so long without anyone to relieve her.
    Francesca glanced up and gestured for hushed voices, a small smile curving her mouth.
    "I just got him back to sleep. His cough is still very bad, but the healer was here and said he looked stronger. I think sleep will help. He's been coughing so much he can't rest." She smoothed back the tangle of hair from Lucca's face with gentle fingertips.
    "I told him everything, Francesca," Isabella confessed. "I should have warned you that he knows about the DeMarco legacy."
    To Isabella's surprise, Francesca blushed. "We talked about it. He's just so…" She broke off, at a loss for words. "We talked all night long. I could listen to his voice forever. Most of the time he's funny and makes me laugh. He always says nice things about the way I look. He said he thought I would be an invaluable asset in destroying the curse. I think he meant it, too." Her eyes were shining as she looked at Isabella.
    "Lucca rarely makes mistakes in his assessments, Francesca. I'm counting on you helping us to destroy the curse."

    She patted Francesca's arm. "Just bear in mind, we no longer have lands, so Lucca has nothing to offer a wife. Certainly not enough to offer the sister of a don."
    Francesca's elegant eyebrows arched. "I've never allowed others to dictate my actions. I doubt I would start now." She suddenly seemed to become aware of the unusually bustle of activity outside the room. She went very still, knowledge seeping in. "It's begun, hasn't it?"
    Francesca said. "Rivellio is invading our valley."
    Isabella swallowed her fear and nodded. "Nicolai's gone out to meet him."
    "I know you're afraid for Nicolai, Isabella, but he is a master at warfare. He plans every battle carefully. His men will watch his back, and