A Lesson for the Cyclops Read Online Free Page A

recovered quickly. “ Maria , please leave Mister D’Arbignal’s possessions on that table.”
    Conchinara gazed at D’Arbignal with lustful eyes. “And then, please leave us. We have much to … discuss, he and I.”
    “We do?” D’Arbignal said, grinning.
    Conchinara placed her hand on his chest again, and then traced her fingertips softly over its surface.
    “Oh,” D’Arbignal said, reconsidering. His eyes were on Conchinara’s, shining. “Yes, I’m sure we can find something to fill the idle hours this evening.”
    The Cyclops felt transfixed by heartbreak and humiliation that left her rooted to the spot upon which she stood.
    “Excuse me, uh”—Conchinara fished for the Cyclops’s name—“ Maria . Would you be kind enough to give us our privacy?”
    Overwhelmed with shame, she moved to depart.
    “Thank you, Maria,” D’Arbignal said. Strangely, there was kindness in his voice. And my, how it thrilled her to hear him speak her old name!
    “It was nothing,” she said, thinking of her destroyed sleeping quarters and the hours of cleaning and repairs she’d have to put in before she could sleep. “Nothing at all.”
    As she left the tent, D’Arbignal was saying softly, “Now, what shall we speak about, I wonder?”
    “I’m sure we could think of something,” purred Conchinara.
    A single tear trailed down the Cyclops’s face, and she brushed it off as the tent flap closed behind her. She turned to head back to her tent, and was startled to find Alfredo standing before her, glaring.
    “I take it the man’s rapier found its way safely back home?” he said.
    “Y-y-yes,” the Cyclops said. And then, not to spare Conchinara but to spare D’Arbignal, she added in a loud voice, “Your wife had me leave it on the table for him until he’s feeling better.”
    Alfredo shook his head in disgust. He shoved the Cyclops out of his way.
    As she started towards her own tent, she heard D’Arbignal’s voice from within the tent: “Wait … wife?”

Chapter 9
    The Cyclops was cleaning up the shambles in her tent when she heard the sound of ringing steel outside. She ran out onto the grounds prepared to beg for D’Arbignal’s life. Alfredo loathed her, and likely, she could turn his fury from the wounded D’Arbignal onto herself. He’d be cruel to her, of course, but she’d weathered worse on many occasions.
    “Well played, D’Arbignal,” Alfredo called out, laughing in delight.
    Astonished, the Cyclops staggered into the clearing near the stables to find D’Arbignal and Alfredo grinning like children. Their rapiers whizzed through the air as they lunged, parried, and riposted with dizzying speed and complexity.
    “High praise, indeed,” D’Arbignal said, his own orange rapier a blur. “That compliment, coming as it does from a true master of the blade as yourself, means the very world to me!.”
    The Cyclops simply had not been prepared for this sight. She stared at them stupidly.
    “I mean it. You’re brilliant,” Alfredo said. “Who taught you?”
    “You’re looking at him,” D’Arbignal said with a modest bow.
    “No, that can’t be. Self-taught?” Alfredo said. “No, I don’t believe it. You’ve obviously trained under a master.”
    D’Arbignal laughed, his brilliant teeth shining in the firelight.
    “Let’s say that I’ve trained under many masters … one duel at a time!”
    Alfredo grinned. “I take your meaning, sir. As sure as the sun will rise tomorrow, I do take your meaning.”
    “You’re a pair of fools,” Conchinara said, eyeing them with indignation. She stood outside the entrance to Marco’s tent, her slender olive arms crossed in front of her chest.
    Excluded from experiencing life as a real woman for longer than she could remember, the Cyclops was a keen observer of their rituals and gestures. She watched them from the outside, like a starving woman watching diners eat an expensive meal.
    So she recognized the look in Conchinara’s eyes. She had