The fair-haired courier was in his forties. He wore a clean white cotte with the crest of an orange griffin across the chest. With a familiar modest smile, he tipped his head and made his greetings to Anthea.
Anthea was nearly never terse with anyone, especially Capua’s estate steward and Pero’s best friend, but right now all she could manage for him was a half-hearted reply. His name. “Francis.”
Chapter 12 continues with Pero and Anthea still in La Torre shopping at the market when a messenger, Francis Whitehall, rides in.
Francis is not just any messenger. He came to tell Pero that a messenger has arrived in Capua from the capital, from Parthenope. This is the first time Pero has been excited about something, anything, for a long time, for months. He’s already mounting the extra horse Francis brought with him when Anthea stops him.
Pero revered his mother and trusted her prayers. Her wisdom was sound. One day it would be his destiny to unearth such a rarity, such a ruby.
Pero held his ruby’s hands in his own and noticed that they had grown cold. he tried to warm them. “I promise I will attend you later. It has been nearly five months.”
“And it can’t wait an hour longer?” Anthea asked.
No, it can’t.
Pero’s mental health has been sliding since that banquet when he broke Rugerius Fabbro’s jaw. The Lord Commander had promised a reply on how trust could be restored and the peace maintained. But five months had passed without a word. Pero had even sent messengers to Parthenope and they were turned away, not even given access to the palace. Pero was losing his mind waiting. Finally, he was seeing a ray of light.
Anthea placed her hand on Pero’s heart, over the badge of House Velez. She rubbed the blue and silver tails and noticed the familiar bulge beneath the supple leather. It was a metal clasp he kept secreted in a pocket sewn inside his shirt. This pocket had been sewn inside all of his shirts and jerkins. The clasp never left him. It was the first trinket exchanged between them, a gold clasp she once wore and lost inside a chapel.
She was relieved to find the gold clasp still on his person. Near his heart.
We will learn more about this gold clasp in a later chapter in Betrayal. For now, we just know it is an important token to both of them.
As Anthea examined her subjects, they examined her back. They were waiting for something. They were waiting for a display of strength and faith.
Anthea is embracing her role as the Lady of Capua, and because of her upbringing, her personal constitution, she wants to transfer her hope to those who don’t have it. It’s killing her that she can’t reach her husband-to-be, that he’s so depressed and concerned about the future.
She looks at the people in La Torre and sees a similar darkness and doesn’t like it.
She responds by poking fun at Pero while his back is turned. And she gets the response she was hoping for.
The people start to laugh. They know she’s being childish and petulant, and they don’t care. They know she’s not happy about him leaving her here in La Torre while he rides back to Capua.
She’s mocking Pero’s authority, and they love it.
Pero was confused. ‘Why are they cheering?’ He thought. ‘Even Francis.’ He wondered if he looked particularly splendid in the saddle, if they were encouraged by his commanding stature. Whatever it was, he supposed it had something to do with him, so he waved and smiled back, and this only made them become more boisterous.
Pero was ever more confused.
This actually goes to show how disconnected Pero has become to the plight and misery of his people. Everyone knew there was a lot of tension between Capua and Parthenope now because of the incident at the banquet. They were concerned things might lead to war. There was civil unrest in plenty of other places in Europe. It was Pero’s duty to reassure him that they were safe, and no harm would come to them.
But Pero was fixated on himself and his mistakes. He didn’t feel safe. He was not seeing clearly how his drawing back from everything in his life was hurting other people.
He had responsibilities and was failing at them.
Pero rides off and leaves Anthea in the hands of a detail of knights that had escorted them on their walk to La Torre.
Once Pero had ridden off for Capua like a conquering hero, the crowd grew quiet, and Anthea, surrounded by the genteel subjects, felt cold and alone, her arms lightly chilled. Apprehensions swirled. ‘How can I raise a family in this environment? Will Pero be there for me? For our children? He’s so reckless sometimes. Taking chances. Challenging authority. Opening his mouth when he should keep it shut. Why can’t he be like other men? Would I still love him if he was?’
That last consideration pinched her hard.
Anthea knows Pero didn’t act recklessly when he broke Rugerius Fabbro’s jaw. He did what was just and right at the time. Rugerius earned it, deserved it.
Anthea doesn’t want her husband to change, to stop being who he is. But he has been changing. He’s not rising up to the crisis. He’s not challenging the Lord Commander’s authority. He’s being too passive about this, too indecisive and fearful. He seems to be scared of everything. He is focused on the horizon, on the darkness, on the shadows.
Anthea doesn’t understand it because she’s never seen this side of Pero. He’s always followed his heart before and did the right thing, the noble thing. She remembers that he challenged tradition by saving her from a disastrous arranged marriage.
‘No, if Pero ever ceased to be incensed by injustice or deliberately defied God, forswearing his sacred duties, I would be disenchanted with him. His spirit is as real to me as his face. I can recognize Pero, eyes closed, heart open.’
Anthea’s love for Pero is deep and real. She knows he’s a good man. She doesn’t want him to be corrupted by the behavior of evil people.
The old woman sitting patiently in the shaded booth behind the vendor’s table cautiously did the unthinkable and touched Lady Anthea on the shoulder. “Signora,” she politely inquired. “Will you be purchasing that material?”
Anthea looked to the silk and the sindon, to the white and red material, and decided to purchase both.
The red cloth reminded her of the blood filling the human heart, the precious fluid that keeps the body alive. The white silk harkened back to days of sweet innocence and noble truth.
The answer was obvious. “I will purchase them both for I will need them both.”
Anthea wasn’t really thinking about the material as much as what they represented to her – life and truth.
And that’s all I got for this installment.
Until next time, stay inspired and keep reading!
Author Allen M Werner 
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