“What?” Machiavelli’s tone was sharp.
“I will join the Roman at his court, praise your leadership, and live out my days at his side.”
Niccolò’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll go to Rome, secure his army, and march it here.”
“If I leave Florence voluntarily, I will have abandoned my claim to the throne. You can send messengers to the Roman stating that fact.”
“What assurances have I that he won’t decide to gift you with the principality, since you are his favorite?”
“I would have no reason to return to a city I fled, especially when I can enjoy the luxuries Rome provides.”
Machiavelli stared at William for some time.
“You are an old one. The Roman is older still, but he cannot live forever. If I let you go, there’s a possibility you’ll overthrow him. That would only increase my peril.”
“The Roman has escaped the Curia’s curse. He’s the most powerful vampyre alive and absolutely unassailable.” William leveled cold eyes on his rival. “All the more reason not to anger him.”
Machiavelli drummed his fingers on the armrest, apparently deep in thought.
“All I ask, Niccolò, is that I be allowed safe passage from the city and that Aoibhe be allowed to accompany me.”
She looked over at William, her face an expression of shock.
“Aoibhe is slated for execution,” Machiavelli announced.
“I’d rather speak on my own behalf than have either of you decide my fate.” Aoibhe glared at each vampyre in turn. “Your list of allies grows short, Nick. You have no Consilium and no friends. Send William to the Roman to live out his days, of which there are few, and allow me the role of lieutenant.”
“Lieutenant?” Niccolò sputtered. “You must be mad.”
“Who will guard your back? Stefan?” Aoibhe laughed. “If you exile William, I’m the oldest citizen of this principality, next to you. You need me. Or else you’ll find yourself with a reign the length of Lorenzo’s.”
“On second thought, I’d rather send you to the Roman. You can be a thorn in his flesh, just as you’ve been in mine.”
Aoibhe pursed her lips and exchanged a look with William.
Machiavelli gestured to the sentries who were guarding the two vampyres.
“I had hoped Lorenzo would dispose of you both. Now that he’s failed I have no choice. Executing the former prince may earn me censure from the Roman, but I’m willing to take that risk.
“If the Curia has decided to exert more control over the kingdom of Italy, the Roman will have larger problems to deal with. I will argue that you lost the principality due to carelessness.”
At this, he stood and extended his hand. “I, Niccolò, Prince of Florence, hereby condemn William of Britannia and Aoibhe of Hibernia to death for acts of treason. Execution will take place summarily by the Florentine army.”
“Are we not to be afforded a moment to speak in our own defense?” William challenged him.
Machiavelli regained his seat. “There is no judge or jury here. I’ve already pronounced sentence.”
William turned away from the new prince to address the army, arms spread wide.
“Brothers and sisters, you know me. I am William and I’ve served the principality of Florence since the fourteenth century.
“For hundreds of years, I kept the city safe from the Curia, while other cities fell. I ensured food was plentiful and that ferals and hunters were kept out of the city. I protected us when the Venetians attempted to invade us.
“But years of peace and prosperity are insufficient for someone like Niccolò.” William gestured dismissively toward the throne. “He will only be satisfied with tyranny.
“Look to your swords, brothers and sisters. Look to those who serve with you. Will you give your sword and your life to this interloper? This tyrant who whispers sweet lies in the shadows while the true prince is fighting to keep danger at bay?”
A few echoes of support were heard.
“He cannot best me in combat so he summons my army to take his place. Are you willing to give up your existence to feed his vanity?”
“Make no mistake.” Aoibhe aimed her dark eyes at the general. “He’ll have your head. Anyone who is a threat will be eliminated, and that means anyone above the age of youngling.” She pointed at the row upon row of soldiers. “That means all of you.”
“That is quite enough,” Machiavelli growled. He gestured to General Valerian, who was already positioning his soldiers so that they encircled the condemned prisoners.
“You may begin, General.”
The soldiers lifted their swords.
“There is still time to surrender,” William cautioned them. “Drop your sword and your life will be spared.”
He placed his back to Aoibhe’s so that they were both facing their executioners.
“I can’t believe I’ve lived this long only to end my life at the end of a Florentine sword.” She lowered into a crouch, watching for the first sign of an attack.
“Surely the Prince of Florence is not so stingy as to leave us without weapons.” William lifted his eyes to the throne.
Niccolò waved a hand at the general. “Give them each a sword.”
Two swords flew through the air, each caught handily by the captives.
“This is your last chance, Niccolò.” William’s voice rang out. “End this conflict before I diminish the army.”
“If I lose soldiers, I’ll make new ones.” Machiavelli nodded at the general. “Begin.”
Aoibhe lifted her sword with both hands, poised to strike. “Did you hear that, army? You’re no better than humans to your new prince. Each of you is disposable.”
The general barked out an order and the army advanced on all sides.
Chapter Fifty-six
William and Aoibhe were a whirlwind of movement, striking and blocking at every turn, but they were hopelessly outnumbered. For every soldier killed, another took his or her place. All the while, the new prince sat on his throne, watching his army shrink.
William knew there were too many. There were too many for him and he was an old one. Aoibhe was stronger than any of the soldiers individually, but taken together, they’d overwhelm her and then he’d have no one at his back.
He’d let Raven go without kissing her. Without persuading her he was keeping his promise to protect her and her sister, even though that meant sending her to his enemy. Now he’d never have the chance to look into her eyes and explain.
With renewed vigor, William went on the attack, forcing the line of soldiers to retreat.
Behind him, Aoibhe stumbled. She fell to the ground, her sword careening across the floor and coming to rest out of reach.
A line of soldiers advanced and one lifted his arm in preparation to take her head.
His blow was caught inches from Aoibhe’s neck by William’s sword.
A soldier saw the opening and ran up behind him, aiming for his head. Lightning fast, William turned, leaning backward to avoid the metal that flashed through the air, narrowly missing his throat.
He lifted his sword, but before he could strike, the soldier’s head flew from his shoulders and his body crumpled to the ground.
Gregor stood behind him, sword in hand.
It was then William saw an influx of his citizens, armed and battling with the soldiers who surrounded him. Beyond them, half of the army had already fallen back, disengaging from the conflict.