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Soldiers continued to file into the chamber until it was full. It appeared that the entire Florentine army had been assembled—all three hundred of them.
Machiavelli nodded at the commanding officer, who bowed to him.
“You there.” He gestured to the soldiers who were holding Raven. “Release her. Take three of your brethren and carry the Medici dog’s body outside the city. Burn everything and report back here.”
The soldiers bowed and obeyed.
Raven pressed herself close to William and Cara, eyes wide.
“I didn’t expect that,” Aoibhe muttered, cursing in Irish.
“I didn’t live this long to have my life ended by a Medici.” Niccolò favored her with his back as he ascended the throne.
He arranged his robes and looked down at Raven and William.
“Now, what’s to be done with the two of you?”
Chapter Fifty-four
“The letter from the Curia regarding the humans is at your feet.” William nodded toward the paper.
A soldier picked it up and handed it to Niccolò. He read it and returned it.
“If the Curia want the females so badly, it’s tempting to keep them in order to negotiate a more detailed, protracted peace.”
William cursed.
Niccolò lifted his hand. “But for a new prince, that would be unwise. The females have no value to me except as political pawns, and so it’s better to send them as a gift to our enemy and then negotiate the peace.”
“No,” Raven protested.
“It isn’t safe here,” William cautioned her in English, speaking under his breath.
“How long, Niccolò?” William lifted his voice, speaking now in Italian. “How long have you been waiting in the wings?”
“I’d like an answer to that question, as well,” Aoibhe interjected.
“Neither of you are in a position to make any demands.” Niccolò straightened on the throne. “But since I am in a mood to be magnanimous, I’ll reveal that I discovered Lorenzo’s activities some time ago. I kept my discovery to myself. Not even he knew I was aware of his duplicity. He took the risk, while I bided my time. But he was supposed to destroy you.”
“We could duel for the throne.” William barely restrained a smile.
“We both know I cannot best you face-to-face.”
“Face-to-back, then?” William taunted him.
“I doubt you’ll find it amusing when I set the army against you.”
“I may not be able to defeat them”—William’s tone grew menacing—“but I shall die trying. If you’re certain the army is loyal to you, then you won’t mind putting that to the test.”
“The odds are in my favor.”
William’s smile widened. “You can’t know what lies in their hearts, Niccolò. We’ve enjoyed centuries of prosperity and peace under my command. Even now I have negotiated a way to keep the Curia at bay.”
A murmur rippled across the assembly of soldiers.
William nodded appreciatively. “It would seem I still have friends in the ranks.”
“You assume much. Perhaps I shall force you to surrender by taking your pet and enjoying her for a while.”
William pressed his lips together, restraining his reaction. “Any harm that comes to her will be reported to the Curia by their spies.”
“Yes,” Machiavelli mused. “I am well aware of that. Your pet smells sweet, but she’s infirm. I don’t find her tempting.”
He gestured to the commanding officer of the army. “General, choose ten of your best and most trusted soldiers to accompany the humans to Vatican City. They are to deliver the females unharmed and unspoiled.”
“No,” Raven cried in English. “I don’t want to go. William, do something!”
“Cassita,” he whispered. His eyes held a warning.
“You promised,” she said accusingly. “You promised we’d stay together.”
“It’s the only way.”
Raven bowed to Niccolò and switched to Italian. “Please don’t send me to Rome.”
He ignored her and spoke to William. “Is your pet addressing me?”
“Yes,” she replied.
The new prince scowled. “Your pet is spoiled and needs to learn its place.”
“I’m not deaf. You’re discussing my fate in front of me. I should be allowed to say something,” Raven countered.
“Human beings don’t have status in this chamber except as food.”
“I didn’t think the great race of vampyres would be speciesist.” Raven’s hands clenched at her sides.
Machiavelli’s eyes flickered to hers. “I’ll indulge you for a moment, but only because you have an enviable vocabulary. Be brief.”
“Thank you.” Raven took a deep breath, trying to slow the rapid beating of her heart.
“In your book Il Principe, you wrote that when there is no tribunal to appeal to, we look to results.”
At this, Machiavelli leaned forward. “You read Il Principe?”
“I read it in English, but yes.”
His chest puffed out. “Interesting. Proceed.”
“I can provide you with the results that you want, without being delivered to the Curia.”
“How?”
“Father Kavanaugh is my friend.” Various whisperings filled the chamber, but Raven ignored them. “He thinks I’m in danger, which is why he wants me in Rome. If you would let me write to him, I can persuade him I’m safe and that the Curia should leave Florence in peace.”
“While I appreciate the gesture, the priest has demanded your presence. What makes you think you can change his mind?”
“War isn’t in the interest of the Curia and it isn’t in your interest, either. Let me broker a peace.”
Niccolò chuckled. “A human girl brokering a peace agreement between the Curia and us. Oh, this pet is a delight. Truly. I almost want to give you the opportunity to try your hand at peacemaking simply for the sake of amusement. But that would not be judicious.
“The Curia want you. Perhaps they want your sister. Neither of you have any worth to me so I’m gifting you to them. What they decide to do with you afterward is their concern. The fate of your master is a separate case. But it’s fair to say he will not live long.”
Raven stared the vampyre in the eye. “Send him with us.”
Niccolò smiled triumphantly at William. “It would seem your pet’s affections have been alienated. She wishes the Curia to execute you.”
“If you won’t send him with us then let me stay with him. Please.”
Machiavelli’s eyes bored into hers. “Tell me, would you still be willing to write to the Curia and ask for peace, after I execute him?”
Raven flinched. “I don’t think sentient beings should be killed indiscriminately—whether the being is a vampyre or a human. Peace between you and the Curia is better for everyone, including humans.
“I know you know this, Signor Machiavelli. I’ve read your works. You reject tyranny. But if you execute William for no purpose other than to show your political power, you will become what you despise—a tyrant. And after everything I’ve read, I can’t believe you’d do that.”
Machiavelli scowled. “I have evolved. The human I was no longer exists. I’m flattered you read the works I wrote when I was human, but I’m not convinced by your argument. The action most likely to yield results is the one I’ve described. You will go to the Curia. And the former prince will be executed.
“General, choose the soldiers who will be escorting the females to the Vatican.”
Ten soldiers moved forward at the general’s indication, and William handed over Cara to one of them.
“William, please.” Raven clung to his arm, even as a soldier began to pull her away.
He gestured toward her and lifted his voice. “May I have my jacket?”
Raven’s jaw dropped. “Your jacket?”
“Think of Cara,” he whispered, in English.
A soldier helped her out of t
he jacket and delivered it to William, who put it on, discreetly patting the pockets.
“Stefan,” Niccolò said, addressing him. “You will accompany the humans to the Vatican, ensuring they arrive in good health. Take the letter from the priest with you.”
The physician stood and bowed. “With respect, my lord. We don’t have permission to travel through the intervening territories. Our neighbors will see the soldiers and kill us.”
“Couriers will be sent before you, offering an explanation. I’ll see to it a messenger is sent to the Curia tonight, announcing your arrival.”
“But what about hunters,” Stefan protested, “or ferals?”
“You will be traveling with a detachment of Florentine soldiers. I trust they can handle a few predators.” Niccolò beckoned to one of the soldiers who were guarding him. “Remove the signet ring from the hand of the former prince. I have need of it.”
