The Master of Verona

What she means, thought Antonia with amusement, is that this is where the ancient Montecchi hid the horses they stole when they were bandits. That was also probably their trap back there. Dante's daughter was far too well-bred to say so aloud. Instead, she peered into the dark. "Have you gone in? How far does it go?"

"I only went in a few paces. I didn't have a light with me then." Opening the satchel she'd brought, Gianozza produced a candle and flint. "This time I thought ahead."

"Does Lord Montecchi know you've been here?"

"No, Mari asked me not to tell anyone. But I didn't want to go in alone."

Antonia rubbed her hands briskly. "Well then, get that candle lit!"

In the still air between the split rock halves, lighting the candle wasn't difficult. Getting Rolando to enter the cave was harder. Antonia bore the light while Gianozza half-dragged the reluctant mastiff into the damp, dark cave under the hill.

"Do you think there are more traps?" asked Antonia.

"Mari said all the old traps had been taken down. I don't think my husband would have sent me here if there was any danger."

The passage was not too tall, barely high enough to accommodate riderless mounts. But it was wide enough, after the opening, to take three horses abreast. The path turned and a few paces in daylight disappeared.

Rolando was unhappy but stayed silent, sniffing at shadows. Slowly the ground leveled off. The earthen roof rose, then suddenly vanished high above. Gianozza let out a gasp. The cavern was enormous, large as a castle courtyard. There were fire pits, and along the earthen walls there were bunk beds, hitching posts for horses, and two long water troughs. Above, roots of trees and plants hung down. Yet the ceiling was so high that had the girls jumped they would have been unable to reach those dangling roots.

"Why did your husband tell you about this place?" Antonia wondered why she was whispering. But Gianozza answered in the same hushed tones.

"He said this was to be our secret place, and that if he knew I was here he could always find me in his dreams."

Porcheria, thought Antonia tartly. Romantic, yes, and sweet. But also crafty. If Mariotto was at all concerned about his bride having eyes for other men — one man in particular — he'd created a ritual that would put him in her mind for a good hour or two every day. Antonia thought with satisfaction that Ferdinando would never be so manipulative or foolish. She suddenly reddened, as she did whenever she thought pleasing things about Ferdinando. She turned her head, wishing the candle would go out to hide her embarrassment.

Her wish came true. A surprising movement of air extinguished the flame. At the same moment Rolando began to growl, and Antonia thought she heard something moving in the cave. "An animal."

"Or a demon," said Gianozza.

Antonia dragged her friend back towards the tunnel. "An animal, like a rabbit or a squirrel." From Rolando's continued growl she wondered if it might not be a bear. This was a fine home for a bear. Or a wolf. "It's probably more scared of us."

Climbing out without light was a disaster. They fell several times, making far too much noise. But by the time they had reached the sunlight their fears were subsiding.

Antonia was the first to start laughing. "You ought to see yourself!"

Gianozza brushed at the front of her skirts. "You don't look any better!"

The danger of the cave now passed, Rolando was bored by the girls. He yawned and licked his chops. Suddenly his ears pricked up. Seconds later he was barking wildly. Tearing the leash from Gianozza's grip, he leapt forward and dashed around the path out of sight. "Rolando! Rolando!"

Chasing after him, they were stopped by a voice. Someone was talking to the hound. Who? How many? In an instant a much more real fear replaced the nameless one of the cave.

"Back up!" hissed Antonia, pulling Gianozza towards the cave's mouth. Why had the dog stopped barking?

A cracking twig. Someone was coming closer. Antonia stooped, feeling around her feet. There was dirt, but no fist-size rocks. With nothing else, she took a handful of soil and hoped she could hit the intruder in the eyes. Gianozza did the same.

A figure emerged around the bend. They let their missiles fly. "Hey!" cried the young man, throwing up his hands to cover his face. The dog was leaning against his leg, tail wagging furiously.

For a moment Gianozza stared. Then she ran to him, calling out, "Paolo! Paolo!"

Antonia had to look again. The man's name wasn't Paolo. She'd only seen him once before, but she could never forget his handsome features. It was Mariotto Montecchio, finally returned. Paolo must have been some kind of pet name.

"Oh, my love!" Husband met wife, his arms encircling her and lifting her off her feet. Their mouths met in near desperation.