him access to the papal monies for his campaigns."
"And the Wind Dancer is ancient?"
Lion smiled curiously. "Oh yes, very ancient. Damari is hoping to dangle the Wind
Dancer before Cesare and Alexander and possibly gain a dukedom from the pope."
Sanchia's eyes widened. "But they would surely not give so much?"
"They might. Alexander is superstitious and there are many legends about the Wind
Dancer."
"What kind of legends?"
Lion shrugged. "Power. Legend says the Wind Dancer can give any victory to the one
who possesses it."
"But you don't believe it."
He was silent a moment. "I don't know. The lives of my family have always been too
intertwined with the Wind Dancer for us to look at it objectively. If the statue does
possess power, we've never tried to use it."
"Why not?"
"Kinship," Lion said simply. "The Wind Dancer is of our family. We of the Andreas
family may not be shy about manipulating others to suit us, but we stand together. We
will not use each other."
She shook her head in disbelief. "But a dukedom for a statue... "
"What's a dukedom in Italy today? Cesare gathered a parcel of little states into his basket
this year alone." His lips twisted. "For that matter, what is Italy today? Genoa and Milan
are gone, Naples torn between the French and Spaniards. Florence is licking at the French
boots and still out to pluck Pisa. All the rest of the
signories
are maneuvering to survive
and not be swept by the pope and Rome into the empire Cesare is trying to create for
himself. While France, Spain, and England have finally become unified and have strong
national armies, we still hire mercenaries who have loyalty only to the highest bidder. I
don't wonder Borgia considers all of Italy ripe for conquest."
There was an indifference in his tone that surprised her after the passionate intensity with
which he'd spoken of his family and the Wind Dancer. "You don't care? It's your country,
after all. Is it not important to you?"
He shook his head. "Mandara is my country. I have no interest in what the rest of Italy
becomes as long as they leave me and my people out of their petty bickering." He tilted
his head to look at her curiously. "Is it important to you?"
She thought about it. "A slave has no country, I suppose." She paused. "But I think I'd
like to feel as if I belonged somewhere. It would make me... warm."
His gaze narrowed on her face. "You accept being a slave so meekly?"
"I don't remember ever being anything else."
"And yet you have courage. I would have thought..."
She looked at him inquiringly.
"I couldn't standit," he said with sudden violence. "I'd want to kill someone or run away
to a land where I could be free. Haven't you ever wanted to do that?"
"I've never thought about it. From the time I was a tiny child my mother kept telling me I
must accept my station in life and make the best of it." She smiled tremulously. "And I'm
not really very brave. Sometimes it was hard just to live from day to day. I have had little
time to think about what it might be like to be free."
"But you should have thought about it," he said fiercely. "Giovanni had no right to---
Gran Dio
, what am I saying? In another moment I'll be talking you into running away
from me."He stood up. "Don't try it. I warn you that I'd find you and be most annoyed.
And don't mistake a temporary madness brought on by the warmth of the fire and those
huge eyes gazing at me for anything enduring. Your mother was right. Accept that you're
mine and will stay mine."
She was bewildered. "But I have accepted--Where are you going?"
"To look to the horses." He was already at the door. "Antonio's son is a cowardly lout.
The last time I was here he was too afraid of Tabron to unsaddle him."
"So you're going yourself to see if he's been taken care of?"
"A horse can be the difference between life and death to a man. It doesn't denote softness
to see that an animal is well cared for." He scowled. "What are you smiling about?"
She quickly wiped any
"And the Wind Dancer is ancient?"
Lion smiled curiously. "Oh yes, very ancient. Damari is hoping to dangle the Wind
Dancer before Cesare and Alexander and possibly gain a dukedom from the pope."
Sanchia's eyes widened. "But they would surely not give so much?"
"They might. Alexander is superstitious and there are many legends about the Wind
Dancer."
"What kind of legends?"
Lion shrugged. "Power. Legend says the Wind Dancer can give any victory to the one
who possesses it."
"But you don't believe it."
He was silent a moment. "I don't know. The lives of my family have always been too
intertwined with the Wind Dancer for us to look at it objectively. If the statue does
possess power, we've never tried to use it."
"Why not?"
"Kinship," Lion said simply. "The Wind Dancer is of our family. We of the Andreas
family may not be shy about manipulating others to suit us, but we stand together. We
will not use each other."
She shook her head in disbelief. "But a dukedom for a statue... "
"What's a dukedom in Italy today? Cesare gathered a parcel of little states into his basket
this year alone." His lips twisted. "For that matter, what is Italy today? Genoa and Milan
are gone, Naples torn between the French and Spaniards. Florence is licking at the French
boots and still out to pluck Pisa. All the rest of the
signories
are maneuvering to survive
and not be swept by the pope and Rome into the empire Cesare is trying to create for
himself. While France, Spain, and England have finally become unified and have strong
national armies, we still hire mercenaries who have loyalty only to the highest bidder. I
don't wonder Borgia considers all of Italy ripe for conquest."
There was an indifference in his tone that surprised her after the passionate intensity with
which he'd spoken of his family and the Wind Dancer. "You don't care? It's your country,
after all. Is it not important to you?"
He shook his head. "Mandara is my country. I have no interest in what the rest of Italy
becomes as long as they leave me and my people out of their petty bickering." He tilted
his head to look at her curiously. "Is it important to you?"
She thought about it. "A slave has no country, I suppose." She paused. "But I think I'd
like to feel as if I belonged somewhere. It would make me... warm."
His gaze narrowed on her face. "You accept being a slave so meekly?"
"I don't remember ever being anything else."
"And yet you have courage. I would have thought..."
She looked at him inquiringly.
"I couldn't standit," he said with sudden violence. "I'd want to kill someone or run away
to a land where I could be free. Haven't you ever wanted to do that?"
"I've never thought about it. From the time I was a tiny child my mother kept telling me I
must accept my station in life and make the best of it." She smiled tremulously. "And I'm
not really very brave. Sometimes it was hard just to live from day to day. I have had little
time to think about what it might be like to be free."
"But you should have thought about it," he said fiercely. "Giovanni had no right to---
Gran Dio
, what am I saying? In another moment I'll be talking you into running away
from me."He stood up. "Don't try it. I warn you that I'd find you and be most annoyed.
And don't mistake a temporary madness brought on by the warmth of the fire and those
huge eyes gazing at me for anything enduring. Your mother was right. Accept that you're
mine and will stay mine."
She was bewildered. "But I have accepted--Where are you going?"
"To look to the horses." He was already at the door. "Antonio's son is a cowardly lout.
The last time I was here he was too afraid of Tabron to unsaddle him."
"So you're going yourself to see if he's been taken care of?"
"A horse can be the difference between life and death to a man. It doesn't denote softness
to see that an animal is well cared for." He scowled. "What are you smiling about?"
She quickly wiped any
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