Death under the Tuscan Sun

3
(1)

I lay on my side and looked at the woman in deep slumber.  Both of us were stark naked.  We had made love three times during the night and each time was better than the last. I was no novice to the art of love but this woman simply bewitched me. She had told me that she was in her early thirties but she did not look like it.  Her skin was smooth and shiny like mine. Her breasts were more ample and her eyes, which were now shut, were of such sparkling blue.  Intelligent eyes.  Befitting of a woman of the Medici: Roberta de Medici.  The only thing I could claim advantage over her was my tresses of shiny blonde hair.  Hers was blonde too, but with less brilliance in it.

How did it come about that I fell in love with this woman within such short time?  Or should I say: how did it come about that this magnificent woman, beautiful, rich and intelligent would take me, Aspasia a reckless girl who ran away from her family in Verona to escape marriage, to her bed? Oh, and what heaven she had led me to in her bed. She made me scream with delight; she made me plead for more and she made me purr like a Persian cat!

We met in a masquerade. I was new to the city and she was obviously hunting for a bed-mate.  When our eyes set on each other, we knew we had found what was destined to be ours.  She guided me to her palazzo and before long, she had my mock uniform of a cavalry officer as well as my bodice torn from me and cast onto the marble floor. When I tried to do likewise with her black velvet gown, she stopped my hand, directing them over the smooth fabric over her breasts.  I could feel their substance underneath the fabric and found my palms damp with anticipation.  We kissed and instead of leading me to her chamber, we made love there and then under the gaze of a marble Aphrodite.  The servants were discrete and we were not disturbed. I knew what it meant. They must have experienced such on many occasions.

She allowed me to take the active part during our first copulation.  Then, she took charge of the game and conquered me in her room and taught me things I never dreamed.  Honey was poured over my body, spread even by her tender hands and licked clean by a hungry tongue. She had my wrists tied with silk cords to her bedposts, caressed every inch of my body and sucked at my maidenhood, driving me to climax until I begged for mercy. She would slide a dagger along my calves and the threat of having them sliced open accentuated the trembling and the excitement that took over my whole body…

When we were not making love, we took walks and flirted.  Or we went for morning rides to the surrounding hills and made love again in some secluded spots. Tuscany was never so beautiful in my eyes: its hills greener, its bird-songs more melodious, even its scorching sun more tender.   In the evening, she read to me and I proudly showed her my powerful memory, repeating whole chapters verbatim.
“You have such a wonderful memory,” Roberta had said, smiling sweetly.
I loved to see her smile, her pearly teeth, the dimple on the right side of her lovely face.
I knew I would remember her for the rest of my life.  I also knew I could not stay here forever.  Now, she was madly in love of me.  But the day would come when I could no longer satisfy her desire.  And I would wisely leave before then so that her love for me would not turn to loath.
I told her that I missed home and my mother. There was sadness in her eyes. But she did not try to dissuade me from leaving.
“Take my brother’s riding clothes. It is more fitting than your torn attire.” She said with a flirting tone.
I put it on. It fit me perfectly.  She buckled the rapier to my side.
“Your horse will be brought to you at the fountain of the town square.” She said.
We kissed and said our farewell.
I slipped out of the side door in the narrow alley and the door was closed behind me.

It was just past midday.  I should have waited till it was cooler but as I wished to reach the Pisa by evening, I decided to brave the scorching sun. The brimmed hat of Antonio de Medici should give me adequate protective shade.

I walked along the narrow alley.  Not a soul was in sight which was not surprising as only the mad or someone on urgent errand would venture out at this heat. I reached the end of the alley and turned the corner.

There was no horse waiting for me at the fountain.  Instead, I found myself facing two men with their rapiers drawn.
“What is this?” I asked.
They did not reply but started to approach me, murder in their eyes.
“Wait! It is a mistake!” I backed off a few steps.  Thoughts raced in my brain.  Was this some hoax? Did she have a husband? A jealous lover?
Then, it stuck me.
I was wearing the clothes of Antonio and had the family insignia on my sleeve!
They must have mistaken me for him.
I was about to protest when one of the men charged at me with his drawn rapier.
There was no time to give explanation.  I whipped out my own rapier and was just in time to block his murderous thrust.  My own brother had taught me how to fence and though I had no chance to test my skill in real battle, I knew I was good.  As soon as I blocked his attack, I made a riposte to his left.  He parried it with ease but that was not my real line of assault. I did a quick cutover with deft finger-play and made a straight thrust at his other arm.  He was taken by surprise and I wounded him there, though not deep enough to really put him out of action. He roared and renewed his attack, making quick cuts and thrusts in three successive movements.  I parried two of them, side-stepped the last one and sank my guard low to make a tilting thrust at his throat.  He jumped back just in time.
“Arthur, what are you waiting for?” He shouted.
The other man, Arthur, rushed at me.
Our blades crossed.  I made two successive circular parries and countered with a direct cut to his face. My blade drew blood but yet again, not deep enough.
“Xavier, the bitch is good.  Let’s take her from both sides.”
“What!?” So, they knew I was not Antonio.  There had been no mistaken identity.
If I were to fight any one of them, I might have a chance.  But the two working together was tipping the scale in their favor.  I parried more and more and counter-attacked less and less.  The man Xavier made a fast one at my left cheek.  I was able to duck it but I lost my brimmed hat to the tip of his weapon and my blonde hair came tumbling down to my shoulders.
“Why do you want to kill me?” I shouted amid my defense, which was getting more and more desperate.
They did not respond but made even more vigorous attacks with their swords. I was driven back again and again. One of Arthur’s slashing assault cut open the front of my riding jacket and the white shirt under it.  I had not put on my bodice and the insides of my breasts were revealed to their eyes.
“Good tits!  Too bad they will be food for worms.” Xavier taunted.
I got furious and lost my control, making a running attack when I should not have done so, and paid the price.  While the man named Xavier was beaten back, Arthur got his chance to close in and buried two inches of his blade into my left flank.
“Argh…”I cried out in pain and jumped back.  If I had delayed split of a second more, he would have me run through.
I noticed my shirt was getting damp with my blood and the sweat.  My parries were getting weaker now.  Sooner or later, they would get me.  I made a quick decision, turned and ran.
The door of Roberta’s villa was around seventy paces away.  I must reach it before they caught up with me.  It was my only salvation.  I dropped my rapier to lighten my burden.  It would not be of any use to me now as I could no longer hold it steadily with the constant loss of blood.
“Roberta! Roberta!” I shouted. “Help me!”
I kept glancing back.  The men were in steady pursuit.
My breathing got hard.  I was struggling to cover the last few yards.
“No! Please! Let me get to the door.  At least, let me see her before I die!” I prayed in my heart.
I reached the door, banged on it and looked in horror at the two men shortening the distance.
The sun was beating down like fire.  My body was on fire!  For the first time in my life, I knew what fear meant.
“Please, Roberta! Open the door!”
The door was pulled open and I saw her standing there. She was so beautiful in the shadow, her eyes sparkling blue…
Then I felt the pain.  I looked down and saw the rapier, its front buried inside my left breast.  I followed the line of the blade, to the hilt, to her hand…
“Roberta…why?”
She did not reply. Her eyes were still beautiful, but a coldness was there.  She pushed the rapier and it sank deeper, deeper.
I closed my eyes and slid onto the pavement.
The last thing I felt was my tears running down my face and the kiss of a merciless sun…

(Epilog)

(Roberta)

I saw her body being dragged away, held by the calves of her long tapered leg ending in those fine leather boots.  They would take them off when they reached the river where her body would be dumped into the running water.  The same would be done to her clothes, down to her shift and drawers.  No one would identify her as Aspasia, daughter of an eminent family of Verona.

I did love her.  She was beautiful, playful, intelligent and possessed such a powerful memory. This was why she got herself killed.  I found the secret letter from the Queen of France to me opened on a side-table, obviously read.  I was not sure it was her who read it.  But I could not afford to take the chance.  She was in a hurry to leave and only dead men, or women, could ensure absolute silence.

Of course, I would investigate and if I found the culprit to be another person, I would personally avenge Aspasia.
I opened my window and looked at the far hills where Aspasia and I had taken morning rides and recalled the pleasure we shared, in and out of bed.  It was so sad but it had to be done.
Then, I closed the window and shut out the oppressive Tuscan sun.

(End)

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