The Master of Verona

by David Blixt

  Cangrande had insisted they creep into town unseen. Until it was clear that there were no more threats to them, the Scaliger deemed it best to keep their arrival a complete secret. Once Morsicato, singed scalp bandaged, had seen to Katerina's arm, he'd sewn up Pietro as well. The doctor hadn't bled him, deciding Pietro had already bled enough to release any foul elements in his system. Pietro had refused to add any contents to the doctor's jordan, rightly saying he was too parched to produce a drop. But Morsicato had insisted on bringing forth the maggots once more, this time wrapping them into the gash across Pietro's left hand. Recalling how close that cut had come to his face, he tried not to imagine the maggots embedded in his cheek.

  Dante had been granted a set of rooms, and Morsicato had given the poet a sleeping draught. Jacopo was still at the revels by the hillside. Antonia was off with Gianozza somewhere. Bailardino, one of the few who knew of their return to the city, had stopped by briefly to pay his respects, but spent the rest of the time divided between his frightened son and his pregnant, injured wife. Left alone, Pietro had wandered up here, leaning heavily on his bloodied cane.

  He'd heard the news of Lord Montecchio's death with real anguish. By now it was also common knowledge that the girl had been out during the day, and had spoken to Antony. She said she had seen him drop the silver dagger before leaving her. Pietro's sister had confirmed this. So the damning piece of evidence against Antony was now gone. There would be no trial, no execution. Everyone now believed that Pathino had found the knife and used it to steal lord Montecchio's horse.

  Everyone except Mari, of course.

  Bailardino had brought that news back with him. He also brought word that they had found Ferdinando's body. Bonaventura's cousin had never reached Detto's hiding place, but had fallen into the covered pit, the same trap that Mercurio had saved Pietro from entering just minutes earlier. It seemed Ferdinando had survived the fall only to be kicked to death by his thrashing horse. A horrible death.

  It's my fault. Why didn't I warn him about it? I saw it and didn't even think to warn him. My fault…

  Behind him a trapdoor opened and someone climbed the stairs to the roof. Listening to the fall of footsteps he knew precisely who it was. In the shadow of the turret Pietro was invisible, and he decided to stay that way.

  "A lovely night," remarked Cangrande. "How are you feeling?"

  At first Pietro thought the Scaliger was addressing him. Then he heard Katerina's voice. "Tired. My hand will look somewhat like al-Dhaamin's neck."

  Shifting in his shadow, Pietro saw both brother and sister. Even after such a terrible day, even with her hand wrapped in salve and bandages, the lady was as perfect as the very first time Pietro had seen her. She had resumed her usual attire, her gown's hem barely brushing the rooftop. Cangrande too was immaculate in fresh clothes, though his skin was still unnaturally dark.

  "And Bailardino's next son?"

  "The baby should be fine."

  "Regardless, you should be in bed."

  "Morsicato has prescribed complete rest, but that is difficult to achieve with the Count raving like a lunatic in my own chambers."

  "So you came hunting for me."

  "Tharwat kindly offered to sit with the Count and transcribe all his visions, in case there are some portents in the man's dying imagination. Is there any news of Pathino?"

  "Yes, in fact. We traced him to Schio, where he traded Montecchio's horse for another. Another vindication for Capulletto. Pathino seems to be headed for Venice. From there he can take ship to anywhere in the world. We'll try to head him off."

  Pietro wondered if he was going to be sent to hunt Pathino again. It would be easier this time, knowing the man's name. In fact, it could be a good excuse to escape the quarrel between his two friends. That, and the other thing preying on his mind.

  Because he was thinking it, he was startled to hear Cangrande say, "There's something troubling Pietro."

  "I expect he wants to know the same thing I do. Though I doubt he has realized all your perfidies. Shall we begin?"

  Cangrande drew his sword, the sword of his father, and began stroking the edge with a small honing stone. "It isn't fair. You're wounded."

  "My soul, however, has never been more at ease."

  "And if mine is not, that sets us on equal footing?"

  "Your wounds don't show, is all. The time has come for us to have it out."

  Cangrande threw back his head. "A duel! Excellent. As the challenged party, I have the honour of choosing the weapons. I choose Truth."

  "Really? Perhaps I should go fetch Pietro. No doubt he would love to hear something so rare from you."

  "Ah, we might as well begin there. What do you know of spies and what not?"

  The lady's eyebrows arched. "I know you employ informants. These past few months, you are better informed than you used to be."

  Cangrande raised a finger, wagging it in the air. "Ah, but did you ever wonder how I was receiving the information? Through whom?"

  Light dawned. "Pietro." Her voice was grave, and in his shadowy perch Pietro felt a flush of guilt.

  "Pietro," confirmed Cangrande. "You thought we were estranged, and you thought you knew why. But really I'd given him a task, a quest. With Tharwat acting as his eyes, Pietro was to track down the kidnapper."

  "I see. A shame he didn't have all the necessary information. But today you were seen fighting side by side. How will that affect your fictional feud?"

  "We'll say he and I fought together grudgingly, for the sake of your child. It is no secret how fond he is of you. Rather like a puppy." Hearing this, Pietro reddened. "I will rebuke him publicly, and he will return to Ravenna, smarting."

  Pietro sat up straight. He'd thought that, after today, he'd be returning to Verona with all honour restored!

  Katerina said, "I see I shall have to divorce him from you. I had no idea he was so much your creature."

  "As much yours as mine, but that's not to the point. How do you intend the divorce?"

  "What were your orders at Calvatone?"

  Cangrande scowled slightly, laying his sword against the parapet. The lady pointed out, "You made the rules. You chose the weapons. You cannot complain of them now."

  "True, true." Cangrande looked up at the night sky and sighed. "I ordered the town sacked. I ordered every woman and child raped, the men tortured, then all put to the sword. Havoc. That really was my seal."

  "Why?" asked Katerina, echoing Pietro's horrified thought.

  "Oh, it's obvious enough. A reputation for savagery is almost as useful as one of clemency. Ask Caesar. Or better, Sulla."

  "And yet you had your German commanders executed for disobeying you."

  "Yes, well, I couldn't have that sort of thing stain my honour. It's a pity, they were loyal men. Is that all you have, my dear? Perhaps you do require bed rest."

  "Oh, surely you recognize an opening gambit."

  "Testing my walls, looking for a breach? Then you'll set your siege weapons to work?"

  "If necessary. I rather think I'll be able to find a tunnel through. Let's move on to the Moor. You recall that, directly after Cesco came into my care, I summoned al-Dhaamin to produce one of his miraculous charts for us. Upon arriving in Venice, he and Ignazzio were assaulted. Was the Count was responsible for that?"

  "Of course not. Until today the good Bonifacio had no notion of your passion for astrology."

  "Then whom do you suppose set the murderers at the heels of the astrologers?"

  Cangrande shrugged. "There are really only two choices."

  "I doubt your wife knew enough about al-Dhaamin at the time to guess at his coming."

  Cangrande clapped his hands. "Very good! Oh, Kat, I didn't know you had it in you. I will confess. I tried to have them killed."

  Katerina clucked her tongue. "And after Tharwat was so good as to reveal your star chart to you when you came of age."

  "A true ingrate I am."

  "Yet he continues to live. No doubt you'
ve had plenty of opportunities since then."

  "Yes, but once he completed the boy's chart, he could do no more damage. In fact, he's proved useful at times."

  "I'm sure. I move on now to a matter more pressing."

  "Giovanna?"

  "No, not yet. I want to ask about Morsicato. I want to know what really happened on the road between the cave and our carriage."

  Releasing a dark chuckle, for the first time Cangrande seemed unwilling to speak. "You have talent." He took a breath. "I distracted him, then struck him. He thinks I was saving his life."

  "So there were no rogue Paduans?"

  "Don't be absurd. I had to protect Giovanna. At that time I thought he was the only one who knew her trespasses."

  Pietro felt a shiver pass over him. He tried to kill both Tharwat and Morsicato? I don't believe it!

  "And when you discovered that the rest of us suspected her as well, you decided to spare him. I suppose there was little point in his death if we all knew. Though I'm surprised you left him alive in the first place."

  A shrug. "It pays to look ahead."

  "True, foresight has reward. Like tucking loyal young Pietro in Ravenna and keeping him for when you needed him. I wonder how many other little surprises you have in store."

  The Scaliger's eyes were bright, almost glowing. "She is my wife."

  "And I am your sister," said Katerina. "Which is why the doctor lives. You cannot allow Giovanna to be maligned, but neither may you remove me. There was no point in killing Morsicato when all of us knew. But tell me — would you have killed Pietro, if he had been the one to discover it?"

  Pietro leaned forward, exhaustion banished. Cangrande shook his head as if dismissing a fly. But he did not answer.

  "Come, brother! Cane Grande, O Great Hound," mocked Katerina. "It is time to reveal yourself. You play regret and humanity well, but on this night of truth please admit you have neither."

  Cangrande turned away, shoulders hunched. Pietro heard a voice quite unlike the Scaliger's usual measured tones. "Have I none? I suppose you should know. Yes, let the demons out. It is close enough to midsummer." He stared over the rooftops, head cocked to one side. "Of course I would have killed him. His father, too, even if it meant his great epic was never completed. She is my wife. I would kill a hundred of my dearest friends to protect her reputation."

  "Her reputation?" asked Katerina. "Not for love."

  "Caesar's wife must be above suspicion."

  "But you suspected her."

  Cangrande laughed. "More than suspected, I knew! I've known for two long years. It was clear that someone had opened doors of my loggia to allow Pathino to escape. Pietro wondered at the time how Pathino got into the square so quickly."

  He knew even then? He made me think it was the Grand Butler, the man with the keys and access to Cangrande's seal. There was also a woman from whose belt dangled all the keys of the household. Cangrande's wife.

  Katerina gazed at her brother. "And you say that you sent Pietro away to hunt down the kidnapper."

  "Yes."

  "There wasn't another reason?"

  Cangrande's smile grew. "We really must play more often. This is more fun than I could have dreamed."

  "Answer the question."

  "It's true. He posed the one question I could not have asked. Having a decent grasp of the obvious, he would have eventually reached the inevitable conclusion. To throw Giovanna off, I laid the blame on the butler." Cangrande clucked his tongue. "Poor Tullio may never forgive me for his ongoing exile. But I have suffered for my folly. One can never truly replace a really competent steward. At least I salted him away where I can recall him, instead of having him killed — which was my original intention."

  Pietro was shaking. Dear God, what is he saying?

  "Frederick's descendant is well matched in you," agreed Katerina. "So, some time before the Palio, your wife and the Count reached an understanding. But she had to let you know who it was you were really playing against. Is that why she suborned the oracle?"

  "I imagine so. Those were certainly my wife's words the weird woman uttered — or some of them. I remember Giovanna's face during the oration. She seemed genuinely surprised by a few statements. Perhaps the old girl was really divining." Cangrande shrugged as if it was of little consequence to him. "We'll never know. Giovanna's grooms — the same two grooms, by the way, who were so inconsiderate as to die tonight — they took care of her."

  "Turning her head back to front, the price she paid for divining. Poetic irony."

  "Dante would say contrapasso. I recall he'd read that part to the court just the day before."

  "As you said, it's a shame the grooms are no longer with us. But then, Caesar's wife…"

  "Exactly. No witnesses — another good motto. I was slightly worried the one might wake up before the fire killed him. You see, I didn't realize our war was reaching its zenith tonight."

  "And where is your charming wife now? Can Cesco sleep soundly in Detto's room, or will he receive a dagger in the night?"

  "At my request she's at Castello Montecchio, counseling the aggrieved Gianozza. She has no idea we suspect anything. No doubt there is a banker's draft somewhere for her grooms, signed by the Count. She is very thorough, and must have covered herself in case of exposure."

  "She can't be let live. Not after tonight."

  "She is family."

  "But not blood."

  "Perhaps not. Whatever I decide, it will take some time to arrange." Katerina made a very slight curtsy and Cangrande said, "In the spirit of full disclosure, there is something else you should know. There was a reason Pietro never found out too much about Pathino. There was a spy in Pietro's camp."

  Pietro had a terrible sickness in the pit of his stomach. No, not —

  Katerina said, "His groom?"

  "None other. The late Fazio. Recommended by my charming, considerate wife. Alaghieri really can be a fool. But then, that's why I like him. He's so trusting."

  "So Pathino killed him to—"

  "To protect my wife, yes. It was certainly on Bonifacio's orders. Pathino didn't know who the Count's partner was, but the groom did, so he had to go. Then, if Pathino killed the boy and was caught, only the Count would be implicated. If Pathino got away, the child would be gone with him. Either way, Giovanna wins."

  "Her motive, of course, was to clear the path for any heir she might have with you. It is a foolish hope. She's too old."

  "How old are you, dear?"

  Katerina gestured with her good hand at her pregnant belly. "Did I expect this? Or Detto? No. I am blessed by God, but I had given up hope."

  "They say some women grow fertile in the presence of children. Perhaps…"

  "Don't even say it when you know you don't mean it. Cesco wouldn't survive a week."

  "Well, one of them wouldn't. But you're quite right, my wife is too old. At least I am no longer half her age, but a mere score younger, give or take. I was so young when we married, but I think she was lying about her age even then. Still, it is as you say. My aged wife still holds out hope for an heir."

  Katerina took in a satisfied breath. "Well, with that out of the way, we may move on. I notice that so far you have refrained from taking the initiative."

  "I await my moment to break out of my citadel and drive you back."

  "I just didn't want you to think it had gone unremarked." Katerina walked to one side, putting the moon over her shoulder. Thus she could see his face. "We come now to the centerpiece of your board, dear brother. Cesco."

  "Ah, Il Veltro. The star-crossed child. Again Pietro is able to see the painfully obvious. Two fallen stars, not one. So many possibilities. Is he the Greyhound, is he not? Cesco's future is written, but in a language no one knows. Are we clever enough to read it?"

  "Why even try, when you want him dead?"

  "I would never raise a hand to hurt him."

  "No, of course not," mocked Katerina. "Your family is your weakness. You said it yourself. Ou
r father's so-called curse."

  Cangrande took in a short breath. "Sanguis meus."

  "Precisely. He is blood of your blood. So you play the coward and let others spill it for you. The Count, your wife. As long as the blood is not on your hands."

  Cangrande shook his head doggedly. "It isn't that simple, as you're well aware."

  "You knew of the threat. You did nothing."

  "Untrue. I left him with you."

  "Effectively washing your hands."

  "Effectively giving him even odds. But that's what I've never understood about you, Kat. If you believe the prophecy, why be concerned? The true Greyhound will survive, regardless of his situation."

  "You still doubt that he is who he is?"

  "I doubt everything I hear. It's a failing of mine. As for the boy, only time will tell."

  "Yet you allowed the attacks to continue."

  "Yes. Thanks to Pietro and Tharwat, we learned that it was Vinciguerra's purse behind the plot. Pathino was the missing piece. I didn't want to move until I knew who he was. Little did I realize we would discover a long-lost brother."

  "So you let him into my house."

  "No," said Cangrande pointedly, "you let him into your house. It was your duty to protect the child. You failed. It took Pietro to rescue him."

  "I wonder, are you pleased because I failed, or are you enraged because Pietro succeeded?"

  The Capitano returned to where his sword lay. Retrieving the honing stone, he leaned against a turret as he again began working the blade's edge. "Neither. Both. Why would the boy's death please me?"

  Katerina's lips were tight. "You cannot spill blood of your blood, but you can hardly stand to see him, however well you hide it."

  "Any poor skill I have at dissembling I owe to you. But you obviously own the key to my soul, so tell me — why do I detest the child so?"

  "Because you are like Pathino. Because you've always hoped, secretly, in your heart of hearts, that the Moor lied. Until Cesco was born, you could cling to the hope that you were the Greyhound."