Lair of the Lion

She also heard that strange, grunting cough.
    "What kind of animal makes that sound?" she asked Francesca, already fairly certain of the answer.
    Francesca hopped to her feet restlessly and shrugged. "A lion, of course. They are everywhere in the valley, in the palazzo. They are the guardians of our famiglia. Our guardians and our keepers." She sighed, obviously bored with the subject. "Tell me of life outside this valley. Down the great mountains. What is it like? I have never been anywhere other than this place."
    More and more Isabella believed that Francesca was younger than she appeared. Whose truant child was she that she wouldn't reveal her full identity? Recalling her own wayward childhood, Isabella decided not to press the point and frighten off her new friend. "I have never been in mountains such as these," Isabella told her. "The palazzi in other places I have been are much like this one but not as ornate."
    "Have you ever been to a ball?" Francesca asked wistfully.
    Isabella returned from the alcove to stand by the chair in front of the hearth. The fire had burned down, leaving smoldering embers. The faint light cast an eerie glow on the wall behind her. She turned her head to look at her own shadow, her thick braid falling past the curve of her bottom in the flowing robe. She did a slow pirouette, watching her shadow on the wall, wincing as her back protested. "Yes, more than one. I do love to dance."
    Francesca tried a spin, holding her arms out as if she were dancing with a partner.
    Isabella laughed, turning to look at Francesca's shadow, but the glowing embers weren't strong enough to cast the young woman's silhouette on the wall alongside Isabella's.
    "It will be fun having you here," Francesca said. "You can teach me all the proper steps.
    I've had to make up my own."

    "It will have to be another night, when my back doesn't hurt, but I'd love to teach you to dance. Does Don DeMarco dance, Francesca?"
    Francesca swayed this way and that, turning one way and the other as she danced around the room. "There has been no music in the palazzo for a long time. I love music and plays and dance and all the young men in their finery. I have never seen such things, mind you, but I have heard tales. We do not entertain here."
    "Why is that?" Isabella asked, trying not to smile at Francesca's exuberance.
    "The lions, of course. They would not tolerate such activities. They rule here, and we obey. They would not accept so many visitors, although they are quiet tonight. They must be accepting you, or they would be roaring in protest as they did last night. When you stuck your hand into the lion's mouth, he judged you, friend or foe. Those seeking Nicolai's favor must first stick their fingers inside the lion's mouth. If he bites, Nicolai knows they are the enemy, and they cannot enter."
    Isabella stared into the embers of the smoldering fire, frowning as she did so. Francesca must be mistaken. She was a young woman, unbridled in her thoughts and actions. She must be making up stories or repeating gossip as she had earlier, when she believed the don had slashed Isabella. "Ruled by lions? How can humans be ruled by a lion? The beasts are wild and dangerous, and they were used by barbarians to kill people of faith. But, those in power commanded the lions, not the opposite." She shivered when Francesca did not reply.
    "How many lions are in this valley?" she asked.
    There was no answer. Isabella turned her head, and Francesca was once more gone from the bedchamber. Isabella sighed. She would be certain to ask the girl the next time she saw her just where the secret passageway was. It would most likely to be a useful piece of information to have.

Chapter Four
    "Isabella." Sarina shook her shoulder gently but insistently. "Come, bambina, you must wake now. Hurry, Isabella, wake now."
    Isabella lifted her lashes and stared up into Sarina's kind face. "What is it? It's not yet light." She moved carefully, the lacerations on her back more painful now that the medicine had worn off. She tried to keep from wincing. "Is something wrong, Sarina?"
    "You have been ordered to leave this place. The supplies are packed, and your escort is waiting with your horse." Sarina refused to meet Isabella's eyes. "He will not relent, signorina. Hurry now. He has said you must leave immediately. I must tend to your back."
    Isabella tilted her chin defiantly. "We have a bargain. The don is a man of his word, and I insist that he keep it. I