Duardo de Trantio. Biannca wrinkled her nose in distaste. It would take a more desperate sellsword than she to ride to that mad man’s estate. Money or otherwise. Not too much desperate though. Lowering the employment note, she pulled the lace curtains back to look out over the city. The cool night wind caressed her naked flesh and a shiver of pleasure ran through her. The city of Verezzo stretched out  beneath her like a glittering field of jewels. Further out , the lush plain was tinted with the moon’s silver light. Here and there a small prosperous farmstead blazed with firelight.

Behind her she heard a stirring in the bed. Giarlamo de Savara, a man in rather later middle age than she preferred, stirred in his bed. Still, this was a very beautiful and comfortable house on the hill and trade offs had to be made.

[b]“Come back to bed Biannca,”[/b] Giarlamo murmured invitingly. She was about to make a mildly stinging remark about his capabilities in that area when a pounding on the heavy oak door.

[b]“Come out whore!”[/b] Screamed a male voice, tinged with hysteria. Giarlamo sat up with a start, clearly confused. A chill ran through Biancca, there were enough people that might characterize her that way, and one appearing now was not good.

[b]“How dare you!”[/b] The lordling thundered, grasping around in the near dark for a robe or a weapon. Biannca cast her eyes toward the dresser where her clothing and possessions were stored. Before she could move, the door exploded inward, banging violently against the stone wall. There, illuminated by the lanterns his two underlings carried, was Remo Calvaro. He had been her previous star crossed lover.  It was perhaps unfortunate that the first sight that greeted him was her naked body silhouetted against the large stone window.

[b]“Whore!”[/b] Remo screamed again, apparently limited in his repertoire insults.

[b]“You swore you would be mine alone,”[/b] he cursed, stamping forward. The two men who followed him looked tough, mercenaries probably.

Giarlamo rolled out of bed, coming up with a rapier in his hand, pointing it low at the new comers chest.

[b]“Remo?”[/b] The older man managed, he clearly recognized the other noble as fear and adrenaline chased the last cobwebs of sleep away.

[b]“Biannca?”[/b] He asked doubtfully, [b]“what is he talking about?”[/b]

Great, comparing notes was never good. Who could remember what you had said to whom anyway?

Her mouth worked, looking for a diplomatic way out of her predicament. Perhaps accepting favors from both men had been a mistake afterall. Before she could make up her mind on what to say one of the mercenaries rushed forward. His intention might have been to disarm Giarlarmo but the older man pivoted smoothly and reflexively thrust his rapier into the thugs belly. The coppery smell of blood and the sharp stench of intestines filled the room. Remo and his other crony rushed forward with howls of rage.

Biannca dived for the dresser  as the room erupted in chaos behind her. Giarlarmo screamed like a gelded hog for the merest second before cutting off in a bubbling grunt. She snatched one of her pistols from between her silk garment, thumbed back the hammer and spun. One of the thugs was lunging towards her and she fired  without really aiming. The thunder of the powder in the stone chamber left her ears ringing but the thug was hurled back across the blood stained bed blood bubbling from his lips. Bright lights danced across her eyes from the discharge. She groped for the second pistol but just as her fingertips brushed the wooden stock a heavy weight hit her across the chest. Her head smacked against stone floor while Remo grasped at her throat with iron fingers.

[b]“You filthy slut, you won’t live to regret making me a laughing stock,”[/b] he hissed as he started to squeeze. The world spun drunkenly around her. With strength born of desperation she bought the butt of her pistol up in a vicious arc, smashing the heavy wood into his temple. At the same time she drove her knee into his groin, throwing him off her with a pained grunt. She crawled frantically across the stone floor towards one of the fallen mercenaries, reaching the man  a moment before Remo’s strong hands grabbed her ankles. WIth a  final desperate effort she snatched a dagger from the fallen sell swords belt and spinning on her attacker. There was just enough time to take in his face, twisted with hate and jealously, before drove the slim blade into his throat. Remo fell back with a gurgle, grasping uselessly at the knife as blood fountained out around the blade. He staggered back with a plaintive whine, took a step towards the window and collapsed in a heap.

Biannca stood for a moment, naked, splashed with blood, over the bodies of two of Verezzo’s most powerful men. Her chest heaved as she struggled to fill her lungs. Her eyes drifted down to the note, surprisingly white in the moonlight. She grabbed for her clothes and weapons. Perhaps she [b]WAS [/b]that desperate.