‘Not in Venetian law. It would have been more serious if she had been a young girl…’
‘Or one of the noble ladies?’
‘Exactly. He was fined and so justice was seen to be done.’
‘But Rado does not think so. And he was provoked. You saw as well.’
‘True, but nothing can come of bearing witness. Venetian law is strict, especially when it concerns a worker who attacks an official, let alone a noble. That is a serious crime.’
‘That Trevior is a snake, a slug. He is not fit to live.’
‘Do not say this to anyone else, cariad,’ he said, urgently. ‘It is not safe. Better we leave as soon as possible.’ He looked at her. ‘Perhaps I should teach you how to defend yourself against these young nobles.’
Unexpectedly, she grinned. ‘There is no need. Before we left Attaleia, Blue told me what I must do. He showed me how to hit where it hurts men most.’
‘Did he indeed?’
‘Like a felled ox, he said, even for a man his size. I wish I had known this when that donkey Veçdet and Big Aziz captured Niko and me.’
‘You never fail to surprise me, cariad. I hope you will not practise on me. And I trust you will not tell the icy Elizabeta.’ He grinned. ‘Though I’d give a lot to see her face if you did. Come, I am hungry and dirty and you and Agathi should not be here in company with all these men. You will shock all of Venezia, cariad. Time you were in your own quarters.’
She pulled a face. ‘It is dull there. The women talk of clothes and conquests.’
‘All the same, go. There’s a group of merchants leaving for the north. If they leave tomorrow we should try to leave with them. Could you be ready?’
‘Of course. I shall be glad to leave this place.’ Where nothing is as it seems, she thought. Here, I can trust nothing.
‘Take this.’ She stared down at the object he held out to her. It gleamed in the lamplight.
‘What is it?’
‘A trinket to wear with your fine new feathers, my peacock.’
She felt the coolness of metal, gazed at the round of bracelet cunningly worked in twists of gold and silver and copper, recognised the workmanship of the country she had left behind. ‘For me?’
‘Of course for you. Come – take it.’
‘I shall treasure it always, Dafydd. It is a beautiful gift.’
He grunted. ‘Now nosda, fy nghariad. Go.’
He watched her pause by Agathi’s side, saw the long look Agathi and Edgar exchanged, and sighed. He watched both girls leave the room to a male chorus of regrets, then beckoned to Giles and Edgar.
‘Where is Rémi?’
‘Gone to check on the horses. He should be back soon.’
‘Is there a problem, Dai?’
‘I don’t know, bach. I hope not.’ He waited until he had been served with wine and a platter of steaming clams. For once he was uncaring what he ate, as long as he filled his belly. It had been a long, hard day. ‘Best we leave as soon as possible, all the same.’
‘With the German merchants?’
Dai nodded. ‘And they have two women in their party.’
‘What’s happened?’ Giles asked. Dai looked about him. They were in a shadowy corner and no one within earshot. ‘The glass-maker I’ve traded with before, Pietro da Silvano; he was arrested early this autumn. Heinrijc wrote to warn me that he was accused of betraying the secrets of glass making. It is a very serious crime in this city.’
‘Go on.’
‘Today I went to the island of Murano to find out the truth.’ Dai remembered the averted faces, the silence, the hard looks. A beggar tugged at his sleeve, a hunched, fetid, hooded creature whining for alms. Dai palmed money into the man’s filthy hand. The beggar mumbled his thanks. He tugged on Dai’s sleeve again. ‘The basilica,’ he muttered, ‘of holy Maria and Donato the dragon slayer. I can tell you what you want to know.’ Instinct warned him to go as quietly as possible to this ancient basilica, all dark red brick, on the side of a canal.
‘He was imprisoned while the Ten made their inquisito,’ Dai told them. ‘Da Silvano was found guilty. There was too much evidence against him and no one dared speak in his defence. They were all too frightened. The beggar said men came to threaten them and their families if they spoke for him. He didn’t know who had set them on.’ He was grim faced. ‘It is unthinkable that he should have been found guilty. Da Silvano was known as an honest man, a man of great honour. ‘
‘Was?’
‘He was executed last week – the two men hanging in the Piazzetta of San Marco were his men, and found guilty with him.’
‘What happened to him?’
‘Oh, an honourable death,’ Dai said. ‘He comes of a noble family and to save the honour of the name he was taken by boat into the lagoon and drowned.’
‘May God rest his soul,’ said Edgar. He was profoundly shocked by the contradictions in this sea-city, a city where it was accepted sport for the young noble men to invade the nunneries and monasteries and cause havoc. A fine, a minimal fine, Thomas had told them. No wonder this city had been excommunicated.
‘Da Silvano’s young nephew has vanished. They still search for him, and for da Silvano’s contacts: I am one of them. You must leave as soon as possible, get Agathi and Kazan to safety.’
‘I for one will be glad to leave,’ said Giles. ‘Give me the open spaces of Anatolia any day. Too much gossip and secrecy here for my liking. It seems to me any man can be accused behind his back, whatever the law states. Anonymous letters burnt unread? I don’t believe it. Word of mouth straight to the inner ear more like.’ He screwed up his face at Dai’s warning glance. ‘I know. Crime of Speech.’ He thrust out his tongue and mimed cutting it off. Edgar shuddered.
‘Settled then? We leave tomorrow?’
He didn’t tell them the secret he had uncovered, there in the shadows of the basilica, how he had spoken with a hunched, ragged old man who had the rounded arm and supple hand of a young man and a face he recognised. And behind them, the relics of the dragon slain by Donato.
3
He stopped attentive, like a man who listens,
Because the eye could not conduct him far
Through the black air, and through the heavy fog.
(Inferno, Canto 1X, Dante Alighieri: 1265 – 1321)
It was only when she and Agathi had reached the women’s quarters that Kazan realised she had not told him of the man Giotto and her grandfather’s likeness that they would see in Padova. Time enough. Tonight, he was tired and hungry and, she thought, downcast. She remembered guiltily that she had not asked him about his own day. The only other occupants were the two German women, already in the bed they all shared, and sleeping. One snored quietly; the other, Kazan knew, later in the night would grind her teeth. The girls were about to undress each other, take off the beautiful gowns and prepare for bed, when there was a discreet tap at the door of the sleeping chamber. A dimpled, blushing maidservant stood there.
‘There’s a young man wishes speech with you, siorina,’ she whispered.
‘A young man? What is his name?’ Kazan’s heart lurched. It could not be Rado. He would not do anything so dangerous.
‘He did not want to give it but I know him from childhood. It is Rizo, the curly-haired sailor.’ She flicked curious eyes at the small foreign girl who looked so beautiful in her new gown. A romance here, she thought, and felt sorry for the quiet brown man. ‘What shall I tell him, siorina?’
‘Nothing. I’ll come myself.’
‘He says be very quiet.’
Kazan glanced at Agathi, raised her eyebrows. Agathi said, ‘Should you do this, Kazan? Meet with Rizo at night, and alone?’
‘He means me no harm. He may have news.’
She walked quietly down the steps to the courtyard. It was shadowy, deserted, the arches black. For a moment it seemed she was back in Attaleia and her heart raced. ‘Rizo?’ she breathed.
A dark shadow detached itself from one of the pilla
rs inside the covered way.
‘Is that really you, siorina Kazan?’
‘It is – in new feathers, but Kazan for all that. Why are you here and like this?’
‘I have news. There is danger for sior Davide.’ He jerked his head towards the busy, noisy men’s quarters. ‘It is too crowded in there. I must not be seen talking with him.’ A burst of laughter and the start of drunken singing. A bawdy song.
She drew a breath, kept her voice calm and quiet. ‘Tell me.’
‘Marco Trevior’s father is to lay an accusation against sior Davide tomorrow. He will accuse sior Davide of setting Rado on to assassinate his son. He says he has evidence.’
‘What evidence can he have? Such an accusation is not true!’
‘Rado took sior Davide into his confidence.’
‘I know only that they spoke together.’
‘That’s it. They were seen. Marco has spies everywhere. He says they were conspiring against him. That is not all. He says also that sior Davide was part of the conspiracy to betray the glass-making secrets of Murano. He knows that sior Davide was at Murano today asking about da Silvano.’
‘I know nothing of this.’ Da Silvano. Where had she heard that name? She looked up at Rizo’s face. It was in deep shadow. She could see only the whites of his eyes gleaming in the dark. ‘How do you know all this?’
‘I have a cousin who is employed in the ca’Trevior. He heard the father talking with the son. When my cousin heard the names of Radovan and sior Davide he listened.’ She felt him shrug. ‘This is how it happens in Venezia. The street urchins know the name of a new doge before it is announced. He came to me as soon as he could and now I come to you. You must warn sior Davide.’
She nodded. ‘What of Rado?’
‘He is safe, siorina. We shall get him away tonight. He is not a murderer but for the attack on a noble, an attack that drew blood…’ he shrugged. ‘His hand cut off, perhaps two years in prison. He will be banished from Venezia for sure, so it is better he goes now and keeps his hand and his freedom. It is my belief sior Davide should come away with us, out of danger.’
She stared at him in the darkness, her head spinning and bile gripping her stomach. Dafydd in danger? Her hands clutched his. His grip tightened on hers. ‘Listen! There is someone…’
‘Indeed there is now, Rizo. This is not what I expected of you. It is Kazan’s reputation you put at risk, meeting her alone like this, at night, in a deserted place.’
Dai’s voice was cold, quiet, level. He couldn’t believe it when the returning Rémi had signed to him that he had seen Rizo waiting in the courtyard, that Kazan – Kazan! – was hurrying to meet him. He had come down the stairs quietly, unobtrusively, swallowing his jealousy and anger though it choked him to see them there, clasping hands, murmuring together. He wanted to kill this curly-haired Venetian sailor.
Rizo had released her hands at the first words. ‘I know what you are thinking, sior Davide, but you are mistaken…’
She brushed aside the words of both men, didn’t register, as Rizo had, the aggressive stance of the man he had recognised in Attaleia as dangerous.
‘Dafydd, he says you are in danger. Let him tell you quickly but be quiet. We must not be seen or heard.’ And Kazan, who never cried, who had braved so many dangers, who was indomitable, leaned against his body searching for comfort. He felt her trembling, saw her hand come up to scrub away tears. His arm came round her, pulling her hard against him.
‘What is this? What have you told her?’
So Rizo told his story again. He finished, ‘I could not come to you in a crowded room, sior. I know I am wrong to speak so with the siorina but I did not know what else to do.’
‘He risks his life, Dafydd.’
‘They know I went to Murano today?’
‘Si, sior. Spies everywhere.’
Had they seen him meet with the beggar? He prayed they had not.
‘They said no one in Murano would talk with you, sior, because you are known as a traitor to Venezia.’
‘AndI was seen talking with Radovan?’
‘In Spalato, by those who are loyal to Marco Trevior.’
‘Damning evidence, then?’
‘It would seem so, sior.’
‘Is Radovan safe?’
‘Yes, sior. We keep him hidden.’
‘His sister and mother?’
‘Safe also. I shall take care of them. I shall marry Bianca and take them both away from this city. Radovan we shall get away to safety this night.’ Rizo was very serious. ‘You should go with him, sior. You should go now, at once.’
‘Tomorrow, Rizo. I must make arrangements.’
‘Go now, Dafydd. Please. I beg you.’
‘Tomorrow, Rizo.’
‘As you wish, sior. Tomorrow.’
‘There is the curfew, Rizo, and the custodi.’
‘So there is, sior,’ he said, blandly, and then he had slipped away into the shadows.
‘Do not cry, cariad. All will be well.’
‘I am not crying.’ She drew a shaky breath. ‘A little at first but not now. What must we do?’
‘You and Agathi and Giles and Rémi and Edgar will leave tomorrow for Ieper.’
‘What about you?’
‘Better for me to be alone, cariad.’
‘Safer, you mean?’
He hesitated. ‘Safer, yes.’
‘Then I shall do as you say.’
‘Does Agathi know you came to meet Rizo?’
‘Yes. She will be anxious.’
‘Then you must go back to her now. The German women…’
‘They are asleep. They know nothing.’
‘Good. Best they don’t.’ He shook his head. ‘You should not have come to meet him, Kazan.’
‘What else could I do? I knew he would only come at this hour if it was something very important. I thought he would have news of Rado.’ She looked at him in her candid way. ‘What would you have us do, Agathi and me?’
‘Go to bed, Sleep. Be ready to leave early in the morning.’
‘And you?’
‘I must talk with Giles and Edgar. And Rémi.’ He sighed. Rémi would be difficult. They had always been together, ever since Dai had found him begging on the streets of Ieper with his hare’s lip distorting his face and making eating and drinking all but impossible. ‘He must go with you, Kazan. You must make sure he understands.’
‘I shall do so. You must not worry.’
‘Good girl. Come – you must leave tomorrow, early.’
Black night. Black water. The smell of algae and seaweed was heightened at night. Sounds were amplified. Water was lap-lapping and slapping against stone. Deep, dark, threatening water. This is where you came from, city, remember that. I can return you to the deeps whenever I choose.
The narrow streets funnelled sounds. Footfalls. Voices echoing. Three drunken figures stumbled into view, German, from the sound of their obscenities and snatches of bawdy song. They were out well after curfew. The maze of streets reminded Dai of the maze he had seen drawn on the great Mappa Mundi that was housed in Hereford’s cathedral. So many calli criss-crossing each other, and then a dead end, or a bridge over a narrow canal. He had lost track of the route Rizo was taking, except that it was towards the northern sestiere of Cannaregio. It was where many of the workers lived, away from the upper sweep of the Canalazzo and the grand houses, in mud and straw hovels on land that had been drained many years before but where there were reed beds still. It was here they would hide, where hard-won land gave way to water, where Sanuto would bring the boat.
They were still far from safety, close to one of the great rio that drained the area, when Rizo’s hand came down on his arm. He jerked his head towards a narrow entry. Two custodi of the Signori di Notte were heading towards them. The three drunken Germans wandered aimlessly into view, rowdy, shouting abuse. Rizo and Dai heard the warning: ‘You have already been warned this is not the time to be out of doors, signori. If you do not g
o home you could go to jail.’ One of the custodi raised asheathed sword in warning. In answer, there was a stone flung so hard that the man it hit fell backwards clutching his head and shouting with pain. The second custodi chased after the stone-thrower.
‘Let’s get away from here,’ said Rizo. ‘This could finish badly for someone.’
They edged out of their hiding place and into the shadows of the calle. Behind them came a cry of pain, an alarmed shout, a splash.
‘We must not interfere in this,’ Rizo whispered. ‘The custodi make searches for illegal weapons. If they stop us, we shall be arrested as well as these drunken fools.’ Dai thought of the falchion knocking against his side, the broad bladed dagger he carried, and grimly acknowledged the truth of this. He remembered what Rizo had also said: ‘Sanuto and me, we shall be called as witnesses but there are those who will bear witness against us, those who are in the pay of Marco Trevior and his family. It will go hard against us, sior.’
Dai remembered the two forlorn creatures hanging between the pillars of the piazza. ‘You think torture, now?’
‘That is possible, sior.’
‘Best leave, then.’
‘That is my thought also, sior, though it distresses me not to speak out in your defence.’
‘No matter, Rizo. You have risked everything to help me and Rado.’
No, best leave her, make sure she was away to safety, take shelter until he knew the lie of the land.
Leaving. What is that? While the heart remembers, there is no leaving.
It was what she had said, facing him, those gold-flecked eyeson his. ‘My Nene said this. It is truth, Dafydd.’ And all the time her heart had cried out the other truth. What was it then that tore my heart and soul? Who can tell, girl? When you feel this, then you will feel love and you will give your heart and soul and life for your beloved. This was her beloved, she knew it now; his life mattered more than her own. She would in truth give her heart and soul and life for him but it would do him no good. Now, he must leave, hide, escape to save his life.
‘Keep safe, cariad. Go with God.’
‘Keep safe, my dearest friend. Go with God.’
‘Giles…’
‘I shall take good care of her, Dai, of them all.’
The Heart Remembers Page 5