Wizards Daughter

She grabbed Nicholas's arms, shook him. "I have parents, Nicholas, and I remember them! They loved me, very much. I have a family!" She began to dance around in her excitement. Nicholas grabbed her and held her tight. He kissed her lightly on her mouth, kissed the tip of her nose, smoothed his fingertips over her eyebrows. He said, "Where is San Savaro?"

Rosalind gri

Nicholas laughed. "A woman is married for less than a week and she knows everything."

Sarimund ahemmed. "Isabella, it's time to tell my lord what happened."

Nicholas frowned at him. "How do you know she can remember what happened to her?"

Sarimund shrugged. "She could not be allowed to remember before, it would have been too dangerous. Mr. Sherbrooke would have felt compelled to contact her family in San Savaro, despite his own misgivings. But now the time is right. Tell him, Isabella, what happened to you."

Suddenly the knowledge was there, alive and terrifying in her mind, and she trembled. "He was my father's cousin- his name was Vittorio. He knew I'd seen what he'd done because he was magic, you see, and he knew I was magic as well. He sensed me, he knew I saw him smother the small babe then lay it back in its dead mother's arms."

Nicholas said, "There was no one else there to see this?"

Rosalind didn't want to but she pictured that horrible scene in her mind. The dead babe and its dead mother and Vittorio standing there, staring down at them, a bitter smile on his mouth. She would never forget that, never. "No, only I saw him kill them."

Nicholas was frowning. "You were a child. Few people believe a child. Why would Vittorio take action against you?''

"If I'd told my father, he would have had the bodies of Ilaria and the babe examined. They would have seen the marks of Vittorio's fingers on her neck. Perhaps the physician would know the babe had been smothered."

Sarimund said, "Isabella, do you know why Vittorio murdered his wife and babe?"

She shook her head.

Sarimund said, 'Theirs was an arranged marriage, naturally, but Vittorio was vicious and u

"There came a time, however, when Ilaria hated her husband more than she feared him. She took a lover, a young man who sang beautifully, a wandering young man who left soon after he'd made love to her. He never knew she bore him a son and Vittorio killed them both."

Nicholas asked her, "What did Vittorio do to you?"

"Tell him, Isabella. You remember."

"Vittorio caught me before I could get to my father." She fell silent a moment, looked over the barren plain, then shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I don't remember anything else."

Sarimund continued. "Vittorio didn't want to kill you. Even in his madness, in his fear that he would be found out, he still loved you, and he loved your father like a brother. But he knew you could not remain in Italy or you would tell your parents, and he knew your father would believe you. Vittorio knew your father was a very powerful wizard from a long line of powerful wizards. As far back as any could remember, there was magic in the Contadini line. In both your lines, there has always been powerful magic.

"Vittorio knew if he didn't do something quickly he would be executed for his crime, that or thrown into a madhouse. So he immediately caught you and gave you over to one of his trusted men to take you to England. I found this destination rather curious since your mother's family is English, but no matter, he must have had a plan, though I never learned what it was.

"It seems Erasmo-the man Vittorio put in charge of you-witnessed you go into a trance. He was very superstitious, and it scared him badly. He believed you a witch and evil." Sarimund shrugged. "So he tried to beat you to death. Indeed, he left you for dead in that alley.

"Ryder Sherbrooke found you and nursed you back to health. Ah, dearest Isabella, I am sorry your memory was closed behind the stoutest of doors, but it was for the best, for everyone. Erasmo told Vittorio you had died of a sweating sickness on the journey. He said there was nothing to be done to save you, and Vittorio believed him.

"Ryder Sherbrooke decided, rightfully so, that no search should be made for your family. He wasn't willing to take the chance that someone would try to kidnap you again." Sarimund lightly touched his fingertips to her brow, touched his thumbs to her temples. "Do you remember now?"

She nodded slowly, never looking away from him.

She said in a child's voice, broken and sad, "I'm sitting cross-legged in a small cabin on one of Vittorio's trading ships, the Zacarria, and my hands are folded just so on my legs. I'm concentrating on my father. I know he and my mother are frantic because I was suddenly just gone, disappeared. Even though I know I'm at sea, far away from Italy, I still believe he can save me. My father is so strong, you see, so very good, and he knows me, knows what I think and how I think. He tells me I am his magic princess and he will make very certain my future husband is a powerful wizard so I will always be safe. He tells me that nearly every night before I sleep, right after Mother kisses me good night. He always smoothes my eyebrows with his finger, just like he does Mother's." Rosalind broke off, lowered her head, and the tears came, hot and thick. A child's tears, she realized, not really her tears, not a woman's tears, but remembered tears and perhaps they were the most painful.

Sarimund touched her cheek. "Tell him, Isabella."

After a moment, she said in that same sad child's voice, "I'm focusing with all my strength on my father, and I see him. He is striding back and forth in front of Mother, and he is very angry, and scared. She's trying not to cry. My brother, Raffaello, is there and he looks very angry as well. He is striking one fist against his open palm, cursing. I call to my father, once, twice, then I scream at him in my mind. I see him turn quickly to face me.

"But at that moment Erasmo came into the cabin to tell me we had finally reached England, that we'd docked at Eastbourne, and he was taking me ashore. I suppose when he saw me, he at first believed I was sleeping, but I wasn't. I stared up at him, through him really, and cursed him in another's voice, and in another language, yet he understood. It frightened him very badly. He screamed at me that he'd heard I was a witch and thus vile and evil, and so he dragged me off the brigantine and into an alley to beat me to death. A cabin boy tried to stop him. Erasmo clouted him and tossed him into the harbor. None of the other sailors tried to stop him.

"I awoke at Brandon House, and remembered nothing of what had happened. After six months, I sang my song and spoke. After I'd been at Brandon House for several years, Uncle Ryder told me why they hadn't tried to search for my family-he feared someone would try to kill me again. His son, Grayson, was my best friend. I think he feared for me and thus he stayed very close for many years, though he never said anything about it." She shrugged. "When Nicholas came back to England, I suppose he set everything into motion. And here we are now, in the Pale. Am I really magic, Sarimund?"