Brotherhood: The Recruits [15a/?]
Brotherhood: The Recruits
Author: name_me_regret
AN: This chapter was so long that I had to cut it in half. I still haven’t finished on it, which means I’m still writing. The next one might not be as long, but there was no good place to cut it before where I cut it now. Oh well.
Chapter Fifteen: Augusto's Persephone
March, 1499
Augusto paused at the door and hesitated before finally knocking, and all he heard was only a shuffling sound. He had known there wouldn't be an answer; however, he preferred to announce his presence before entering. He tried the latch and pushed it open, and as he did, Augusto saw her at the window while one hand moved absently over her stomach. It had been almost five months since she'd been attacked in the stable, and during that time she had hardly spoken and would only eat when coaxed to do so.
Fabiola had started to get sick, and they'd taken her to see a doctor. He had diagnosed what they had feared, which is that Fabiola was pregnant by her attacker. "Mio dio, no," she had whimpered, and then spoke no more. She had retreated into herself and at times she didn't seem to see even him. Augusto despaired at seeing her in such a state and being helpless on how to bring her out of the perpetual haze she was lost in. He knew she was still in there somewhere, since she had silently defended him one day.
Their father hadn't understood why the metalwork he did was coming out like a novice's failed attempt. Eventually, he had to stop pretending that it was grief over his sister's attack that made the swords and daggers come out poorly made. Augusto told him that it was Fabiola who had crafted every work of art that was sold and in high demand at the market, and he was the one that painted in his sister's place.
The man had beaten him until he was near unconsciousness. When he couldn't see out of one eye, or speak without slurring his words his father had suddenly stopped. It had taken him a moment to realize the door to Augusto's studio had opened and when he glanced over it was to see Fabiola. She was only wearing her night dress, but she didn't even seem to realize it as she walked over to her fallen brother's side and wrapped her arms around him like a mother protecting her child. She had stared up at her father with her big, light brown eyes, and his father's resolve had crumpled. While his father was being overcome with her doe eyes, Augusto could feel the swell of her belly against his chest where life was growing. He had sworn then that he would protect her and that child with everything he had.
Augusto approached her and took her by the hand to lead her to her bed, and while he set the tray he was balancing on the nightstand, he helped her slip under the covers. He brought the tray over then, sitting on the chair that had an almost permanent position next to the bed. Augusto placed the tray with breakfast on her lap and gently coaxed her to eat by herself. The young man was overjoyed when she finally lifted the spoon to bring the soup to her mouth, and quickly lifted the napkin to clean her when she didn't notice that some broth dribbled down her chin. As she continued to eat herself, there was loud knocking at the door, making Fabiola flinch. Augusto cursed under his breath when she dropped the spoon with a clatter as her hands started shaking.
"Who is it?" he demanded, knowing it wasn't either his father or Caterina, because they knew not to knock so hard as to startle Fabiola. He carded his fingers through the strands of her light brown hair to calm her down, but it didn't seem to be working as he heard the door open behind him. Augusto turned a glare on the figure standing there, and the fact that it was Ginevra made no difference to him as she paused uncertainly in the doorway. "What are you doing up here?"
He never let anyone come up the stairs and neither did their father, so that meant she had snuck up here looking for him after his father had most likely left her with instructions to wait in the studio. "Your father-"
"Would have left you in the studio, and never allowed you to come up here," he said, cutting off whatever she would have said otherwise. Augusto turned his back on her to whisper a soothing word to Fabiola, but her labored breathing continued as her heartbeat hitched into a frenzied pace. If the young man were paying more attention, he'd have seen Fabiola's eyes fixed over his shoulder as she stared at Ginevra, who glared darkly at her while Augusto fawned over his twin sister.
The shorter girl had truly believed that having Ottavio take her virtue would make Augusto see the filth of her sin. However, it hadn't worked out as she had planned, since the stupid horse had completely shut down so Augusto had come looking for her. Now he knew she'd been raped, and thus her plan had failed. Ginevra wanted to make it seem as if Fabiola had been a willing participant; a puttana. Then to top it all off, she had gotten pregnant and it presented a problem.
Ottavio had found out she was with child and shocked them all by stating that he wanted to marry the giant! Granted, by that point Ottavio was an inch over six feet, but Fabiola was still taller than Ginevra! Besides, she had always thought the dark-haired young man fancied her, and the only reason he'd volunteered to rape Fabiola was to please Ginevra. So, her hatred for Fabiola was growing more every time she came over and Augusto was too busy to see her, or Ottavio asked her about Fabiola's and the baby's health.
Ginevra stormed out of the room, slamming the door as Fabiola cringed and tried to curl into a ball under the covers. "It's alright," Augusto murmured as he gently caressed her face. "It's just you and I, and I won't let anyone else hurt you."
He grinned as her eyes focused on him after what seemed to be months of her staring into space. Although, the smile slid off his face as she opened her mouth to speak after so much silence on her part. "He'll come for me again, and you won't be able to see him." Her eyes pierced the depths of his soul as a melancholy smile curled her lips.
"What do you mean? Do you know who attacked you, Fabiola?" He despaired at seeing her caramel eyes start to glaze over again, and knew that she had become lost to him once more. "No, please don't do this again. Talk to me! Tell me who hurt you," he pleaded desperately as he gave her shoulders a slight shake. She made a distressed sound and shrunk away from him, and Augusto immediately regretted his actions. "I'm sorry, cuore dolce," he whispered, forgetting that she hated being called sweetheart. However, his familiar voice seemed to give her comfort and leaned forward to rest against him. Augusto wrapped his arms around her in an embrace and started to hum the lullaby their mother had sung to them as children. The whole time he was singing to her and until she fell asleep, her words continued to haunt him.
'...you won't be able to see him.'
~o~
At the window is where Augusto would sit her every morning when she woke up, and there she stayed until the day turned to afternoon. She could see the road from there and people moving along; living their lives. In the morning, at high noon, and then just before sundown her brother would bring her a tray of food, and at times he'd encourage to eat on her own. Fabiola didn't want to eat or even think of food, but his face; that face she loved so much, would get so sad, so she ate what he brought her. She always tried to refrain from doing things that upset him, so she never spoke.
Fabiola had tried speaking once, but her words had distressed him so that she had shoved them down so deep inside herself. However, when she did that, pushing down all the hate, fear, and pain, she got a little lost. Then she wondered if it was better like that, and she'd allow herself to drift just on the edge of consciousness. She was vaguely aware of things happening outside her own world, but mostly they weren't enough to ground her to reality. And as she drifted loud noises startled her so badly, and reminded her of her attack.
However, today was a different day though, and she was aware enough to realize that Caterina was dressing her in street clothes. She hadn't worn a dress in a long time, and her old ones wouldn't fit her anymore, so that means someone had bought these for her. Fabiola didn't linger on this thought for more than a few seconds before it slipped away much like sand through her fingers. When she became conscious of her surroundings again, it was to realize that she was riding in the back of their cart. The hay had been covered by a quilt, and she was curled against Caterina's side in the same manner she use to do when she was a child.
When she dared lift her head, her eyes moved to observe the world around her and which for a long time she had only seen through the window of her room. It was only Augusto and the maid whose presence and touch she didn't instinctively shy away from, and on occasion her father. The only reason being was that he had a booming voice, and at times he didn't always control it.
"It's alright, tesoro," the older woman muttered as Augusto glanced back at them from the driver's seat. "We need to have the doctor give you a check-up, and to see if the baby is doing fine." Her warm hand settled over her distended belly, and Fabiola calmed as she sank back against Caterina's warm, soft body.
She was watching the clouds as her thoughts wandered, and she didn't know that they had arrived as her brother got off to help Caterina first and then her. Fabiola felt a sensation of pins and needles all over her body, and clutched at her brother's hand. "You're alright," he reassured her, and she trusted him completely so she followed him inside the building. The white beak-like mask sent a chill through her, but her brother's large hand covered her own, so she was fine.
When he tried to pull away, she held on tighter so he wouldn't let go, and when he tried to pry her fingers off did she finally turn to look right at him. Augusto was red in the face, and Fabiola's head tilted curiously at such a display. "Fabiola, I can't be here with you while the doctor checks you over." When she merely stared at him he turned even redder. "Caterina can stay with you," he stressed. Fabiola blinked before turning away from him, but finally released his hand. He may have sighed, but she was lost within her mind once more so she wasn't sure of too much right at that moment. The thing that did register as starkly as a light in the darkness was the unfamiliar hands that started to remove her clothes, and she stiffened.
'Now, you're finally going to be mine.'
Her mind transported her back to that time and she remembered the feel of Ottavio's large hands on her, and she was screaming all of a sudden. Fabiola was vaguely aware of Augusto and Caterina's voices as they tried to calm her down. Fabiola's mind couldn't process what they were saying, and all she knew was the fear.
It was a long time later; or perhaps minutes later, that she became aware of her surroundings, and she was being hustled inside the house by Caterina and up the stairs. Her throat was sore and the collar of her dress and sleeve was torn. Fabiola could hear arguing somewhere behind her, but she couldn't make out the words and only knew for certain that it was Augusto and their father. "She became scared and started screaming! Of course I got her out of there!" her brother was yelling.
"She's always getting scared of everything, and now we had to pay the doctor for all the trouble and she didn't even get the check-up!" That was her father's booming voice, which made her flinch. "You should have calmed her bout of hysteria instead of whisking her away like some damn maiden in distress!"
That was as far as she heard before Caterina lead her into the room. When the woman had changed her dress, she left her alone to try and calm the fight between her brother and father, and once she was gone Fabiola took a good look around her changed room. The bed was unmade and a vague memory came to her that Caterina didn't make it anymore since Fabiola spent so much time in it. Also, in the corner was a piece of cloth on the floor to protect it, and on top was a canvas along with a palette where her brother worked. She required his presence in order to abate the fear. In another corner was a cot with a pillow and blanket where Caterina now slept, because Fabiola constantly had nightmares and had to be there to calm her down. As she saw all this, she could only come to the conclusion; she was nothing but a burden to the people she loved.
The next decision she didn't even remember making, and she was outside walking as the afternoon light washed over her. There were people on the road, but she paid them no mind as long as they didn't get too close. However, there was just too much noise for her to be comfortable, and she flinched and cringed away from any loud noises. So, soon she was huddled within an alleyway with her hands over her ears.
Fabiola cowered against the damp, dirty wall as her fingers pressed against her ears, and she felt large, warm hands settle over her own smaller ones. The young woman thought it was her brother which had come to find her; however, when she lifted her tear-stained face she was met with fierce black eyes peering out from under a helmet. Fabiola's light brown eyes widened in horror at realizing that she recognized his features; it was Ottavio.
A terror greater than even when she was raped gripped her as she stared up at her tormentor, because now she wasn't the only one he would hurt. Her mind was on the life that was growing inside of her, and how injuring Fabiola would put her child in danger. So, when Ottavio's hands moved from on top of hers, she scrambled away from him, but there was nowhere to go in this dead-end alley. If she wasn't pregnant she would have tried her luck in scaling the walls if necessary. So, she was left cowering from him in the corner as he removed his helmet and straightened.
Ottavio advanced on her like a predator about to devour its prey, and her arms wrapped protectively over her stomach. As she did his gaze followed her movement, and she witnessed impossibly as his eyes softened as they landed on her swollen belly. He kneeled on the ground before her and as he reached for her, she opened her mouth to scream. His hand was suddenly forcing her to swallow the sound and at the same time push her more firmly into the corner. Fabiola flailed against him as Ottavio loomed over her smaller frame, but he was unmovable as he leaned down to rest his forehead against hers. His ebony orbs pierced hers and tears gathered in her caramel-colored eyes when she felt his free hand slide over her stomach.
"This is my son," he growled possessively. The fingers of his right hand had been clamped firmly over her mouth and almost around her whole jaw, and now loosened. "Don't scream or I'll hurt you," he warned before finally releasing her, but the hand on her belly stayed where it was. Fabiola tried to squirm away, but his right hand found purchase at the back of her neck and jerked her forward.
His mouth smashing down over hers caused her disgust and felt her stomach heave in revulsion, and started to fight to push him away. Ottavio's tongue pressed against her clamped lips, but she refused to open her mouth and give into him. As if he expected this, his hand tightened threatening over her stomach, and when she gasped in shock his tongue plunged inside.
By that point her grunts of protest had morphed into full-out sobbing as she fought as best as she could. His mouth moved away from hers and started to kiss at her throat, sucking at her pulse point. Fabiola's wept harder when the hand at her stomach slid under her skirts, and when his fingers brushed at that spot between her legs she couldn't hold in her scream any longer. His teeth bit down harshly at her neck as Fabiola's scream cut off into a whimper of pain.
It was as she was giving up hope of escaping that she suddenly felt his weight leave her, and she was left panting against the wall. Fabiola slowly opened her eyes to see a broad shouldered man standing between her and a downed Ottavio. The man wore the armor of a Roma guard, but was clearly the rank of Captain.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, soldier?" he demanded angrily. She couldn't see the man's face, but the sharpness of his voice made Fabiola tremble.
Ottavio's helmet had been knocked aside, but the man didn't make a move to recover it as he angrily got to his feet. He cast a trembling Fabiola one last look before running out of the alleyway. Only when he had gone was the young woman truly able to breathe easier, or at least until her savior turned to look at her. She flinched when he took a step toward her and he immediately stilled. "It's alright," he reassured, and he sounded so alike to her brother that she started to cry once again. "Do not cry, piccola. You're safe now."
"Augusto," she sobbed. She wished her brother was here with her, and she wondered why she'd been foolish enough to run away. It was only with Augusto and Caterina that she felt truly safe, and now she was here in this dirty alleyway having to be saved by a stranger that she wasn't sure she could trust.
Fabiola didn't realize he'd moved until he knelt beside her and she shrunk away from him with a distressed sound. "I'm not going to hurt you, ragazza carina," he promised. "Just let me..." His hand moved very slowly to the skirts of her dress which were bunched at her waist, but he only managed to bring down two of the bottom skirts before she protested so he had to pull away. Fabiola was staring at him with wide frightened eyes, and the Captain was mesmerized by their honey hue.
Although, the young Captain wanted to castrate the soldier that was obviously trying to rape her, he could see the attraction, since the young woman was stunning even with her disheveled hair falling in her tear-stained face. Also, there was something almost familiar about her, but couldn't quite figure out what. However, he quickly smiled reassuringly at her when she looked warily up at him. "I'm Matteo. What's your name, cuore dolce?" He wanted to reach out and help her, but knew that she wouldn't like to be touched.
Fabiola watched her savior suspiciously as he tried to get near her slowly and she contemplated running away from him, but there was nowhere for her to go. There was a building at her back and he was blocking her only escape route. She could try pushing him down, but she doubted she had the strength to knock him over. "Can you stand up?" he asked, holding out his hand. She felt she had no choice as she accepted his hand even as fear coiled in her gut.
When the girl was finally on her feet, she was able to meet his blue-green eyes that were peering at her from under his Captain's helmet. Suddenly, Fabiola knew who he was as she watched him, and tried to open her mouth again to say something but nothing would come out. He was that soldier that had helped her once when she was being tormented by Ginevra and the rest of her brother's friends.
As she stood Matteo noticed her swollen belly, which the rest of her skirts had hidden from view and could only stare at it for a moment. "You're with child?" His face twisted in anger at realizing that bastard had tried to rape a pregnant woman. "And that figlio di puttana tried to rape you?" She shrank away from his angry face, but the hold on her hand was tenacious. "Who was this man? Did you know him?"
She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came tumbling out was the pain. Matteo jerked away as she started screaming and hastily released her hand lest someone think he was the one that had tried to hurt her. He heard a shout a moment before he was tackled away from her, landing on the ground with a grunt of pain. "Figlio di puttana!" the same voice cursed at him as a fist connected with his head, since his helmet had flown off when he was tackled.
"Get off me, stronzo," he growled as they rolled on the filthy ground. Finally, he was able to shove him off, and Matteo swept the youth's feet from under him so he could straighten first. Matteo drew his sword to which he placed at the boy's throat from where he kneeled at the soldier's feet, and he saw that he couldn't be more than sixteen or seventeen. "Did your parents teach you to attack armed guards, ragazzo?"
The young man scowled angrily up at him. "My father taught me to protect my sister from animals like you," he snarled. He withdrew a dagger to knock the sword away so he could lunge at him, but the Captain anticipated it as he kicked him down by sharply planting a booted foot to his shoulder and slashed at his face. The boy yelped as the tip of his sword managed to cut across his left eyebrow.
Matteo stumbled to the side as he was suddenly shoved, and the young woman was suddenly at the boy's side. "Augusto," she whimpered, wrapping her arms around him even as 'Augusto' tried to push her back.
The Captain sighed as he sheathed his sword much to Augusto's confusion. "So, this is the Augusto you were crying for; your brother." The youth had obviously thought Matteo was hurting his sister. "I may be many things, but a rapist is not one of them, ragazzo," he directed at Augusto. "When I came upon your sister, she was being attacked by a low-ranking soldier." He saw him open his mouth, but Matteo shook his head. "I do not know who he was, since he was not under my command. He was about my height, and a year or two older than you both. Also, he had a scar here," Matteo demonstrated by running a finger from his left temple, and down to his jaw. "It was a bit dim in the alley, but I'm sure he had black hair and eyes." He saw Augusto's eyes widen in shock before his face drained of color so he became pale. "What's the matter? Do you know who that is?"
Augusto ignored the Captain and turned to Fabiola, which had sat down on the ground beside him while she fussed with the cut as she tried to stop the bleeding. He lifted her face so he could meet her gaze, and was relieved when her eyes focused immediately on him. "Fabiola," she hesitated a moment before surging through. "Is the one that hurt you...was it Ottavio?" The stiffening of her body was all the answer he needed. "Why didn't you tell me?" She could only look at him mournfully, her caramel eyes filling with tears. Fabiola's mouth opened and closed, but only a half-choked sob escaped her.
"Please don't do this," he pleaded with her. "Say something to me!" Augusto felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to glare at Matteo for daring to interrupt this moment with his sister.
"Peace," he stated, removing his hand at seeing his angry look. "Just give her time, and she'll eventually speak. Be patient with her." Augusto was agog of how alike his words were to the doctor's helper, and the words she had said after Fabiola was raped. Now, Augusto took a deep breath and clamed himself. He truly didn't want to pressure her into speaking until she was ready, but he was desperate to protect her from Ottavio if he's the one that had raped his sister. However, he knew of another way to get information, but first he needed to get Fabiola home.
"Thank you for your aid, but I must get Fabiola home." He helped her to stand, and then slowly walked her to the cart while the Captain watched them leave. As he saw them leaving, her long ebony hair swished behind her as it curled slightly at the ends, and the afternoon sunlight glinted off the strands. It was in that moment that realization struck him like lightning, and he knew who she was then. He snatched up his helmet and hurried after them, so when they got to the cart, Matteo was there to assist him.
Augusto clenched his teeth in irritation, but didn't say anything because Fabiola didn't seem to be afraid of him. This cemented what Matteo had said that he had saved her from being raped. Although, the thing he couldn't understand was why his supposed friend had done this to Fabiola. Even so, he would get answers, and then he would kill Ottavio with his bare hands.
After settling his sister on top of the quilt he had draped over the hay, he turned to thank the Captain, and paused at noticing him sitting up on the driver's seat and a horse tied at the end of the cart. "What are you doing?" he demanded angrily, glancing warily as the stallion snorted at him in agitation.
Matteo smiled grimly at him. "This man, Ottavio, is a low-ranked soldier, but he could still have the support of his comrades to help him take Fabiola from you." Augusto's hands clenched at his side at how familiar he was being with his sister. Although, he had protected her from Ottavio, but that didn't mean he trusted him. Even so, his words made sense, and if only for that reason, it was good that he was accompanying them; no matter what his reasons were. Augusto wondered how he was going to explain his presence to their father, even when he was angry with him at the moment.
After Caterina had broken up their arguing, she had gone upstairs, and the young man had contemplated going into his studio to work on a painting when he was interrupted by a scream from upstairs. He'd taken the stairs two at a time and hurried the last door at the end of the hall, which was Fabiola's room. When he didn't see her in the room, there was no need for Caterina to tell him what had happened.
The disturbed girl would never have gone outside unless something drastic happened. So, the only conclusion he could come up with was that she had been lucid when their father had said those words in anger. Obviously, Augusto knew he hadn't meant them and was only frustrated, but that still hadn't stopped him from driving his fist into his jaw.
Augusto climbed up beside Matteo with a leery stare. "What's your name?" he asked, taking up the reigns and urging the horse into a steady trot. He was hesitant to let this man know where they lived, but finally decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
The Captain held out a hand, bare of gloves or the gauntlets other guards wore as part of their uniforms. "I'm Matteo da Vigo, and you are Augusto." It wasn't a question, so Augusto didn't bother to give an answer as he shook his hand. He turned his eyes back to the road, since he didn't want to trample a pedestrian. "So, what is it you do, Messere Augusto?" he asked out of the blue. Augusto turned to give him a baleful stare. "You have a smear of a white substance under your nails, so I was curious."
The youth frowned and glanced at the nails of his right hand after a moment of hesitation, and sure enough there was white paint from the other day. Augusto had been captivated by his sister as she had stared forlornly out the window, and he had an urge to paint her. After sketching and capturing the heart breaking sadness on her face, it had grown from there with the thought of Pagan lore. That's how Fabiola's image had become Persephone as she stared sorrowfully toward Olympus from her imprisonment in the underworld. For Augusto, Fabiola was Persephone and she was lost to him; within her own mind. However, he wouldn't lose hope because he was sure that one day she would come back to him. He had failed to protect her once, but he wouldn't let anyone else harm her. "I'm a painter."
Matteo smirked, and Augusto felt his hackles rise defensively. "Tell me, painter, do you have the ability to protect your sister?" The adolescent hissed at him, but Matteo couldn't be bothered to be worried. "If not, then I could teach you a few things." That's when Matteo finally broke the steady eye contact they had going to glance back at Fabiola, who was huddled in the corner of the cart right behind Augusto. "Perhaps teach your sister how to defend herself as well."
"No," Augusto immediately snapped. Her mind was already fragile as it was, and didn't want to make things worse. "She has me to protect her."
This time Matteo's smirk wasn't playful or lazy, but sharp, taunting, and almost cruel. "You're not omniscient, painter. There may come a day when you won't be there, and the wolves will be ready to pounce and tear at her tender flesh." Matteo's grin was feral, and for a moment thought he was one of those wolves he was talking about. Then his expression softened as he turned back to look at Fabiola once more. The man seemed to have trouble keeping his eyes off his sister, and that had Augusto on edge.
"What do you want with Fabiola?" he demanded. By that point the conversation had taken his entire attention, so he was unable to continue forward, and lead the horse off the main road before coming to a complete stop. "Why do you help us; help her?"
Matteo's gaze snapped back to him, blue-green eyes narrowing for a moment in contemplation on his face. "I know your sister," he told him easily. "When I was a low-rank soldier, my patrol came across several kids beating up on a girl about the same age. The others gave chase to the little criminals, and I was instructed to check the girl for injuries." He smiled fondly at the memory even as Augusto was filled with dread. "Her hair was the blackest ebony I had ever seen, but its beauty was marred by the hay and dirt that clung to the strands."
'What happened, Fabiola? Why is there hay and dirt on your clothes and hair? Where is the food?'
'I-I am sorry, papa. There was...I mean, I tripped and dropped the food.'
'You stupid, clumsy girl!'
Augusto raised a shaking hand to his mouth as his stomach roiled in nausea, and Matteo continued to speak of his encounter without noticing the youth's realization. "It was falling into her dirty face, but through the matted hair I could make out honey-colored eyes and cherubic features." Matteo chuckled as he turned away with a hand covering his mouth to cover embarrassment.
"She couldn't have been more than thirteen at the time, while I was seventeen, but I may have fallen in love at first sight." He sighed as he continued to look away, having leaned back with his left arm draped behind Augusto's back, and the other dangling over the edge. "Then she ran off with her half-empty basket, and I never saw her again; until today." Matteo grinned, but there was nothing of the ferocious intensity of before and Augusto might dare to say there was mischief in his eyes. Although, Augusto wouldn't forget that he could still exude danger, and thus be a threat. "So, now I'm just ensuring that I don't lose sight of her again."
The youth was torn as he battled the instinctive part of himself that wanted to get this man far away from his sister, and the sensible side that knew Matteo had the ability to show him how to defend himself and Fabiola. The more important part being, that he could teach Fabiola how to protect herself. In the end, the latter won, but the former would not be silenced. "I will accept the offer to teach us the skills you possess; however, I will cut your throat if you hurt my sister."
Matteo's lips lifted into that alarming grin again, which was all teeth and none of the gentleness he had observed before while regarding his sister. "I can respect that, but let me say this. I'm attracted to Fabiola, and no amount of empty threats will change that. So, tell me again when you can defeat me in combat. Until then, I reserve the right to ask her father permission to court her."
Augusto resisted the urge to go for his dagger and lunge at him, since he knew as he was now he wouldn't be able to even scratch Matteo. As Augusto seethed in anger, Matteo's eyes slid to where his hands were clenched. "Do not fret though, for I would never harm Fabiola." He jerked his head toward the front. "So, if this conversation is done with, let's keep moving."
The younger male snatched up the reigns and then urged the horse back onto the main road once more. Augusto wasn't happy with this turn of events, but would allow it for the moment. He would learn everything Matteo had to teach him, and then he would make good on his threat.
"The father of the child she's carrying," Matteo suddenly spoke, interrupting his thoughts. Augusto glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, trying to pay attention to the road in front of him. "It's Ottavio, isn't it?" The white knuckled grip on the reigns said more than words ever could, so Matteo simply nodded. "I understand that you have more right than I, but if I encounter him first, I'm the one that shall kill him."
Augusto turned to fully face him, and a wicked grin lifted his lips. "We will see who gets to kill the figlio di puttana."
Part II.
Author: name_me_regret
AN: This chapter was so long that I had to cut it in half. I still haven’t finished on it, which means I’m still writing. The next one might not be as long, but there was no good place to cut it before where I cut it now. Oh well.
Chapter Fifteen: Augusto's Persephone
March, 1499
Augusto paused at the door and hesitated before finally knocking, and all he heard was only a shuffling sound. He had known there wouldn't be an answer; however, he preferred to announce his presence before entering. He tried the latch and pushed it open, and as he did, Augusto saw her at the window while one hand moved absently over her stomach. It had been almost five months since she'd been attacked in the stable, and during that time she had hardly spoken and would only eat when coaxed to do so.
Fabiola had started to get sick, and they'd taken her to see a doctor. He had diagnosed what they had feared, which is that Fabiola was pregnant by her attacker. "Mio dio, no," she had whimpered, and then spoke no more. She had retreated into herself and at times she didn't seem to see even him. Augusto despaired at seeing her in such a state and being helpless on how to bring her out of the perpetual haze she was lost in. He knew she was still in there somewhere, since she had silently defended him one day.
Their father hadn't understood why the metalwork he did was coming out like a novice's failed attempt. Eventually, he had to stop pretending that it was grief over his sister's attack that made the swords and daggers come out poorly made. Augusto told him that it was Fabiola who had crafted every work of art that was sold and in high demand at the market, and he was the one that painted in his sister's place.
The man had beaten him until he was near unconsciousness. When he couldn't see out of one eye, or speak without slurring his words his father had suddenly stopped. It had taken him a moment to realize the door to Augusto's studio had opened and when he glanced over it was to see Fabiola. She was only wearing her night dress, but she didn't even seem to realize it as she walked over to her fallen brother's side and wrapped her arms around him like a mother protecting her child. She had stared up at her father with her big, light brown eyes, and his father's resolve had crumpled. While his father was being overcome with her doe eyes, Augusto could feel the swell of her belly against his chest where life was growing. He had sworn then that he would protect her and that child with everything he had.
Augusto approached her and took her by the hand to lead her to her bed, and while he set the tray he was balancing on the nightstand, he helped her slip under the covers. He brought the tray over then, sitting on the chair that had an almost permanent position next to the bed. Augusto placed the tray with breakfast on her lap and gently coaxed her to eat by herself. The young man was overjoyed when she finally lifted the spoon to bring the soup to her mouth, and quickly lifted the napkin to clean her when she didn't notice that some broth dribbled down her chin. As she continued to eat herself, there was loud knocking at the door, making Fabiola flinch. Augusto cursed under his breath when she dropped the spoon with a clatter as her hands started shaking.
"Who is it?" he demanded, knowing it wasn't either his father or Caterina, because they knew not to knock so hard as to startle Fabiola. He carded his fingers through the strands of her light brown hair to calm her down, but it didn't seem to be working as he heard the door open behind him. Augusto turned a glare on the figure standing there, and the fact that it was Ginevra made no difference to him as she paused uncertainly in the doorway. "What are you doing up here?"
He never let anyone come up the stairs and neither did their father, so that meant she had snuck up here looking for him after his father had most likely left her with instructions to wait in the studio. "Your father-"
"Would have left you in the studio, and never allowed you to come up here," he said, cutting off whatever she would have said otherwise. Augusto turned his back on her to whisper a soothing word to Fabiola, but her labored breathing continued as her heartbeat hitched into a frenzied pace. If the young man were paying more attention, he'd have seen Fabiola's eyes fixed over his shoulder as she stared at Ginevra, who glared darkly at her while Augusto fawned over his twin sister.
The shorter girl had truly believed that having Ottavio take her virtue would make Augusto see the filth of her sin. However, it hadn't worked out as she had planned, since the stupid horse had completely shut down so Augusto had come looking for her. Now he knew she'd been raped, and thus her plan had failed. Ginevra wanted to make it seem as if Fabiola had been a willing participant; a puttana. Then to top it all off, she had gotten pregnant and it presented a problem.
Ottavio had found out she was with child and shocked them all by stating that he wanted to marry the giant! Granted, by that point Ottavio was an inch over six feet, but Fabiola was still taller than Ginevra! Besides, she had always thought the dark-haired young man fancied her, and the only reason he'd volunteered to rape Fabiola was to please Ginevra. So, her hatred for Fabiola was growing more every time she came over and Augusto was too busy to see her, or Ottavio asked her about Fabiola's and the baby's health.
Ginevra stormed out of the room, slamming the door as Fabiola cringed and tried to curl into a ball under the covers. "It's alright," Augusto murmured as he gently caressed her face. "It's just you and I, and I won't let anyone else hurt you."
He grinned as her eyes focused on him after what seemed to be months of her staring into space. Although, the smile slid off his face as she opened her mouth to speak after so much silence on her part. "He'll come for me again, and you won't be able to see him." Her eyes pierced the depths of his soul as a melancholy smile curled her lips.
"What do you mean? Do you know who attacked you, Fabiola?" He despaired at seeing her caramel eyes start to glaze over again, and knew that she had become lost to him once more. "No, please don't do this again. Talk to me! Tell me who hurt you," he pleaded desperately as he gave her shoulders a slight shake. She made a distressed sound and shrunk away from him, and Augusto immediately regretted his actions. "I'm sorry, cuore dolce," he whispered, forgetting that she hated being called sweetheart. However, his familiar voice seemed to give her comfort and leaned forward to rest against him. Augusto wrapped his arms around her in an embrace and started to hum the lullaby their mother had sung to them as children. The whole time he was singing to her and until she fell asleep, her words continued to haunt him.
'...you won't be able to see him.'
~o~
At the window is where Augusto would sit her every morning when she woke up, and there she stayed until the day turned to afternoon. She could see the road from there and people moving along; living their lives. In the morning, at high noon, and then just before sundown her brother would bring her a tray of food, and at times he'd encourage to eat on her own. Fabiola didn't want to eat or even think of food, but his face; that face she loved so much, would get so sad, so she ate what he brought her. She always tried to refrain from doing things that upset him, so she never spoke.
Fabiola had tried speaking once, but her words had distressed him so that she had shoved them down so deep inside herself. However, when she did that, pushing down all the hate, fear, and pain, she got a little lost. Then she wondered if it was better like that, and she'd allow herself to drift just on the edge of consciousness. She was vaguely aware of things happening outside her own world, but mostly they weren't enough to ground her to reality. And as she drifted loud noises startled her so badly, and reminded her of her attack.
However, today was a different day though, and she was aware enough to realize that Caterina was dressing her in street clothes. She hadn't worn a dress in a long time, and her old ones wouldn't fit her anymore, so that means someone had bought these for her. Fabiola didn't linger on this thought for more than a few seconds before it slipped away much like sand through her fingers. When she became conscious of her surroundings again, it was to realize that she was riding in the back of their cart. The hay had been covered by a quilt, and she was curled against Caterina's side in the same manner she use to do when she was a child.
When she dared lift her head, her eyes moved to observe the world around her and which for a long time she had only seen through the window of her room. It was only Augusto and the maid whose presence and touch she didn't instinctively shy away from, and on occasion her father. The only reason being was that he had a booming voice, and at times he didn't always control it.
"It's alright, tesoro," the older woman muttered as Augusto glanced back at them from the driver's seat. "We need to have the doctor give you a check-up, and to see if the baby is doing fine." Her warm hand settled over her distended belly, and Fabiola calmed as she sank back against Caterina's warm, soft body.
She was watching the clouds as her thoughts wandered, and she didn't know that they had arrived as her brother got off to help Caterina first and then her. Fabiola felt a sensation of pins and needles all over her body, and clutched at her brother's hand. "You're alright," he reassured her, and she trusted him completely so she followed him inside the building. The white beak-like mask sent a chill through her, but her brother's large hand covered her own, so she was fine.
When he tried to pull away, she held on tighter so he wouldn't let go, and when he tried to pry her fingers off did she finally turn to look right at him. Augusto was red in the face, and Fabiola's head tilted curiously at such a display. "Fabiola, I can't be here with you while the doctor checks you over." When she merely stared at him he turned even redder. "Caterina can stay with you," he stressed. Fabiola blinked before turning away from him, but finally released his hand. He may have sighed, but she was lost within her mind once more so she wasn't sure of too much right at that moment. The thing that did register as starkly as a light in the darkness was the unfamiliar hands that started to remove her clothes, and she stiffened.
'Now, you're finally going to be mine.'
Her mind transported her back to that time and she remembered the feel of Ottavio's large hands on her, and she was screaming all of a sudden. Fabiola was vaguely aware of Augusto and Caterina's voices as they tried to calm her down. Fabiola's mind couldn't process what they were saying, and all she knew was the fear.
It was a long time later; or perhaps minutes later, that she became aware of her surroundings, and she was being hustled inside the house by Caterina and up the stairs. Her throat was sore and the collar of her dress and sleeve was torn. Fabiola could hear arguing somewhere behind her, but she couldn't make out the words and only knew for certain that it was Augusto and their father. "She became scared and started screaming! Of course I got her out of there!" her brother was yelling.
"She's always getting scared of everything, and now we had to pay the doctor for all the trouble and she didn't even get the check-up!" That was her father's booming voice, which made her flinch. "You should have calmed her bout of hysteria instead of whisking her away like some damn maiden in distress!"
That was as far as she heard before Caterina lead her into the room. When the woman had changed her dress, she left her alone to try and calm the fight between her brother and father, and once she was gone Fabiola took a good look around her changed room. The bed was unmade and a vague memory came to her that Caterina didn't make it anymore since Fabiola spent so much time in it. Also, in the corner was a piece of cloth on the floor to protect it, and on top was a canvas along with a palette where her brother worked. She required his presence in order to abate the fear. In another corner was a cot with a pillow and blanket where Caterina now slept, because Fabiola constantly had nightmares and had to be there to calm her down. As she saw all this, she could only come to the conclusion; she was nothing but a burden to the people she loved.
The next decision she didn't even remember making, and she was outside walking as the afternoon light washed over her. There were people on the road, but she paid them no mind as long as they didn't get too close. However, there was just too much noise for her to be comfortable, and she flinched and cringed away from any loud noises. So, soon she was huddled within an alleyway with her hands over her ears.
Fabiola cowered against the damp, dirty wall as her fingers pressed against her ears, and she felt large, warm hands settle over her own smaller ones. The young woman thought it was her brother which had come to find her; however, when she lifted her tear-stained face she was met with fierce black eyes peering out from under a helmet. Fabiola's light brown eyes widened in horror at realizing that she recognized his features; it was Ottavio.
A terror greater than even when she was raped gripped her as she stared up at her tormentor, because now she wasn't the only one he would hurt. Her mind was on the life that was growing inside of her, and how injuring Fabiola would put her child in danger. So, when Ottavio's hands moved from on top of hers, she scrambled away from him, but there was nowhere to go in this dead-end alley. If she wasn't pregnant she would have tried her luck in scaling the walls if necessary. So, she was left cowering from him in the corner as he removed his helmet and straightened.
Ottavio advanced on her like a predator about to devour its prey, and her arms wrapped protectively over her stomach. As she did his gaze followed her movement, and she witnessed impossibly as his eyes softened as they landed on her swollen belly. He kneeled on the ground before her and as he reached for her, she opened her mouth to scream. His hand was suddenly forcing her to swallow the sound and at the same time push her more firmly into the corner. Fabiola flailed against him as Ottavio loomed over her smaller frame, but he was unmovable as he leaned down to rest his forehead against hers. His ebony orbs pierced hers and tears gathered in her caramel-colored eyes when she felt his free hand slide over her stomach.
"This is my son," he growled possessively. The fingers of his right hand had been clamped firmly over her mouth and almost around her whole jaw, and now loosened. "Don't scream or I'll hurt you," he warned before finally releasing her, but the hand on her belly stayed where it was. Fabiola tried to squirm away, but his right hand found purchase at the back of her neck and jerked her forward.
His mouth smashing down over hers caused her disgust and felt her stomach heave in revulsion, and started to fight to push him away. Ottavio's tongue pressed against her clamped lips, but she refused to open her mouth and give into him. As if he expected this, his hand tightened threatening over her stomach, and when she gasped in shock his tongue plunged inside.
By that point her grunts of protest had morphed into full-out sobbing as she fought as best as she could. His mouth moved away from hers and started to kiss at her throat, sucking at her pulse point. Fabiola's wept harder when the hand at her stomach slid under her skirts, and when his fingers brushed at that spot between her legs she couldn't hold in her scream any longer. His teeth bit down harshly at her neck as Fabiola's scream cut off into a whimper of pain.
It was as she was giving up hope of escaping that she suddenly felt his weight leave her, and she was left panting against the wall. Fabiola slowly opened her eyes to see a broad shouldered man standing between her and a downed Ottavio. The man wore the armor of a Roma guard, but was clearly the rank of Captain.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, soldier?" he demanded angrily. She couldn't see the man's face, but the sharpness of his voice made Fabiola tremble.
Ottavio's helmet had been knocked aside, but the man didn't make a move to recover it as he angrily got to his feet. He cast a trembling Fabiola one last look before running out of the alleyway. Only when he had gone was the young woman truly able to breathe easier, or at least until her savior turned to look at her. She flinched when he took a step toward her and he immediately stilled. "It's alright," he reassured, and he sounded so alike to her brother that she started to cry once again. "Do not cry, piccola. You're safe now."
"Augusto," she sobbed. She wished her brother was here with her, and she wondered why she'd been foolish enough to run away. It was only with Augusto and Caterina that she felt truly safe, and now she was here in this dirty alleyway having to be saved by a stranger that she wasn't sure she could trust.
Fabiola didn't realize he'd moved until he knelt beside her and she shrunk away from him with a distressed sound. "I'm not going to hurt you, ragazza carina," he promised. "Just let me..." His hand moved very slowly to the skirts of her dress which were bunched at her waist, but he only managed to bring down two of the bottom skirts before she protested so he had to pull away. Fabiola was staring at him with wide frightened eyes, and the Captain was mesmerized by their honey hue.
Although, the young Captain wanted to castrate the soldier that was obviously trying to rape her, he could see the attraction, since the young woman was stunning even with her disheveled hair falling in her tear-stained face. Also, there was something almost familiar about her, but couldn't quite figure out what. However, he quickly smiled reassuringly at her when she looked warily up at him. "I'm Matteo. What's your name, cuore dolce?" He wanted to reach out and help her, but knew that she wouldn't like to be touched.
Fabiola watched her savior suspiciously as he tried to get near her slowly and she contemplated running away from him, but there was nowhere for her to go. There was a building at her back and he was blocking her only escape route. She could try pushing him down, but she doubted she had the strength to knock him over. "Can you stand up?" he asked, holding out his hand. She felt she had no choice as she accepted his hand even as fear coiled in her gut.
When the girl was finally on her feet, she was able to meet his blue-green eyes that were peering at her from under his Captain's helmet. Suddenly, Fabiola knew who he was as she watched him, and tried to open her mouth again to say something but nothing would come out. He was that soldier that had helped her once when she was being tormented by Ginevra and the rest of her brother's friends.
As she stood Matteo noticed her swollen belly, which the rest of her skirts had hidden from view and could only stare at it for a moment. "You're with child?" His face twisted in anger at realizing that bastard had tried to rape a pregnant woman. "And that figlio di puttana tried to rape you?" She shrank away from his angry face, but the hold on her hand was tenacious. "Who was this man? Did you know him?"
She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came tumbling out was the pain. Matteo jerked away as she started screaming and hastily released her hand lest someone think he was the one that had tried to hurt her. He heard a shout a moment before he was tackled away from her, landing on the ground with a grunt of pain. "Figlio di puttana!" the same voice cursed at him as a fist connected with his head, since his helmet had flown off when he was tackled.
"Get off me, stronzo," he growled as they rolled on the filthy ground. Finally, he was able to shove him off, and Matteo swept the youth's feet from under him so he could straighten first. Matteo drew his sword to which he placed at the boy's throat from where he kneeled at the soldier's feet, and he saw that he couldn't be more than sixteen or seventeen. "Did your parents teach you to attack armed guards, ragazzo?"
The young man scowled angrily up at him. "My father taught me to protect my sister from animals like you," he snarled. He withdrew a dagger to knock the sword away so he could lunge at him, but the Captain anticipated it as he kicked him down by sharply planting a booted foot to his shoulder and slashed at his face. The boy yelped as the tip of his sword managed to cut across his left eyebrow.
Matteo stumbled to the side as he was suddenly shoved, and the young woman was suddenly at the boy's side. "Augusto," she whimpered, wrapping her arms around him even as 'Augusto' tried to push her back.
The Captain sighed as he sheathed his sword much to Augusto's confusion. "So, this is the Augusto you were crying for; your brother." The youth had obviously thought Matteo was hurting his sister. "I may be many things, but a rapist is not one of them, ragazzo," he directed at Augusto. "When I came upon your sister, she was being attacked by a low-ranking soldier." He saw him open his mouth, but Matteo shook his head. "I do not know who he was, since he was not under my command. He was about my height, and a year or two older than you both. Also, he had a scar here," Matteo demonstrated by running a finger from his left temple, and down to his jaw. "It was a bit dim in the alley, but I'm sure he had black hair and eyes." He saw Augusto's eyes widen in shock before his face drained of color so he became pale. "What's the matter? Do you know who that is?"
Augusto ignored the Captain and turned to Fabiola, which had sat down on the ground beside him while she fussed with the cut as she tried to stop the bleeding. He lifted her face so he could meet her gaze, and was relieved when her eyes focused immediately on him. "Fabiola," she hesitated a moment before surging through. "Is the one that hurt you...was it Ottavio?" The stiffening of her body was all the answer he needed. "Why didn't you tell me?" She could only look at him mournfully, her caramel eyes filling with tears. Fabiola's mouth opened and closed, but only a half-choked sob escaped her.
"Please don't do this," he pleaded with her. "Say something to me!" Augusto felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to glare at Matteo for daring to interrupt this moment with his sister.
"Peace," he stated, removing his hand at seeing his angry look. "Just give her time, and she'll eventually speak. Be patient with her." Augusto was agog of how alike his words were to the doctor's helper, and the words she had said after Fabiola was raped. Now, Augusto took a deep breath and clamed himself. He truly didn't want to pressure her into speaking until she was ready, but he was desperate to protect her from Ottavio if he's the one that had raped his sister. However, he knew of another way to get information, but first he needed to get Fabiola home.
"Thank you for your aid, but I must get Fabiola home." He helped her to stand, and then slowly walked her to the cart while the Captain watched them leave. As he saw them leaving, her long ebony hair swished behind her as it curled slightly at the ends, and the afternoon sunlight glinted off the strands. It was in that moment that realization struck him like lightning, and he knew who she was then. He snatched up his helmet and hurried after them, so when they got to the cart, Matteo was there to assist him.
Augusto clenched his teeth in irritation, but didn't say anything because Fabiola didn't seem to be afraid of him. This cemented what Matteo had said that he had saved her from being raped. Although, the thing he couldn't understand was why his supposed friend had done this to Fabiola. Even so, he would get answers, and then he would kill Ottavio with his bare hands.
After settling his sister on top of the quilt he had draped over the hay, he turned to thank the Captain, and paused at noticing him sitting up on the driver's seat and a horse tied at the end of the cart. "What are you doing?" he demanded angrily, glancing warily as the stallion snorted at him in agitation.
Matteo smiled grimly at him. "This man, Ottavio, is a low-ranked soldier, but he could still have the support of his comrades to help him take Fabiola from you." Augusto's hands clenched at his side at how familiar he was being with his sister. Although, he had protected her from Ottavio, but that didn't mean he trusted him. Even so, his words made sense, and if only for that reason, it was good that he was accompanying them; no matter what his reasons were. Augusto wondered how he was going to explain his presence to their father, even when he was angry with him at the moment.
After Caterina had broken up their arguing, she had gone upstairs, and the young man had contemplated going into his studio to work on a painting when he was interrupted by a scream from upstairs. He'd taken the stairs two at a time and hurried the last door at the end of the hall, which was Fabiola's room. When he didn't see her in the room, there was no need for Caterina to tell him what had happened.
The disturbed girl would never have gone outside unless something drastic happened. So, the only conclusion he could come up with was that she had been lucid when their father had said those words in anger. Obviously, Augusto knew he hadn't meant them and was only frustrated, but that still hadn't stopped him from driving his fist into his jaw.
Augusto climbed up beside Matteo with a leery stare. "What's your name?" he asked, taking up the reigns and urging the horse into a steady trot. He was hesitant to let this man know where they lived, but finally decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
The Captain held out a hand, bare of gloves or the gauntlets other guards wore as part of their uniforms. "I'm Matteo da Vigo, and you are Augusto." It wasn't a question, so Augusto didn't bother to give an answer as he shook his hand. He turned his eyes back to the road, since he didn't want to trample a pedestrian. "So, what is it you do, Messere Augusto?" he asked out of the blue. Augusto turned to give him a baleful stare. "You have a smear of a white substance under your nails, so I was curious."
The youth frowned and glanced at the nails of his right hand after a moment of hesitation, and sure enough there was white paint from the other day. Augusto had been captivated by his sister as she had stared forlornly out the window, and he had an urge to paint her. After sketching and capturing the heart breaking sadness on her face, it had grown from there with the thought of Pagan lore. That's how Fabiola's image had become Persephone as she stared sorrowfully toward Olympus from her imprisonment in the underworld. For Augusto, Fabiola was Persephone and she was lost to him; within her own mind. However, he wouldn't lose hope because he was sure that one day she would come back to him. He had failed to protect her once, but he wouldn't let anyone else harm her. "I'm a painter."
Matteo smirked, and Augusto felt his hackles rise defensively. "Tell me, painter, do you have the ability to protect your sister?" The adolescent hissed at him, but Matteo couldn't be bothered to be worried. "If not, then I could teach you a few things." That's when Matteo finally broke the steady eye contact they had going to glance back at Fabiola, who was huddled in the corner of the cart right behind Augusto. "Perhaps teach your sister how to defend herself as well."
"No," Augusto immediately snapped. Her mind was already fragile as it was, and didn't want to make things worse. "She has me to protect her."
This time Matteo's smirk wasn't playful or lazy, but sharp, taunting, and almost cruel. "You're not omniscient, painter. There may come a day when you won't be there, and the wolves will be ready to pounce and tear at her tender flesh." Matteo's grin was feral, and for a moment thought he was one of those wolves he was talking about. Then his expression softened as he turned back to look at Fabiola once more. The man seemed to have trouble keeping his eyes off his sister, and that had Augusto on edge.
"What do you want with Fabiola?" he demanded. By that point the conversation had taken his entire attention, so he was unable to continue forward, and lead the horse off the main road before coming to a complete stop. "Why do you help us; help her?"
Matteo's gaze snapped back to him, blue-green eyes narrowing for a moment in contemplation on his face. "I know your sister," he told him easily. "When I was a low-rank soldier, my patrol came across several kids beating up on a girl about the same age. The others gave chase to the little criminals, and I was instructed to check the girl for injuries." He smiled fondly at the memory even as Augusto was filled with dread. "Her hair was the blackest ebony I had ever seen, but its beauty was marred by the hay and dirt that clung to the strands."
'What happened, Fabiola? Why is there hay and dirt on your clothes and hair? Where is the food?'
'I-I am sorry, papa. There was...I mean, I tripped and dropped the food.'
'You stupid, clumsy girl!'
Augusto raised a shaking hand to his mouth as his stomach roiled in nausea, and Matteo continued to speak of his encounter without noticing the youth's realization. "It was falling into her dirty face, but through the matted hair I could make out honey-colored eyes and cherubic features." Matteo chuckled as he turned away with a hand covering his mouth to cover embarrassment.
"She couldn't have been more than thirteen at the time, while I was seventeen, but I may have fallen in love at first sight." He sighed as he continued to look away, having leaned back with his left arm draped behind Augusto's back, and the other dangling over the edge. "Then she ran off with her half-empty basket, and I never saw her again; until today." Matteo grinned, but there was nothing of the ferocious intensity of before and Augusto might dare to say there was mischief in his eyes. Although, Augusto wouldn't forget that he could still exude danger, and thus be a threat. "So, now I'm just ensuring that I don't lose sight of her again."
The youth was torn as he battled the instinctive part of himself that wanted to get this man far away from his sister, and the sensible side that knew Matteo had the ability to show him how to defend himself and Fabiola. The more important part being, that he could teach Fabiola how to protect herself. In the end, the latter won, but the former would not be silenced. "I will accept the offer to teach us the skills you possess; however, I will cut your throat if you hurt my sister."
Matteo's lips lifted into that alarming grin again, which was all teeth and none of the gentleness he had observed before while regarding his sister. "I can respect that, but let me say this. I'm attracted to Fabiola, and no amount of empty threats will change that. So, tell me again when you can defeat me in combat. Until then, I reserve the right to ask her father permission to court her."
Augusto resisted the urge to go for his dagger and lunge at him, since he knew as he was now he wouldn't be able to even scratch Matteo. As Augusto seethed in anger, Matteo's eyes slid to where his hands were clenched. "Do not fret though, for I would never harm Fabiola." He jerked his head toward the front. "So, if this conversation is done with, let's keep moving."
The younger male snatched up the reigns and then urged the horse back onto the main road once more. Augusto wasn't happy with this turn of events, but would allow it for the moment. He would learn everything Matteo had to teach him, and then he would make good on his threat.
"The father of the child she's carrying," Matteo suddenly spoke, interrupting his thoughts. Augusto glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, trying to pay attention to the road in front of him. "It's Ottavio, isn't it?" The white knuckled grip on the reigns said more than words ever could, so Matteo simply nodded. "I understand that you have more right than I, but if I encounter him first, I'm the one that shall kill him."
Augusto turned to fully face him, and a wicked grin lifted his lips. "We will see who gets to kill the figlio di puttana."
Part II.