A/N: I get to properly introduce a new character in this (longish) chapter! Yay! Been wondering about Shylock's schemes? Well you won't be wondering much longer! Also I had my wisdom teeth removed yesterday so I should be able to write a little while I'm recuperating. Thanks for the reviews and follows so far!
Speak low if you speak of love.
~William Shakespeare
Chapter Seven – A Sister's Love
Portia's stomach felt like it was caving in on itself. Like it was going to shrivel up into a tiny ball inside of her. The pain was a throbbing ache that only worsened with every gurgle in her gut. She looked down at the bowl of gruel by her feet.
She had refused it several times, but Shylock would not feed her anything else. As she stared at it, definitely entertaining the idea of eating a few bites to quell the howling in her stomach, something MOVED in the gruel. Her stomach was empty but she still gaged and tasted bile in her mouth.
She looked at Shylock, who had his back to her and was paying her no attention. He had pulled a small table in front of the fire, probably so there would be ample light for Portia to watch him feast. He had a small game bird like a grouse or pheasant that dripped with juice, aromatic bread, cheese, and wine. Watching him eat only made her hunger that much sharper. It was unbearable.
"Might I… have some of that food?" Portia asked timidly.
Shylock set is goblet down very, very slowly. He turned his head slightly in her direction. "The porridge isn't good enough for you?" His voice was quiet but those words held an unspoken threat.
A thrill of fear rushed through Portia like the blood in her veins had been replaced with ice water. Shylock was a powerful sorcerer… he could probably do that.
"I am sorry…" she whispered meekly. Shylock paused for a moment longer, and Portia prayed that he would not get up and strike her for her insolence. Again. But the evil man went back to eating and Portia was forced to watch him. She was so hungry…
Why couldn't she be strong? Bassanio would be cursing Shylock in a ceaseless flow of every foul word under the sun, and demanding food in between. He probably would have found a way to escape by now, too- No, Antonio would have come for him by now.
Is anyone coming for me?
She suddenly remembered something her sister had told her once, when they were both little girls. She had been going to one of the barns on the grounds of the Belmont manor against her father's wishes. He said the barn wasn't safe and it wasn't ladylike to be going into barns anyway. Nerissa openly defied their father and went to the barn, and the previous evening she had come inside all smudgy and dirty and full of stories of a litter of kittens near the chicken coop. Only the chickens were kept in the old barn because the floors would break under any heavier livestock.
Portia desperately wanted to see the kittens so one afternoon she snuck out to the old barn. As she was sneaking toward the coop she stepped on a rotten board and her right leg fell through the floor and into the barn's cellar. Portia screamed and cried because her leg had been scraped and it hurt. She tried to get up but her dress was stuck. The cellar air was cold on her leg.
She stayed quiet for a few minutes. If she cried someone would hear her eventually but she would also get in big trouble. After about ten minutes that stopped mattering and she just wanted to not be stuck anymore so she wailed for her father. It wasn't her father who answered her cries.
"What in the name of God are you doing, Tia?" Portia turned around to see a little boy dressed in tattered, dirty overalls standing right behind her. Only Nerissa called her Tia… and only Nerissa hung out with the foul-mouthed cooks.
"Nerissa?" Portia asked cautiously. The boy grinned and took off his hat. Long, dark hair tumbled out and two dark green eyes sparkled with mischief at her. "Oh Nessy, it is you! Help me!"
Nerissa's grin slipped into a frown. "No."
…What?!
"No?! Nessy I'm really stuck!" Portia was going to start crying again.
"No you're really not," Nerissa insisted. "Tia… you've got to learn to get yourself out of trouble all on your own."
"But…"
"Rip your dress," Nerissa said firmly.
"But-!"
"Yes, I know mother will be mad. It's the only way you're going to get out of here."
After a little more pressuring from Nerissa, Portia finally ripped her dress away from the shards of wood. It wasn't a pretty sight and their mother had been livid, and for a few days Portia wouldn't speak to Nerissa because she was so angry that her sister had not helped her.
I'm as helpless now as I was back then… Nothing's changed, I'm still… Pathetic.
"Tia, you've got to learn to get out of trouble all on your own," Portia murmured to herself.
"What was that?" Shylock asked with a threatening edge in his voice.
Portia swallowed; her mouth was as dry as parchment. "I said…" She could be brave, too. Her situation seemed hopeless, but… Shylock was an egomaniac. If she could get him talking, maybe he would tell her of his plans. Maybe she could talk him out of it… Maybe.
"I said… I asked why you are keeping me here. Is it for the money? My family will pay you whatever you desire in exchange for my safe return."
Shylock gave a low, humorless chuckle. "Oh, I will take a hefty ransom out on you, but not from your family."
"Do you not already have a large sum to your name?" Portia asked in confusion. Once she thought about it she could recall seeing Shylock at several events hosted my Antonio's parents, and nowhere had she seen any evidence of poverty in Shylock.
Shylock stood and faced the fire. "My wealth is nothing compared to the wealth my pathetic cousin will inherit when my uncle dies…" He turned to drill Portia with his cold gaze. "Did you know that if Antonio were dead, it would all go to me?"
It slowly dawned on Portia what Shylock was getting at, and a feeling of horror settled over her. "Do you mean to murder your own cousin?"
Shylock barked out a rough laugh. "Oh no, my dear lady! If I were to murder Antonio, I would be hanged long before I could inherit a single gold piece."
"Then why are you telling me this? Why have you taken me if your grudge is against Antonio?"
Shylock seemed to consider this for a moment. "My cousin may seem hard on the outside, but he is as loyal as the day is long and cares deeply about those close to him."
"I know," Portia said fiercely. "He is a good man and a good friend to Bassanio, my betrothed.
Shylock smiled. "Seeing Bassanio distressed about you being in danger would break my cousin's lily-livered heat. He would do anything to help Bassanio… even sign a contract giving me full legal permission to kill him should Lord Romano not return in time to pay back the money I am lending them for your ransom. What Antonio doesn't know is that I intercepted a letter for him- His father's ship has sunken. Lord Romano and his ship lie at the bottom of the ocean. Now there is no way Antonio will be able to pay off the bond, ensuring that I have claim on his life."
Portia felt sick at heart. Poor Antonio… his father was dead and he had no idea. And his kin was trying to murder him. "You're a horrible, vile man!" Shylock smiled and took a drink of his wine. Portia gathered her courage: "You won't get away with this! I… I'll find a way to stop you!
Shylock laughed. "My dear, by the time you leave this place, you won't remember a single thing I've said."
All night, Bassanio and his guard rode as hard as stealth and the heavy gold would allow. They had split the chests of gold between two of the horses so it would be easier to carry. As the sky began to lighten they too shelter in a cave in a rock outcropping near the river. The guards took the first shifts watching for danger so Bassanio could sleep for a while.
The sun rose and shone hot in the sky but Bassanio's dreams were dark and hazy. He was cold and scared. In his dreams he wandered through the dark, searching for something (probably Portia), but he felt like he was waist deep in quick sand. It was hard to move and hard to breathe. He began to panic-
He gasped when one of the guards, Salanio was his name, woke him for his shift as lookout. Bassanio still felt exhausted even though the sun was high in the sky. He reluctantly removed himself from his cot and shook the leaves and bugs out of his hair. His back ached from the hard ground and the rocks under his cot.
What I wouldn't give for my bed right now…
Salanio fell asleep with the other guards and Bassanio sat just inside the entrance of the cave with his rapier on his lap. The burbling of the nearby stream and the dappled sunlight began to work a hypnotic spell on him. His eyes were so heavy; he began to drift off…
"Bassanio…"
His eyes flashed open. Someone had hissed his name; it sounded like a woman… And then he saw a flash of movement deep in the woods.
"Portia?" he whispered.
"Is something wrong, sir?" Salanio had woken up and was looking at him with concern.
"No, no…" But then Bassanio heard his name again and this time he knew he wasn't dreaming. "I thought I saw something; I'm going to go check it out."
"Should we come with you?" Salanio asked.
"No, stay here," Bassanio insisted. "I won't be gone long." Salanio reluctantly nodded and took up Bassanio's post at the entrance of the cave.
Bassanio was not formally trained in the arts of swordsmanship or stealth as his friend Antonio was. It always had a little backwards with them. Bassanio, while he was Antonio's servant, should have been training in the deadly arts so he would have been able to protect his master. Bassanio had begun to train with a master swordsman but it was obvious that even with persistent and rigorous training, Bassanio would never have any skill with a sword or any other weapon.
Antonio's father wanted to find his only heir a new manservant, one who was older and would be able to protect him. Antonio fought his father's decision with a fierceness that Lord Romano had never seen in his son before. Antonio had started training long before Bassanio had, and he proved to his father that he could take care of himself by defeating three grown men in fencing at the age of eight. Lord Romano agreed to let Bassanio keep his position if Antonio swore to continue his training on into adulthood.
Antonio would surpass his master soon, and once Bassanio was no longer his manservant, Antonio became something of a teacher to his friend as well. Once and a while he would show Bassanio a defense maneuver with a knife or a stealth trick.
It was one such trick that Bassanio put into practice as he moved through the trees. He moved from tree to tree, only choosing the ones that had a thick enough circumference to conceal his body (this was easy since the trees were many and his body was slender). He kept his eyes affixed on the spot where he'd seen the shadow, looking down only briefly to plot a silent course though the twigs and dried leaves. The grass was thick and lush; this was also a lucky break.
He saw another flash of movement to his left, what looked like a cape, and quickly set off after it. As he moved further away from the stream the trees got thicker and taller and the woods got darker. His sightings of the caped figure became closer and more frequent.
Bassanio soon forgot all about stealth and began to run after the person. Twigs snapped under his boots but he paid the noise no heed. The figure seemed to be ghost-like, moving invisibly from tree to tree, seen just long enough to encourage a chase.
Finally, it led Bassanio to a large clearing and stopped, turning to face him. Bassanio could see that the figure was small and wearing a hood that concealed his face. His cape dragged along the forest floor. He wore a broadsword belted to his left hip.
"Who are you?" Bassanio demanded, quite breathless from the chase. As an afterthought he brandished his rapier. He realized that his rapier was going to do him about as much good as a slender stick if the hooded man was any good with his broadsword. He also realized that the figure had lured him too far away from the safety of the guards. Even if they did hear him scream, they would never reach him in time. His heart began to race with fear.
Had he just stumbled like a bumbling fool into a trap?
"You look frightened, Bassanio," the hooded figure observed, and Bassanio nearly dropped his sword in shock. The voice coming from the shadowy depths of the hood was that of a woman! And a familiar voice at that, but he couldn't quite place it…
"How do you know my name?" he barked, lifting his sword once more. The woman didn't answer, so he asked, "By what name are you known?"
The woman pulled her hood back, and Bassanio was confused once more by the young boy that was revealed to him. The boy had wild blond hair and large green eyes that struck a familiar cord within him. His lips were also full, too full for a boy… The person reached up, grasped his/her hair, and pulled. The blond hair, a wig, came off to reveal long black hair that tumbled down her shoulders in a glossy wave.
"Nerissa!" Bassanio gasped, lowering his sword. Nerissa was the mirror image of her twin sister, but Bassanio knew them both so well that they were as different as night and day to him.
Indeed, Nerissa's full lips pulled into her characteristic sly smile. "I had you scared for a second there, brother."
Bassanio let out a breath of relief that he hadn't known he had been holding. "I'm not your brother yet… Wait, what are you doing here?!"
"Really, Bassanio?" Nerissa arched one ebony eyebrow at him. "My beloved sister goes missing and suddenly you decide to go off on an adventure with Antonio Romano's personal guard? The village idiot could put those two puzzle pieces together. You're going to rescue my sister. I've been following you all night; I want to help."
Bassanio sighed. "We are carrying much gold-"
"A ransom?" Nerissa asked.
"Yes, and therefore will inevitably attract bandits. It is too dangerous of a journey for a woman-"
"I am more skilled with a sword than any many in Neo Venice," Nerissa snapped. She took two deliberate steps toward Bassanio, drew her sword, slashed at him, and sheathed her blade again before Bassanio had time to stumble back. He landed on his butt with a cry of indignant surprise. A single golden curl fell from his head to his lap.
"You could have cut me open!" Bassanio cried, clutching his neck.
"You are exactly right," Nerissa nodded gravely. "I could have. I will be joining your party, Bassanio, only you must not let on that I am a woman and an heir of Belmont. The guards have their hands full pampering one useless brat." Her grin showed that she was only teasing, but Bassanio was still cross about the example she had made of him.
"What shall I call you, then?" he muttered.
Nerissa began to pin her long hair back into place. Bassanio could not help but notice that she must have wrapped her chest to hide her considerable bust. She donned the dirty wig. With the man's clothing that probably had belonged to one of her servants, she looked nothing like a girl. Just a very pretty boy.
"You shall call me Thomas," she replied. "I am a tracker that you will be hiring when you stop in Havensport; it's just a day's journey from here. I will join your party then."
Bassanio frowned. "Why would I hire a tracker?"
Nerissa looked like she was ready to take another swing at him with her blade. "To close the gap between you and the kidnapper, of course! He has only a day's lead on you, maybe two; I am not the best tracker but I can help you pick up his tracks. If we can ambush him we might be able to get Portia back, no ransom needed."
Bassanio frowned. "The possibility never occurred to me… that we could track the kidnapper. I assumed he would be waiting at Zeus' Pyre for us…"
"Zeus' Pyre?! That's leagues away! Surely you are not thinking that he is there right now? He has to get there by horse or carriage, same as you or I!"
Bassanio said nothing as he got to his feet and brushed his breeches off. He hadn't thought of that…
Nerissa sighed. "I will go back to where I found Portia's carriage… It was overturned; the horses and her coachmen were slaughtered. It looked like a griffin attack… except that those are mythological… I found wolf prints. Large ones. I will track them as close to Havensport as I can. Meet me there two nights from now. You will continue to travel by night, yes?"
"That is what Antonio advised we do," Bassanio said.
"Hm," Nerissa frowned. "In cave country, yes… It is better to rest in the caves during the day. The inhabitants of the caves come out at night. But when you leave cave country you'd best travel during the day. Robbers are more active during the night."
Bassanio nodded slowly, wondering if Antonio would agree with this advice.
She squinted at him. "You should have brought Antonio with you; I have been hunting with him before. He is an excellent tracker and a proficient swordsman." Nerissa hated to admit it, but she had never won a duel against Antonio yet. "Why isn't he here? That boy may be your superior but he is as loyal to you as the day is long. I should think it would take an act of God to keep him at home while you are here."
"Not an act of God… an act of a devil," Bassanio muttered darkly.
Nerissa rested a hand on her blade. Her green eyes flashed in the dim light. "Please explain."
