by Eric Flint
“Me,” said Carlo, still grinning coldly.
Manfred waved the thought away. “I also know how strongly Benito feels on the matter. He’ll bring his grandfather into line, I’m quite sure of it.”
The prince of Brittany sat up straighter, to give emphasis to his next words. “And I can tell you something else. My uncle—that would be the Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire—is going to be just as adamantly in favor of such an alliance.”
Sforza and Petro Dorma gave him somewhat skeptical looks. “Why so?” asked Sforza. “I’d think…”
Manfred waved his hand again. “That silly ultramontane business? The decrepit ghosts of the Ghibellines? The last thing any sensible emperor wants is to have to rule over disputatious Italians. What we do need is a stable Italy, especially in the north, instead of the constant squabbling we have now.”
Violetta looked fierce again. “He’s right! The way it is, northern Italy’s almost always in a state of warfare. One petty principality trying to aggrandize itself at the expense of its neighbors. The Scaligeri are the worst, but they have plenty of company. Who else but an Italian dynasty would have the symbol of the plague as part of its coat of arms? It’s time to end it!”
Sforza grunted. “Which a quadripartite military alliance between Venice, Tuscany, Milan and Ferrara would certainly do. Even if it’s just a defensive alliance, those four powers would overwhelm any possible opposition.”
“With the two richest Italian provinces included,” mused the Doge, “and the two with Italy’s most respected—and feared, by their enemies—military leaders? Yes, I’d say so.” With a smile that bordered on sly, he added: “We could probably lay claim to having the best navy as well.”
Manfred nodded. “Yes, all that. And not any too soon, either. While you damn Italians have been preoccupied with your own petty quarrels, things in the North and the East have been getting steadily more dangerous. Never forget that the real enemy—of ours, of yours, of all civilized nations—is the demon who rules Lithuania.”
He looked around the room, his brow lowered and his gaze as fierce as Violetta’s. “Chernobog, they call him. The Black Brain.”
Epilogue
Somewhere
Lucia was livid. Someone was going to suffer for this!
What made her particularly furious was that she had no idea who the culprit was. “Someone” was a most unsatisfactory target for an outraged duchess.
She came around another bend in the…what to call it? Corridor? Except it was too wide for a hallway, but too long and narrow to be called a room.
It was all quite infuriating. She hated being lost.
Where was she anyway? For a time, she’d assumed she was in a portion of the cellars that she’d never encountered before. But she’d walked much too far for that to be true. This floor was quite unlike the cobblestones of the cellars. Much drier, too. The one thing to be thankful for.
At least she wasn’t hungry—good thing, for there was nothing to eat.
Someone was going to suffer for this!
Venice
After Mindaug finished his tale, he leaned back in his chair and looked at the three people facing him in chairs of their own. Tamas, his hand still bandaged, but able to walk with a crutch, at least; next to him, a now very pregnant Emma; on his other side, Klaus the bombardier.
The faces of Tamas and Emma were very pale; their expressions, frightened.
Klaus, on the other hand, simply looked pensive. “Explains a lot,” he said. “I always knew you had to be a sorcerer—and a much more powerful one than you’d let on to be.”
Kazimierz turned his head and looked at the two men standing to the side. Those were Archimandrite von Stebbens and Father Thomas Lüber, who’d led the group into this small salon in the Doge’s palace and waited while Mindaug finally told his servants who he really was.
In considerable detail, some of that detail being quite ghastly.
“It’s all true, what he says?” Klaus asked.
Father Lüber nodded. “Yes, it is. Count Mindaug is a very notorious figure, to those knowledgeable about these matters. At one time or another, he was a top advisor to three of the most evil creatures in the world—Grand Duke Jagiellon of Lithuania, Countess Elizabeth Bartholdy and King Emeric of Hungary.”
Then Father Lüber shrugged. “As for his claims that he had few choices when it came to his past, I am inclined to agree with him. Growing up as a high nobleman in the realm ruled by Jagiellon—it’s true, by the way, that he’s a demon under the surface—is…” He shook his head. “Horrible to contemplate.”
Von Stebbens cleared his throat. “And it’s also true that when Mindaug came into the West, he began making different choices. Sometimes quite different.”
The archimandrite gave the three servants a considering gaze, especially Tamas and Emma. “That was what puzzled us the most as we spied on him. How had he managed to hide his true nature from such as you? We had thought that to be impossible. For a time—quite some time, being truthful—that led us to be suspicious of you as well.”
Tamas and Emma looked at each other. “Us?” asked Emma, practically squeaking. “What did we do?”
“Nothing,” replied Von Stebbens. “That was the puzzle.”
Klaus spoke up again. “So what do you think?” he asked, looking up at the archimandrite and the priest. “What do you think we should do?”
Von Stebbens and Lüber glanced at each other. The archimandrite opened his mouth, closed it. A moment later, the priest did the same.
The bombardier chuckled. “Let me rephrase the question: what do you want us to do?”
Von Stebbens looked distinctly relieved. “We’d like you to accept the count’s offer. Resume your positions with him.”
“Back at the villa in Val di Castellazzo,” Lüber added. “We’re going to rebuild it completely.”
“Why?” asked the bombardier.
Again, Von Stebbens and Lüber exchanged a glance. “Because we think you’re a good influence on him,” said the priest.
Von Stebbens spoke next, his tone very solemn. “Listen, Klaus. And you two as well, Emma and Tamas—especially you two. We’ve come to the conclusion that despite his past, Count Mindaug is not actually an evil man. He’s not a good man, either—but he clearly has a personal attachment to you. We’re facing some terrible times ahead, and we’d rather have Mindaug on our side if it’s possible.”
“And you’ll be a help in that,” said Lüber. He glanced at Mindaug, whose head was lowered. “I think he’d agree on this—you’re good for him.”
“Yes,” said Mindaug, murmuring the word. “And I would miss you greatly.”
Hearing that, Emma took a deep breath and sat up straight. “All right, then.”
“Yes,” said Tamas. “All right, then.”
* * *
Petro Dorma made a face. “I have to admit, I’m glad Mindaug will be living in Milanese territory. I’d really be quite uncomfortable having him close to Venice.”
Manfred grinned. “You have such a pessimistic way of looking at things.”
The Doge frowned. “Please explain how there could be an optimistic way of contemplating Count Mindaug as an ally.”
“Isn’t it obvious? I think having someone so close to the line of succession in Lithuania—Hungary, too, you know—might prove to be very handy in the time to come.”
Arona
After Von Stebbens and the contingent of knights he’d brought with him set up their watch inside the castle near Arona, the Aemiline monk Brother Dimitrios arrived. He had been asked to come by the archimandrite, to see if he could assist them.
“Are you quite sure you understand the situation?” asked Von Stebbens sternly.
In contrast to the archimandrite’s dour view of the situation, Dimitrios seemed quite cheerful. “Oh, yes,” he said. “I’m quite confident I can maintain a watch on Orkise without having to go down into the cellar where the great serpent dwells—and without
the monster even being aware of my presence. That’s obviously not something you and the knights could do.”
* * *
Later that afternoon, the monk set up his mat and wards, lay down and closed his eyes.
“What ‘little friends’ do you expect to find down there?” Von Stebbens asks.
“Oh, there are bound to be lots of rats.”
“Rats? You must be joking!”
“Oh, no. Rats are a much-maligned lot, I’m afraid. They’re certainly not harmless, but they’re really quite innocent little souls.”
* * *
Eventually, Dimitrios came out of his trance, and his eyes opened.
“Well?” demanded Von Stebbens.
The Aemiline monk smiled serenely. “I’d say that is one very unhappy wyrm. The rats are getting quite annoyed with its surly and cranky behavior. Nothing they can do about the situation, of course.” He sat up, shaking his head. “Have you ever considered what a rat’s life is like, Archimandrite?”
“No.” Von Stebbens held up a firm hand. “And I don’t want to know. This time I’ll just take your word for it.”
Venice
When she awoke, Violetta saw that Carlo was propped up on an elbow in the bed, looking down on her. His gaze combined satiety and a great deal of affection.
They were both naked.
“I’m surprised,” Sforza said, smiling. “I would have thought you’d insist on waiting until after the wedding.”
Violetta shook her head. “I’m very curious by nature. I wanted to find out finally what it’s like, not being a maiden any longer. And I saw no reason to wait. It’s not as if there’s any chance you were planning to seduce and abandon me.”
Sforza chuckled. “Well, that’s certainly true.”
She smiled back at him. “It was very nice, Carlo. And here I thought conversation would be our only source of entertainment! Who but a virgin would be that uninformed?”
She rolled toward him, sliding a bare leg over his abdomen. “Francisco assured me that you’re still quite vigorous, despite your advanced years. It’d be nice if you could prove him right. Again.”
After a while—a very short while—she added: “Now, O great condottiere.”
Cast of Characters
Aidoneus: God of the dead.
Borghetti: Milanese captain; in command of the siege of Terdona.
Bortai: Mongol princess.
Chernobog: A demon; the “Black Brain.”
Da Corregio, Umberto: Duke of Parma.
De’ Medici, Cosimo: Duke of Tuscany.
De’ Medici, Violetta: Niece of Duke Cosimo.
Dell’este, Enrico: Duke of Ferrara: “The Old Fox,” Grandfather to Benito and Marco Valdosta.
Del Maino, Lucia Maria: Illegitimate daughter of Filippo Maria Visconti, the duke of Milan overthrown by Carlo Sforza; later, married to Sforza.
Dimitrios: Hesychast of the Aemiline monastic order.
Dorma, Petro: Doge of Venice.
Emma: Servant of Count Mindaug.
Hakkonsen, Erik: Icelander; bodyguard to Prince Manfred.
Hohenstauffen, Charles Fredrik: Holy Roman Emperor.
Jagiellon: Grand Duke of Lithuania; possessed by the demon Chernobog.
Klaus: Bombardier; assistant to Count Mindaug.
Laglissio: Milanese count; courtier in service to Duchess Lucia.
Laurin: Dwarf, master of a magical rose garden.
Lüber, Father Thomas: Priest, advisor to Patriarch Michael.
Malatesta, Andrea: Count of Sogliano al Rubicone, Lord of Rimini, Forli, Cesena, Pesaro, Marquis of Ravenna, and Protector of Romagna.
Manfred, Prince: Earl of Carnac, Marquis of Rennes, Baron of Ravensburg; nephew of the Holy Roman Emperor Charles Fredrik.
Michael: Patriarch of Venice.
Mindaug, Kazimierz: Lithuanian count, former advisor to Jagiellon.
Montescue, Lodovico: Head of House Montescue.
Pagano, Lippi: Viscount of Imola.
Rhene: Nyx, courier for Francisco Turner and Marco Valdosta.
Sforza, Carlo: Condottiere, usurper of ducal power in Milan. “The Wolf of the North.” Benito’s father.
Tamas: Servant of Count Mindaug.
Turner, Francisco: Doctor; soldier; chief advisor to Carlo Sforza; friend of Marco Valdosta.
Valdosta, Benito: Grandson of the Duke of Ferrara; illegitimate son of Carlo Sforza.
Valdosta, Katerina: Wife of Marco Valdosta.
Valdosta, Marco: Grandson of the Duke of Ferrara; Benito’s half-brother; the embodiment of the Winged Lion of St. Mark.
Verrier, Maria: Former canaler, married to Benito Valdosta.
Verrier, Alessia: Daughter of Maria and Benito.
Visconti, Filippo Maria: Former Duke of Milan; overthrown and killed by Carlo Sforza. Father of Lucia Maria del Maino.
Von Stebbens, Klaus: Archimandrite of the Knights of the Holy Trinity.