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[L&S] Memorie


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"Is he hurt, the little lord?"

"No, no, he is fine. It is the girl, she is dying."

"Dying? I heard she was dead already."

"Might as well be. I heard she hasn't woken in days."

"Best if she doesn't wake up, most likely. I knew a lad that fell off a horse, and woke up a cripple. Who would the Lord marry her off to, then?"

"Hush yourself! The little lord's in the next room over, and don't you reckon he's feeling bad enough, what with his mother in such a state?"

"Lady Giovanna? Sì, the woman hasn't stopped wailing since they brought the bambina to her nursery."

"I would wail too, and cry out to the Lord for forgiveness. To lose so many children, she must have committed a great sin against God."

"Didn't I tell you two to hush up?! Who knows what ears are listening, and what they will say to Lord Giuseppe?"

"Psh.. that little lord will be avoiding his papà like the plague, if he's smart."

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"Luca! Luca, let me!"

"No, Mariella! You're too little, Papà said already!"

"Too little for my own pony! That is okay, I can ride yours!"

The handsome little noble sighed impatiently. He normally loved playing with his little sister, but this was different. This was something special for him, he was learning his duty as a future lord. His groomsman said so, that a little lord must ride well and proudly. And he was seven years old now, plenty old enough to start learning to be a proper Tuscan nobleman.

"Please, Luca?! I want to ride too!"

"Alright, alright! But it's not a pony, it's a horse. A grown-up horse, so you can ride with me."

"Urrà!!"

_________________________________

They slept together, his sister motionless, pale against the bedding, her dark hair framing a ghost-like face. His mother tossed fitfully, her upper body laid across the bed, head in her crossed arms, her skirts puddled around the stool she sat on. Tear streaks marred her normally beautiful face, and her lips were dry and cracked from dehydration. Gianluca had heard the servants whisper that if his mother died too, then he would have the sinful burden of two deaths upon his shoulders.

They hadn't let him in to see them, so he waited until late at night, after all the servants had fallen asleep, to sneak into his sister's room. He thought he was coming to plead with his mother, to try to make her better so that they wouldn't both die. But the sight of his sister lying death-like upon the bed in his mother's arms stopped him short. He stumbled backwards, away from this evidence of his sins, and fell back onto the rug with a little cry as he hit the hard floor. His mother jerked awake, sitting up, her beautiful brown hair flowing unbound in loose waves around her face in a way he didn't remember ever seeing before.

"Gianluca? What are you doing here, you shouldn't be here!"

"Mamma, I'm sorry, please - please, is Maria going to die? The servants all say it."

"I don't know - I don't - I think God is punishing me, my children have died, so many of them! And you, foolish boy, what were you thinking?! And your father, you are too young, you should not ride yet, I--"

"Mamma, stop. Stop, please! I will pray, please let me pray, I have sinned. I will pray to God to wake her."

"That is good, Gianluca. You must kneel here, and pray until your sister is awake."

The little boy knelt, his fingers threaded together and his head bowed, at his sister's bedside. Anything, anything to stop his mother from crying, and to make his sweet little sister wake up again. He felt the guilt of murder on his soul, and he began to pray.

"Mariella, Mi dispiace, Mi dispiace tanto little sist--"

"Gianluca! You pray to the Vergine Maria! If your sister wakes up you can apologize to her then!"

"Scusa, Mamma. Cara Mary, Madre di Dio..."

_________________________________

"Just me, just me - pleeeease, Luca?!"

"Maria, no! You're just a little girl - I told you, this is a grown-up lord's horse!"

Maria giggled as she looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with laughter at her silly older brother up on his chestnut-colored steed. He was like a handsome knight, and she admired him, but she wasn't supposed to tell him that. The maid said he would get a 'swelled head', and that didn't sound very nice at all.

"You're not a grown Lord - you're just Luca!!"

"I am too!"

"Are not! Besides, Mamma says a proper lord is kind and polite to ladies. A kind lord would let me ride a pony, all by myself!"

"I told you, it's a horse, not a -- oh, nevermind. Fine. But just this once, you promise?"

"Sì, I promise, I promise!"

He sighed, and climbed off of the horse. He was learning very easily, he'd overheard the groomsman telling his father so the other day. Any day now he was expecting a visit during one of his lessons, and he wanted to practice as much as possible before his father came to see his progress. Perhaps if he let his sister ride the horse a bit, then she'd finally get bored with it, and leave him alone.

"Lift me up, Luca!"

"Okay, okay. Here.. hold onto the reins. Come over here, I can't lift you all the way up."

Together they guided the horse over to the fence. It was a small horse, for a young lord, but still too big for a little lady. He helped his sister climb up onto the fence, and then together they moved her over to the horse. Gianluca hesitated then.. she looked so tiny on that horse, her skirts up around little-girl knees and her tiny hands on the thick reins that even he struggled to hold onto firmly.

"Okay, look - give me the reins, I'll help lead you around a bit so you can get a feel for it, and then--"

"OH MIO DIO, WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING?!"

In a disaster, it can be as if time slows down. Everything moment seems to take forever, and that was how it seemed to Gianluca in those few seconds. He heard the groomsman's cry, just as his sister clicked her little boots against the sides of the horse. The reins jerked in his hand as the horse abruptly trotted forward. He heard Maria's scream, and the horse's whinny, and the thud of her small body as it hit the ground. He felt the hands shoving him aside, and heard the groomsman crying out for help, and the screaming of the maid as she ran down from the estate, and his own heart thudding in fear, and his own sobbing as he cried out for his sister.

"Mariella, Mariella, no - wait! No!"

_________________________________

"NOOOOO!!!!"

Gianluca jerked awake, sitting up in his bed and gasping, just as the door to his room was thrown open. He expected a servant, or perhaps even his mother, even as he acknowledged the foolishness of that idea - his mother was in the room with Maria, praying to the Virgin for her daughter's life the way he'd left her, hours ago. What he didn't expect was the tall, imposing figure of his father. He trembled a little, and then burst into childlike sobs. Little lord or not, he was seven years old, and waiting for his little sister to die. It was all his fault, and he knew it. Everyone said so, though they didn't dare say it to him.

Lord Giuseppe crossed the room, and sat down on his son's bed, pulling him close. He wasn't an uncaring father, and the last few days had been torturous for him in his own way. He'd worried about his wife, and feared for her mental condition if her only living daughter were to die. He'd feared for his son, the lost little boy sobbing in his arms, if he'd been forced to live with the guilt of causing his sister's death. And he'd feared for his daughter, one of the only two children who'd made it to birth, and lived past the dangerous age of early childhood sicknesses. But now he could set those fears aside. It was alright, the girl had woken, their little Mariella was safe.

"Shhh.. shhh, Gianluca. Your sister is fine, she woke up a couple hours ago. She is weak, and tired, but she will be okay."

Gianluca pulled back, looking up at his father with tenuous hope.

"Really?"

"Really. Your mother is sleeping, finally. You must not scream any more, for she is very tired and needs her rest."

"Papà, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean--"

"I know, son, I know. But you must be more careful. Your little sister is a treasure, we must cherish her. You are her older brother, and you must always love her, and protect her, and treat her as a princess. Do you understand, mio figlio?"

"Yes.. yes Papà."

"You promise you will do this?"

"I promise, Papà. I swear it."

Lord Giuseppe ran his hand over his young son's head, threading his fingers through his hair.

"Very good. Now go, and apologize to your sister. She has been asking for you."

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