She tried her best to put on a cold face, but his incessant optimism and good cheer made her smile. “Tonight I feel very lucky,” he said.
“Do you believe in luck?” she asked.
“Everyone believes in luck,” he said, “when there is a chance to win one’s heart’s desire. Only afterwards do we convince ourselves that if we obtained it, it was only due to our talents. If we do not obtain it, however, then that could only have been because of bad luck, or the cruel whim of fate.”
“Then you certainly believe in bad luck,” she said.
“Up until tonight,” he said.
“My, how confident you are,” she teased.
“Your presence fills me with confidence,” he said.
As the handmaiden served them, Isabella could not help noticing that she fussed over Giannetto, leaning a little too close to him, and she also seemed to be wearing a rather low-cut dress tonight. And did she touch Giannetto with her breasts as she served him? Despite herself she found a small shoot of jealousy fill her when Giannetto turned and joked with the handmaiden.
“So tell me what you will do if you fail me again tonight?” she demanded, drawing his attention back to her.
“Does this meal satisfy you?” he asked.
“Yes it does,” she said.
“And does our conversation satisfy you?”
She inclined her head a little and then said, “Yes, it does.”
“Then I hope to complete the evening by satisfying you in other ways too.”
She saw the grin on her handmaiden’s face as she turned and scuttled out of the room. “You are very bold to talk of such matters.”
“I meant you would be satisfied by my company,” he said. “Did you presume I meant our successful voyages and explorations in the bedchamber tonight?”
Now she could not hide a smile.
“I am an elder woman,” she said. “I have voyaged and explored much. Are you sure you could show me new places that I have never visited?”
“I may be younger,” he said. “But I am very adventurous and I have read many maps and heard stories of far away exotic lands that I think prepare me well for any such explorations.”
“What if I told you that no matter how exotic the lands you took me to, I had visited lands more exotic and wondrous?”
“Then I would ask you to take us both to them,” he said. “For I am sure you would long to revisit them once more.”
She fixed him with a stare. “Your confidence belies your successes to date.”
“It is my successes tonight that I am confident in,” he said.
Isabella found it hard to bring the meal to an end, but the evening was getting late, and the handmaiden kept interrupting them, saying, “I have prepared your chamber, my lady.” And, “Is there anything else I can fetch you, my lady?” Finally she turned to her and said, “Thank you. It is time for us to retire for the evening. Just a final glass of wine before we go. Please fetch the best wine, which we have saved until last.”
The handmaiden fetched the wine at once and poured both her mistress and Giannetto a cup, but Isabella said, “I need to excuse myself. Please drink yours and I will meet you in the bedchamber.” He raised his cup to her and drank. “As is your wish,” he said.
She left the room and went to one of her smaller rooms while Nerissa led Giannetto to her bedchamber once more, knowing he would again take off his clothes, climb into bed and wait for her. And she found herself looking forward to the sight of his naked sleeping body again.
She sighed. She would have to put an end to all this nonsense. This would be the last evening. She would find another way to rid herself of the besieging fleet that wished to bed and wed her.
After a suitable time had passed, Isabella rose and went to her bedchamber. Her handmaiden stood at the door. “Is there anything else, my lady?” she asked.
“That will be all.”
“Yes, my lady.” The handmaiden hurried away, as if she had somewhere very important to be.
Isabella entered the chamber and closed the door. Once more Giannetto was lying in the bed, fast asleep. She walked across to him and held her candle over his body. His member was quite erect in vain anticipation, and she felt a sudden impulse to reach out and touch it. Just to softly encircle it with her fingers and feel it move under her grasp. Instead she reached out and touched his arm. He was well muscled and she found it pleasurable to place her fingers on his skin.
She gave the softest of sighs and placed the candle on the bedside table. Then she took off her gown and slipped into bed alongside the sleeping Giannetto. She lay there a moment, and could suddenly not resist lifting herself up and leaning over him. And then, it may have been the wine or the conversation or some other urge she was uncertain of, but she kissed him lightly on the lips.
To her surprise his eyes opened. And his arms softly encircled her, and he pulled her back towards him, kissing her this time.
She wanted to pull away. To resist his slow embrace. To demand to know how he was not asleep. But she let him kiss her and then again. “How?” was all she said, between deep warm kisses, as he ran his hands across her bare back.
“Shhh,” he said, and slowly pushed her onto her back, letting his kisses work their way down her body. And then a second surprise, when she found just how very, very ready her body was for a new lover.
LX
ELSEWHERE IN THE FLOATING CITY
The Shadow Master didn’t even see the hand coming until it was near his throat. He froze as it came to rest at the base of his neck, his hands already at his blades. But he didn’t draw them. Anybody who could move so swiftly and so silently needed to be treated with extreme caution.
The Othmen envoy stepped fully out of the shadows and slid her hand up to his face. She squeezed the cheeks and asked, “Why does your face seem familiar to me?”
The Shadow Master turned his head away, but she kept her hand on him. “I’m sorry, signora, I don’t believe we have been introduced.”
“Not many people can move through these decadent streets as silently and unseen as you do,” she said to him. “So I thought to myself, I should get to know this man a little better.”
“This is a city where being silent and unseen is a virtue,” he said, turning his head back to get a better look at her. She was as tall as him, and had a face so beautiful one longed to stare at it, like staring at the sun. But he knew that was a trap too, and moved his eyes quickly to look for her left hand. It was half hidden in a cloak.
“So I have heard,” she said, drawing a little closer to him. “Which is why I find it much more interesting to observe who walks along these quiet underpasses and alleys than the main thoroughfares.” They were on a thin path by one of the canals under a bridge. “And my first thought was that a man who is being so careful not to be heard or seen must have a secret worth knowing.”
The Shadow Master tried to twist his face out of her hold, but was surprised at how strong her grip was. “Everybody in this city has secrets,” he said. “But what makes you think anybody is willing to share them?”
“For the right price, or the right reward, I have found there are few secrets.”
“Then you haven’t been in this city long enough,” he said. “There are some secrets that lie within the very stones of the buildings that will not be released for any price.”
“Hmm,” she said, now bringing her left hand up, and running it along his forearm. Feeling his muscles or searching for weapons?
“Is that why the Othmen want to take the city apart stone by stone?” he asked.
She stepped in closer still. The Shadow Master kept his eyes moving, from her eyes to her hands. This was the moment of most danger. He tightened his fingers on his sword hilts and saw the slight grin on her face. She felt the movement in his forearm. Knew just when he would move. So he did not move. He just stood there.
“There are so many secrets,” she said, leaning her face in close to his, her lips almo
st touching his, “about you that I’d like to know.”
“Such as?” he asked.
“Aha,” she mocked. “That has to remain my secret.” Then she pressed her lips to his. Tightly. He tensed. The air around them seemed suddenly devoid of oxygen, replaced by something light and flammable, reading to ignite at the slightest spark. She took her time and then drew her head back from the kiss. He remained immobile. And now her confidence seemed to drop just a little.
“Who are you, man of shadows?” she asked.
“A stranger,” he said.
“But are you my enemy?”
“Am I yours?”
“I don’t know yet,” she said. Then she pushed him back a little. He let her, and took one step backwards. But no more.
“I will be keeping an eye out for you,” she said.
“And I you,” he replied, knowing the shadows of this city had just become much more dangerous.
He stepped back from her slowly, not turning around until he was quite some distance away, and at a corner where he could put some cover between them. She was as likely to fire a weapon at him as she was to blow him a mocking kiss, and he did not want either.
The Othmen envoy waited until he was gone, smiled to herself and then lifted her left hand from within her cloak to examine the kerchief with embroidered strawberries on it. He would not be happy when he found it missing, she knew, and he would be quite an adversary when he decided against her. But to her surprise she was holding an old rag.
“How did he do that?” she mumbled, through gritted teeth.
LXI
THE STORY OF GIULIETTA
“It’s all going to be all right,” Friar Lorenzo da San Francesco said once again. But Giulietta did not believe him. She kept her head buried in her pillow and muttered something that the friar could not make out, but it sounded to him like she wanted to die.
“Listen,” he said, lowering his voice. “I have a special message for you from Romeo.”
Her sobbing stopped at once and she slowly lifted her head from her pillow. “You know Romeo?” she asked.
“I was going to marry you both,” he said.
She now turned to consider him closely. This thin pale beggar of a friar who her parents would never have let into the house had he not said he had heard of her ailment and believed he could cure her of it. For she had taken to her bed and refused to eat and drink – except for garlic snails and truffles with sweet wine – when she had heard that Romeo was banished from the city.
Her parents had tried everything to get her to stop crying into her pillows and to tell them the cause of her misery, but whenever they came into her room, bearing threats or bribery, she simply cried louder. They were beside themselves. This was extraordinary behaviour – even for Giulietta.
They had summoned a doctor, an astrologer and were considering summoning her sisters to see if they could get any sense from her, when the thin and straggly friar arrived on their doorstep.
“How do you know our daughter?” Signor Montecchi asked him haughtily, looking over his poorly-kept robes, as if addressing a travelling charlatan who had promised to make him young and virile again.
“Through a mutual anonymous friend, who has asked me to intercede,” he said and turned his head a little, listening to the wailing echoing through the palazzo from an upstairs bedroom. “But if you do not wish my services, then I shall leave you in – uh – peace.”
“Not so hasty,” Signora Montecchi said. “We didn’t say we do not wish your services, we just need to be certain about your credentials. You understand of course.”
“Of course,” he said and bowed.
They regarded each other for a moment and then the friar said, “It won’t take but a moment. If you would perhaps fetch her downstairs.”
“She will not come,” said Signora Montecchi. “We have had to escort the doctors up to her very bedchamber.”
The friar frowned. “Ah,” he said.
“Is that a problem?” Signora Montecchi asked.
“I can alleviate her distress, but it must be done in private.”
Signor Montecchi puffed up like a defensive caged bird. “I cannot of course allow that,” he said.
The friar bowed again. “As you wish. Then I shall leave you in – uh…” He turned his head again to listen to the wailing.
Signora Montecchi glared at her husband and said, “What if we found a chaperone?”
“I would rather that she did not overhear my words,” said the friar, wringing his hands. “It can be delicate, you see.”
“But what if she were deaf?” asked Signora Montecchi. “One of our old housemaids, Estella, is quite deaf.”
The friar considered this like they were bartering over a sale of some kind and then said, “I think that will be sufficient, if that meets your husband’s approval?” He turned to look at Signor Montecchi, who was about to refuse the offer as unprecedented, when the distant wail increased in volume and he considered how many more nights with no sleep he might need to endure. “All right,” he said, his puffed-up chest deflating.
So the friar, accompanied by Estella, was led to Giulietta’s bedchamber and after knocking and being ignored, he let himself in. She had continued to ignore him for most of his allotted short time, until he mentioned Romeo’s name in a soft voice. Now he had her full attention and stood looking into the tear-soaked face of a girl much younger than he had supposed, with a fierce determined fire in her eyes. Good, he thought. She would need that.
“Tell me, does he send me his love?” she demanded.
“Uh – yes,” the friar said, signalling her to keep her voice down. “He does.”
“Tell me his exact words,” Giulietta said.
“He sends you his love,” said the friar quickly. “Now you must listen carefully. We have a plan.”
“A plan!” she said and clapped her hands together. “Tell me, tell me.”
“Yes, yes,” said the friar, stepping closer and holding out a hand to her, taking one of her hands in his. She felt him squeeze it. Felt a tingling. Felt his closeness. Looked up into his eyes and felt as if he was mesmerizing her somehow. “You will not fear any danger,” he said, “for you know that Romeo and I are only thinking of your safety and happiness.” His voice had changed. Become deeper. And soothing in some way. She wanted him to keep talking. Keep promising her things.
“Yes,” she said. “My safety and happiness.”
“True love can overcome any adversity,” he said. “And you are driven by true love, are you not?”
“Yes,” she said. “We are.”
“Good,” he said. “Good. Then no harm will come to you.”
“No harm,” she said. There was some enchantment in his words, she felt. This friar had some hidden powers that he was willing to use to make her safe. To protect her. She smiled.
“We have a wonderful plan,” he said. “And you shall play your part in it well, without fear and with complete trust in us.”
“Yes,” she said. “I will.” She would do whatever he asked of her. As long as he kept holding her hand and kept talking to her in that deep sonorous voice.
“Then everything will turn out as it is meant to turn out,” he said. Then he reached into his dirty robes and pulled out two small vials. “Oh,” he said. He looked at them blankly a moment and pulled the cap off one and sniffed it. Then tasted it. “No. The other one.” Then took another taste. He held the vial out to Giulietta, trying to move his body to block Estella from seeing what he was doing. “Definitely this one,” he said, pressing it into her hands.
“What is it?” she asked. “A love potion?”
“Of sorts. It is a rare poison. It makes you appear as if dead.”
Giulietta’s eyes widened.
“But that is a ruse,” said the friar quickly, taking up her hand again, letting his voice play with her. “You will be thought to be dead, but will be very much alive.” Giulietta didn’t say anything. “It lasts about a
day and a night,” he added. “Enough time for your parents to mourn you and then place you in the family crypt on the Isle of Mourning.” He nodded his head, as if that would be enough for her to understand everything.
“I will awaken in the crypt?” she asked, and shivered.
“Yes, and Romeo will be there waiting for you to awaken.” Then, as if suddenly remembering, he said, “I have a letter here to him explaining everything. If you would put your name to it for me, he will know that you know your part in this plan.” He reached into his robe again and pulled out a small piece of parchment and a leaded pencil. She took it and read it over and then scribbled her name on the bottom of the parchment placing a long string of hearts after it.
The friar looked over his shoulder to see what Estella was making of all this, but she seemed to have dozed off standing there, much like a horse is able. He looked back to Giulietta and said, “Wait until midnight before taking the potion and your parents will find you as if dead in the morning.”
She stared at him, feeling tears come to her eyes and she said, “Thank you!” And she pushed the small vial down between her breasts. The friar reddened at the sight of their pale roundness and had to all but tear his gaze away. He turned and bumped into Estella. She glared at him. He smiled. There was a knocking at the door, telling him his time was up.
“You’re a saint,” Giulietta called to him. He bowed and left her room.
After seeing the friar out of their palazzo, Giulietta’s parents hurried up to find her sitting in front of her mirror, practicing how wistful she would look when Romeo found her. They looked at each other and blinked. It was amazing.
And it hadn’t cost them anything!
LXII
ELSEWHERE IN THE FLOATING CITY
“I ask you again,” demanded Signor de Abbacio of the Duca. “What do you plan to do?”
The Floating City Page 21