Readers! My deepest apologies for taking eons to update!
Here is Chapter Eighteen. I have been very busy. I promise you I will finish this story and I will speed things up. Reviewers, I love you!
Without further adieu, Chapter Eighteen of 'Mercutio and Allegra'. Enjoy! And review.
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All was cold and dark. The brat had not awakened. The knock on her head had kept her asleep for hours. Tybalt had been sure it had killed her, but he saw her breathing and knew she had to be alive. No matter, anyway; if she lived, he would make sure she kept her mouth shut. He did not need her to die. Though not flesh and blood to Tybalt, and a traitor to the family name, the girl was still a Capulet. He had always loathed her. Yet, when he had raised the sword to her heart, much to the horror of the Montagues and the cretin Mercutio, the feeling one gets when one slaughters an animal came upon him. It was a sensation of filthiness and sinfulness more so than he had ever felt. He had never gotten it before.
She stirred, mumbling something in her own secret idiot language in her sleep on the floor. Tybalt rolled his eyes. Realizing nothing at all stopped him from yelling at her to shut up, he heard a knock on the door, and thus entered Simon's servant.
"What?" Tybalt said, rising from his desk. "Why have you come? Where is Simon?"
Simon's servant let out a little screech of horror. "Master Simon is just outside, Master Tybalt. He is watching the street."
That was where Tybalt had put him. "What are you doing here?" he asked the servant.
"Thy cousins, for whom thou hast called, Master Tybalt." He bowed and sort of pushed Theobald and Ricardo in.
"Good morning, Tybalt," Theobald said with an admiring smile. "Hast thou captured thy desired hostage?"
Tybalt nodded, and pointed to Allegra across the room. Draped in her thick shawl and curled up on the floor, breathing deeply, she had given the air of a sleeping hound. Theobald jumped a bit when he saw the back of her blonde head, and recognized it immediately; of course, though, as his father would not have objected, her did not object. Ricardo, however, to the extreme shock of Theobald and Tybalt, felt a rush of long-held-in fury wave through his muscular body, lunged forward, knocking over Tybalt's desk chair and tripping over his brother.
"That is my sister!" Ricardo yelled. "That is my sister!"
Theobald held his brother back with all his strength. Tybalt wrinkled his nose.
"Ricardo, art thou a Capulet?"
"Thou shalt kill her!" Ricardo said, squirming in his brother's grasp. "Tybalt, thou art going to kill her, Theobald told me all about the hostage!" He paused to steady himself. Bats had appeared under his eyes. "Why her?"
Tybalt stood. Just like Mercutio had for one agonizing split second, Ricardo pictured Tybalt as a king and himself as a commoner, about to be put to death.
"You know why her!" Tybalt barked. "And we need not kill her yet, if at all. If you listen to me, perhaps I shall spare her." He had never looked at Ricardo with such disgust. "Perhaps."
Ricardo's usually solemn face started to bubble up. A vein in his forehead throbbed. Growling and breaking free of Theobald, he swept out of the room, shooting the sickest glare he had ever shot at Tybalt. Theobald and Tybalt exchanged glances. For a moment, Theobald looked ready to speak up, but seemed to be at a loss for words. Tybalt sat him down.
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Simon's home was not far from Ricardo's. Ricardo came home and shut himself in his room, still growling like the beast he was. He said nothing to anyone; not the maids or cook, no matter what they asked of him. His father had forbidden anyone to knock on Allegra's door or speak with her. No one dared to. No one, in this house, knew. No one but Ricardo and his brother knew. Ricardo almost wept for fear when he was alone, and struggled to keep his angry face on his march through the home.
Tancredo had asked nothing of Ricardo. In fact, he had forgotten for a moment that Ricardo was his child. Tancredo sat in his huge red chair in the sitting room, massaging his temples, speaking to no one, gazing at the river. When a knock sounded at his door (he had had the old knocker fixed weeks ago), he, in a rush to abandon his chair, went to the front of his huge house, shooed away the servants and answered it himself.
There on his steps stood a man far younger than he was. Tancredo had most definitely seen him before, but he did not know where; however, he felt he knew the gentleman well, even without knowing his name. The gentleman was not grinning in the slightest. He looked rather rushed. However, the twisted look on his boyish face, the way he bit his pale lips, made it easy for Tancredo to believe the gentleman was used to grinning. Tancredo, for some reason, did not like the man already. He looked him over. The man's hair was in needed of an asylum for the crazy, thought Tancredo; wild as a caveman's, dirt-brown. The gentleman was not too small but short for a man, and his arms were skinny. He had the face of a child. Tancredo felt uneasy.
The gentleman cleared his throat. "Good day, Signor Capulet."
"What art thou, gentleman?" Tancredo inquired of the frantic boy.
The gentleman jumped a little. "I am Mercutio of the Prince's house, sir," he said, then began to wring his hands.
Tancredo was sure he did not like him.
"Mercutio?" Tancredo asked. "Lover of my daughter?"
Mercutio nodded eagerly.
"My condolences," Tancredo said quickly. He shut the door in the Mercutio's face and turned to leave. His mouth had already opened; he was about to call the servants and demand they threw Mercutio into the river, but there was another urgent knock on the door. Tancredo groaned. There was no getting rid of this man!
"Nay, pray, sir!" the whelp called. "I ask humbly I may be allowed in?"
Tancredo did not move.
"Sir, I pray!"
Tancredo stood with his back against the door.
"Sir, I beg!"
Tancredo wad disgusted. He opened the door to face the pitiful man, who had been ready to speak again. Tancredo cut him off harshly.
"Thou, of all people, I would expect to know Allegra is not here. She broke out of her room and shall return in good time."
Mercutio bit his lip. Tancredo ignored his growing pity. "Nay, sir," Mercutio said. He took a deep breath. "This is what I must talk to you about." He blinked and paced a bit left and then right again. He kept his blue eyes wide open as though he were in a forest of ghosts. Finally he turned back to Tancredo. "I beseech you, sir, let me in."
Tancredo looked over the boy; he had no weapons on him. There was no place on his body where he could have been hiding them. Tancredo could hardly believe it. This was ultimate shame. Tybalt, brave Tybalt - his one and only defeater was this puppy! He hardly looked dangerous. He stood there struggling to hold onto his pride. He was younger than Tybalt. He was hardly a man at all. Tancredo was doubly disgusted, but the gentleman begged him. He sighed and let Mercutio in. Mercutio thanked him numerous times.
Tancredo led Mercutio into his dining room, for that was where he settled affairs with his war with the Montagues. He would have liked to find one of his sons there, but they were both gone. Not even his wife was around. Only one servant tended to them. It was only Tancredo and Mercutio.
Although Tancredo loathed this pathetic whelp, he could not help being civil. Mercutio was worried about something, almost shivering. Tancredo offered him a pastry. He turned it down gentlemanly as he was sat down in the dining room.
"Now," Tancredo said in a balanced tone. "Mine sons hath told me - and, I pray, stop me if I speak wrongly - that thou hast consorted more than once with the Montague family?"
"Alas, I shan't lie," said Mercutio a little too loudly. "They are my friends, every one of them. 'Tis not they, though, who should be called guilty for taking your daughter, sir."
Tancredo raised his eyebrows. "Taking? Taking my daughter?"
Mercutio's breathing was heavy. "Ay. Sir," he said, fidgeting in his chair, "Allegra did not break out of her room, sir. She was kidnapped, sir. I should not be telling you.."
"And what men are responsible, do you think?" inquired Tancredo.
Mercutio looked taken aback. Did Tancredo, he wondered, care at all about Allegra's life?
"Forgive this idea, sir," Mercutio said, clearing this throat. "I pray you, tell no one I tell you of this. Tybalt of thy very house. And Simon, his friend. I know not whether thy daughter or his lordship the Prince told you, but the two men hath a lust for Allegra's blood."
"Thou dost put it with a solemn face, my good fellow," Tancredo said, "but I cannot believe thee. I pray thou leavest." Tancredo stood up.
"Wait!" Mercutio cried. "I pray thee, why not? Why canst thou not believe me? Sir, I would rather spill my own blood than be judged by that of my friends."
Tancredo heard the desperation in his boyish voice. "Wouldst thou swear it by thy noble heart, with which thou hast succeeded in defeating Tybalt, my brave nephew?"
Mercutio stared for a moment, then dug his hand into a pocket on his outfit. After seconds of fumbling and aggravation, he fished out a note and shoved it at Tancredo, who at this point had suck down again.
"Do read this note, sir, that was sent to the Montagues to-day," he begged.
Tancredo skimmed through it, catching only a few words. "'Tis not signed with any name."
"Benvolio Montague told me the messenger boy said he brought it from Tybalt. Sir, I swear it on my life -"
"You are not a villainous boy." Tancredo shook his head. "You are of regal blood. 'Tis a pity the Montagues hath taken over thy fresh young mind."
"To hell with the Montagues!"
Tancredo nearly jumped out of his skin. Mercutio stood up and banged his fist on the table. His voice was piercing and his face twitching - he looked quite of out of his mind, and Tancredo could ignore the cries for help hidden in the midst of his voice. "'Twas your kin who took Allegra - Allegra's kin! - and should you not help me, you shall not have a daughter for very much longer!"
Tancredo found his voice. "'Tis all for the better. She swore allegiance to the Montagues - little viper -"
"I pray you, no more insults!" Mercutio cried as if in pain. He locked his fierce eyes with Tancredo's; Tancredo could not look away. "She is a good maid! Sir, hear me. I am sure you hoped for another noble son when your sickly daughter came, but, sir, if your heir Theobald was kidnapped by his own kin, Allegra would keep a strong heart and help as all the men would! If you are worrying about strength, Allegra has the heart and pride of any man, and sir, for this I love her. I love your daughter more than I love anything else in the world. She means everything to me. I cannot lose her, I shall die! I shall die! I need your help! Help me!"
By the time he had finished, Mercutio had approached Tancredo and was still staring at him with hungry eyes. Fear was everywhere on him, and his hands were now trembling. He was a very pitiful sight in Tancredo's eyes, and Tancredo's flame of hatred for him had faded to an ember. Tancredo, for a moment, was not sure what to say.
"You are a fool," Tancredo decided to say.
Mercutio sighed. Tancredo was not going to help him.
"Perhaps I am, but not for loving thy daughter."
His voice was firmer than Tancredo had expected. Tancredo would not let it phase him.
"Ay, for that and everything else!" Tancredo shouted, standing. "When Allegra doth come back, she can plague you! She is your plague!"
"Sir, thanks to thee, I doubt she shall come back," Mercutio said darkly. "Arrivaderci*, vescica."
He turned to the door and left. Tancredo put his head down on the table.
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"OI!"
Mercutio thought it had been a wall he had hit as he exited Giovanni's dining room. In fact, it had been something harder.
"Muck for brains," he said as he waved Ricardo away. Ricardo took Mercutio's hands and squeezed his wrists. Mercutio did not know what he was doing. He kicked Ricardo as hard as he could. He could not break free. Ricardo pulled him into a nearby room and Mercutio kicked and squirmed, feeling the strain in his hands. Finally Ricardo pushed him down and locked the door. The room was dark.
"Thou wert a fool to have told my father," Ricardo said.
"Let me go!" Mercutio said.
"Quiet thyself!" Ricardo barked. "Let me finish. My father will ask Tybalt -"
"Let me go, thou villain!" Mercutio cried.
Ricardo slapped him.
"Ricardo, I warn thee!" Mercutio hissed. "If Tybalt doth know thy father doth know, he shall kill Allegra." Mercutio gulped. "Thy sister. And if he doth, I shall kill thee!"
Ricardo put his face inches away from Mercutio's. Mercutio thought it best he did not move.
"Will thou follow me," Ricardo asked, "or not?"
Mercutio stood up and backed away, into a statue. Ricardo was still a few feet away, ready to pounce on him.
"Taunt me not at this time, coward!" Mercutio growled. "Go and grab at a man who is not off to rescue thy sister, who thou carest about like thou carest about pigeon dung."
Ricardo took a vase and threw it on the ground. It smashed. Mercutio shielded himself.
"I have cared about her longer than thou hast, Mercutio!" he shouted. "Now we must go!"
"'We' shall go nowhere!" Mercutio said. "I shall move not a foot with thee leading! I shall move one in thy groin shouldst thou not let me pass!"
Ricardo would not, regardless of how Mercutio tried, let him pass.
"Thou knowest not where to go," Ricardo said.
Mercutio took Ricardo's scruff and squeezed it. Ricardo struggled not to choke. Mercutio was not large, but he was certainly strong...
"Thou knowest where she is."
"I do," Ricardo spat.
"Take me," Mercutio said, "or I will kill thee."
"I am not thy prisoner!" Ricardo yelled, breaking free and shoving Mercutio onto the ground. Mercutio picked himself up.
"I will take thee because I wish to find my sister safe, not because thou hast threatened me! Now, follow me! We have little time!"
Mercutio did not move.
"Well?" Ricardo said.
"If thou liest," Mercutio said, "thou knowest, I am going to kill thee."
Ricardo narrowed his eyes. "Very well," he said. "If I lie, kill me."
The two young men were together. They kept their faces firm and swallowed their nerves, and Ricardo led Mercutio to Simon's home.
*Bye, Bladder.