The Wind Dancer Read Free Page A

ducats."
    He opened the door and strode out into the street.
    It had been a good evening's work, he thought contentedly. The stakes Andreas was
hoping to win must be very high to make him yield to Caprino's demands with so little
argument. If he was clever he might be able to milk this situation until it rained even
more gold into his coffers.
    He turned at the next corner and instead of proceeding to his own house off the piazza, he
started in the direction of the Via Calimala and the print shop of Giovanni Ballano.
    "You gave in too easily," Lorenzo said as the door closed behind Caprino. "I could have
persuaded him to take less."
    Lion lifted the goblet to his lips. "If Caprino brings me what I want, it will be worth the
price."
    Lorenzo shrugged. "If you believe it to be so."
    "I do." Lion propped his feet on the table, crossing his legs at the ankles. "We leave the
day after tomorrow for Solinari."
    "If Caprino's thief succeeds in your little test."
    "He'd better, or I'll let you have Caprino to persuade as you deem fitting."
    The faintest smile lifted Lorenzo's lips. "No, you won't."
    Lion lifted a black brow. "You think I'm too kind to condemn Caprino to your tender
care?"
    "I think you would take pleasure in punishing Caprino yourself, but you'd not give him to
me." His gaze met Lion's. "Why do you persist in trying to save my soul when I lost it
long ago? When I was a child of eleven, to be precise. That was when I killed my first
man. What were you doing when you were eleven, Lion?"
    "Following my father's banner, watching his men pillage and rape cities. I killed my first
man when I was thirteen." He paused. "And I don't consider my soul lost."
    "Ah, but your killing was bathed in glory and honor," Lorenzo said softly. "There's no
glory in the world of an assassin."
    "Killing is killing."
    "If you thought that was true, you'd let me go after Caprino."
    Lion smiled. "Perhaps I will."
    "No, you won't. To do it, you'd have to live in Caprino's world. My world."
    "It's not your world. Your world is Mandara now."
    "Because you say it is?"
    "Because you earned a place there thirteen years ago."
    "With an assassin's knife."
    "Which saved my life and avenged my father."
    "Glory and honor." Lorenzo's gravelly voice was mocking. "You see how your mind
works? I fear you have a grievous fault, Lion. Somehow you've managed to acquire the
instincts of a bygone age. Chivalry will never prevail in a land where men like me can
grow rich."
    "Chivalry? My God, you're demented, Lorenzo. No one is more of a realist than I. If you
want chivalry, I'm afraid you'll have to apply to Marco."
    "I agree your brother is sickeningly pure and honorable, but I suspect you're infected with
a less virulent form of the same disease." As Lion started to speak, Lorenzo held up his
hand. "Perhaps you don't adhere to the philosophy, my friend, but the instinct is certainly
there. Look how you've insisted on trying to keep me by your side so I wouldn't return to
cutting the throats of the illustrious noblemen of Naples."
    "Most of them needed killing."
    "But I never inquired whether they did or not." Lorenzo smiled faintly. "Killing is
killing."
    "By all that's holy, Lorenzo, will you stop turning my words against me? Why will you
not admit that you're no longer what you were?"
    "Because I am what I am and what I was and what I will be."
    "
Cristo!
" Lion drew an exasperated breath. "And what are you then, damn your cryptic
soul?"
    A sudden smile lit Lorenzo's narrow face. "I told you I had no soul. I am many things but
I can think of only one that has merit."
    "And what is that?"
    "I'm the friend of Lionello Andreas," Lorenzo said softly.
    Lion gazed at him suspiciously. "I have the uneasy feeling you're making mock of me
again."
    Lorenzo raised his brows. "But of course," he said blandly. "How can a man who has no
soul know friendship? I'm glad you're so perceptive. It shows I've trained you well in
these last thirteen years."
    Lion swore softly beneath