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"No, Master," Amadeo whispered. "Master, I beg you. " "Yes, for it's evil blood," I said, "and it's all the more savory to me. I would drink the stuff of murderers. Tell him, Bianca, of wine laced with potions, and lives forfeit for those who
have made you the instrument of their most wicked plans. "
"Leave me now," she said again without the slightest fear of me. Her eyes blazed. "Marius de Romanus, you cannot judge me. Not you with your magician's powers, not you with your boys. I will say nothing except that you must leave my house. "
I moved to take her in my arms. I did not know when I would stop but only that I would reveal the horror of it to him, that he must see it, he must see the suffering, he must see the pain.
"Master," he whispered, struggling to come between us, "I will give up my petitions to you forever, if only you do not harm her. Do you understand? Master, I will beg nothing further. Let her go. "
I held her, looking down at her, smelling the sweetest perfume of her youth, her hair, her blood.
"Take her and I die with her, Master," said Amadeo.
It was enough. It was more than enough.
I moved away from her. I felt a strange confusion. The music in the rooms became a noise. I think I sat upon her bed. The blood thirst in me was terrible. I might have slain them all, I thought, looking toward the crowd beyond, and then I believe I said:
"We are murderers together, you and I, Bianca. "
I saw that Amadeo was weeping. He stood with his back to the company. His face was glistening with tears.
And she, she the fragrant beauty with her braided blond hair came to sit beside me, so boldly, and to take my hand, my very hand.
"We are murderers together, my lord," she said, "Yes, I can speak for myself as you demanded. But understand that I am given the commissions by those who would as easily send me to Hell in the same way. It is they who mix the potions for the fatal wine. It is they who mark those who would receive it. And I know not the reasons. I know only that if I do not obey, I shall die. "
"Then tell me who they are, my exquisite darling," I said. "I am hungry for them. So hungry you can't dream. "
"They are my kinsmen, sir," she said. "Such has been my heritage. Such has been my family. Such have been my guardians here. "
She had begun to weep but she clung to me, as though my strength were the only truth for her suddenly and indeed I realized it was.
My threats of moments ago had only bound her to me all the more firmly, and Amadeo drew close, urging me to kill all those who kept her under their power, all those who made her wretched, whatever the ties of blood.
I held her as she bowed her head. From her mind, so often confusing to me, I read the names as though they were written in plain script.
I knew the men, all Florentines who had come often to call on her. Tonight they held a feast in a neighboring house. They were moneylenders, some might have called them bankers, but those they murdered were those from whom they had borrowed and did not wish to repay.
"You shall be rid of them, my beauty," I said to her. I touched her lightly with my lips.
She turned to me, and gave me countless and violent small kisses.
"And what shall I owe for this? " she asked, even as she kissed me, even as her hands reached to stroke my hair.
"Only that you say nothing of what you saw in me tonight. "
She gazed at me with her tranquil oval eyes, and her mind closed up, as though she would never reveal to me her thoughts again.
"You have my pledge, my lord," she whispered. "And so my soul grows ever more heavy. "
"No, I shall take the weight from it," I said, as we made to go.
How sad seemed her sudden tears. I kissed her, tasting them, wishing they were blood and forever forswearing the blood within her.
"Don't weep for those who have used you," I whispered. "Go back to the gaiety and the music. Leave the dark commissions to me. "
We found the Florentines drunk at their banquet, paying us no heed as we entered without introduction or explanation and took our places at the overladen table. A noisy band of musicians played. The floor was slippery with spilt wine.
Amadeo was eager for it, filled with excitement, attentive to my slow and methodical seduction of each one of them, as I drank the blood lustily, and let the bodies tip forward upon the groaning board. The musicians fled.
