Page 27

Eight

S anchia shivered as she gazed through the iron bars of the gates at the maze. When she had first seen the tall hedges of the labyrinth last night she had thought they resembled the walls of a fortress, but she had never dreamed she’d actually have to breach them.

“I still don’t think we should enter the maze through the south entrance,” Marco whispered. “Why don’t we try the north entrance, where there’s no officer in charge?”

“No.” Lion didn’t look at him as he opened the gate. “We go through the south entrance.”

“But we should—”

“I want Rodrigo,” Lion said savagely. “Give me five minutes and then bring Sanchia.” He faded into the dense shrubbery bordering the gate.

Her body icy now with foreboding in addition to fear, Sanchia wrapped her cloak closer about her and continued to stare at the maze. Death. Rodrigo Estaban was going to die within minutes at Lion’s hand.

“It’s time to go.” Marco took her elbow and propelled her gently forward. “Quickly, Sanchia.”

There was no sign of Rodrigo or the other guard at the south entrance of the maze. Lion came out of the maze and knelt to wipe his sword on the grass before sheathing it. Blood edged his scabbard. Sanchia couldn’t seem to tear her gaze from the wet, dark stain on the grass.

“I dragged them both just inside,” Lion said tersely. “Be careful not to stumble over them.” He turned back into the maze.

Marco lit the lantern as soon as they had joined Lion within the screening confines of the hedges.

Rodrigo Estaban and his fellow guard lay on their backs, their dead eyes staring sightlessly up at the black heavens.

Sanchia swallowed to ease the queasiness in her stomach. She wheeled sharply away from the bodies. “This way.” She kept her eyes fastened straight ahead as she moved swiftly down the first passage and turned right.

After several minutes of convoluted, twisting turns, Marco asked doubtfully, “Are you sure you didn’t take the wrong path, Sanchia? I think we may be going around in circles.”

Sanchia shook her head. “Two more turns and we should reach the storehouse.” She had a sudden terrifying thought.

“If the map is right.” What if Vittorio had drawn the map incorrectly?

She took the last turn and felt weak with relief.

A small, windowless wooden building lay before them. “There it is!”

“We don’t have much time.” Lion moved quickly forward and inserted the key in the lock of the door. “It must have taken us at least ten minutes to make our way here.” The door swung open. “The lantern, Marco.”

Sanchia waited outside as Marco and Lion disappeared within the storeroom. Now that she was alone she was beset with a fear so intense it almost suffocated her. The air seemed to vibrate with a sense of waiting menace.

Marco emerged from the storehouse a few minutes later. “We found it!” His hazel eyes were shining in the lantern light. “It was there, Sanchia.”

Lion followed him, carrying a medium-sized wooden chest. “Considering the trouble we’ve suffered I would have been a little irritated if it wasn’t,” he said dryly. “Get us out of here, Sanchia.”

She nodded eagerly, her gaze on the mahogany chest. The Wind Dancer was in that plain wooden container.

How strange that such a small object, an object she had never set eyes upon was important enough to Lion and his family to cause all this effort and fear.

But soon the terror would be over, soon they would all be safe.

She turned and began the complicated trek back to the south entrance.

She had been foolish, she told herself, to let her own cowardly fear give way to an icy sense of doom.

She took a right turn and then a left, her pace increasing.

Everything was going well. Lion had his Wind Dancer.

They would be back at the entrance before the watch passed.

She turned right, left, right again. The high walls of greenery were pressing in on her in a smothering blur. She was almost running now, the pulse in her temple pounding wildly. “The entrance is right ahead,” she called back to Lion and Marco. “One more turn and we’ll—”

Drawn swords glittered in the moonlight!

She skidded to a halt, her eyes widening in horror. “No!” The narrow passage ahead was crowded with men in armor dressed in the same yellow-and-white livery Rodrigo and his comrades wore.

Sanchia heard Lion’s low voice cursing behind her. “Damari.”

“Greetings, Lion.” A man at the forefront of the soldiers took a step forward. “What a pleasure it is to see you at my palazzo under such intriguing circumstances. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to put down the Wind Dancer and surrender to me?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so.” Damari took another step forward and the light cast by the lantern in Marco’s raised hand fell full on him.

Sanchia was taken aback by the looks of Damari.

Barely of medium height with a barrel chest and overdeveloped torso, his muscular legs were round as tree trunks and far too short.

He seemed almost grotesquely malproportioned to Sanchia.

And when her gaze rose to his tea-colored eyes glittering in the lantern light, she realized his soul was as misshapen as his body. She saw only malevolence in him.

“I hoped you wouldn’t give up too easily,” Damari said lightly.

“Of course, that is why I permitted you to come into the maze and retrieve your property instead of cutting you down as you entered the gates. I knew you’d struggle harder once you had the Wind Dancer in your hands.

It’s always more difficult to give up once victory is in our grasp. ”

Lion’s expression was impassive. “A trap. You knew we were coming.”

Damari nodded. “What a wonderful surprise when I learned you were going to visit me. I hadn’t even realized you’d returned from France and discovered my acquisition of your statue until I received a message last night in Pisa that you’d made plans to get it back.”

“Then you didn’t permit Sanchia to steal the key from Estaban?”

“Oh no. Either your thief is exceptionally skilled or Rodrigo was extraordinarily thick-headed. I wasn’t happy with Rodrigo.” He shrugged. “And so I assigned him to guard duty tonight.”

“In order that I would kill him?”

“A fitting punishment for his stupidity, don’t you think?” His gaze shifted to Sanchia. “And this must be your clever little thief. Present me to her, Lion.”

“Who sent the message?”

“Guido Caprino.” The smile lingered on Damari’s lips. “He requested one thing only in return—that I use your little slave in the fashion which will give me the most pleasure.”

Marco began to swear softly yet vehemently.

“That distresses you, Marco?” Damari asked. “But then you always did have a soft heart where the ladies were concerned. Lion and I are of a tougher breed. We don’t balk at using any means at hand to get what we want.” His gaze remained on Sanchia. “Do we, Lion?”

“But I protect what is my own.” Lion’s grip tightened on the wooden chest. “You should have known I’d never let you take the Wind Dancer.”

“But I did take it, just as eventually I’ll take everything from you, Lion. After I’m done toying with you, I may even let you live so that you can appreciate your loss.”

“And are you toying with me now?”

“Of course.” Damari’s smile widened as his pale eyes returned to Lion.

“Isn’t that clear? When are you going to begin wriggling on my hook, so that I can enjoy myself?

Perhaps I should detail your predicament.

There are ten men blocking this passage and another ten outside the entrance.

I’ve deployed another ten outside the north entrance of the maze.

” He lifted his gloved hand and slowly closed his fingers into a fist. “The trap is closed. Consequently, either you surrender or you run.”

“Run where?” Lion asked warily. “You have a fancy to chase us through this damnable maze?”

“How clever of you to understand. Naturally, it will be to no avail. I know this maze and, even with the map I assume you’ve managed to bribe from one of my men, you’ll soon become hopelessly lost. It’s impossible to read a map while you’re being pursued.

How long do you think you’ll be able to avoid capture, Lion?

Fifteen minutes? An hour? And every minute you’ll know we’re right behind you or waiting around the next hedge. ”

Lion studied Damari’s expression. “You’ve played this game before?”

“Only on a few special occasions. I make it a practice not to indulge myself too frequently or the pleasure loses its bite. Though I admit the maze was the reason I purchased this particular palazzo. I immediately saw its splendid possibilities.” He drew his sword from its scabbard.

“Now, which shall it be? Surrender or the maze? I do hope you choose the maze. I’ll even give you a few minutes’ head start as an incentive. ”

“Then I’d hate to disappoint you.” Lion shifted the chest under his right arm and his left hand closed on Sanchia’s elbow. “The maze.”

He turned and ran down the passage from which they had come, dragging Sanchia behind him.

Marco was right behind them as they made the first turn. “Cristo , Lion, what’s the use in letting him play with us when we—”

Lion’s words cut through his question. “Damari’s right; a map is useless in a chase through this maze, but he doesn’t know about Sanchia’s gift.” He turned his head toward her. “Take us to the western perimeter and hurry!”

Sanchia wasted no time in questioning him. She turned and started at a dead run through the maze.

“Your head start is over.” Damari’s voice rang through the greenery. “Do you hear me, Lion? I’m coming after you!”

Sanchia’s heart plunged and she began muttering frantic prayers beneath her breath. What if she became too frightened to remember the way? No, there was the long border hedge directly in front of her.

“This is it.” She gasped. “But there’s no entrance here. Why do—”