“But how will our young people continue their education without you?” one of the councilors asked. “They’ve learned much of great value. You have saved lives.”
“I’ve taught nearly all I know,” Clavell said.
“We would know more,” an elderly Senator said. “We have heard that your—Colonel—has taught the smiths of Drantos to make Great Guns, and gunpowder. We have smiths and foundries better than any in Drantos, and we would know more.” The tone was friendly and the accent was atrocious, but there was no question of what he meant. “Can you not tell us more of those?”
“Excellencies, we were sent by my master Colonel Rick, Warlord of Drantos, to teach public health and the germ theory of disease.” Clavell struggled with the words, which were literal translations of the English but sounded strange in the mainland lingua franca. And they’d be even stranger in Italian. Piccolo animali. Little tiny animals. “I’ve taught what I know to those who will listen, and now I must go teach others.”
“But you know of guns and gunpowder,” the Senator said.
“Senator del Verme does not ask for secrets,” Councilor Avanti said.
“Thank you,” Clavell said. I just bet he doesn’t. “The true word is that I know no secrets. I know about medicine and public health. That’s what I know and what I was sent to teach, and I’ve taught what I know.”
“We understand, but we know there is much more to learn,” Piero Avanti said. “We would know more of the ways of men among the stars, and of the Time to come. We beg you to stay.”
He sounded very earnest.
Clavell frowned slightly. “To be blunt, Signori, there seem to be few interested in what I teach.”
“You misunderstand,” Avanti said. “You have spoken to our physicians. Perhaps they will learn, perhaps they will not! Learned men do not always wish to be taught! But young people are eager to learn. Your students include representatives from our most important professions and guilds. Already our merchants are adopting practices you recommend. Those who do not—they will learn, too! Signor Clavell, the Most Serene Republic does not make sudden changes! We act slowly, and with care to see that what we do does not destroy the serenity of the Republic. Your theories have spread widely and are daily debated among physicians, merchants, and all those who are important to the Serene Republic.” He shrugged. “And you may at any time address the councils of the Signory. You have that opportunity at this moment! What would you have us learn?”
Crap doodle, Clavell thought. Song and dance time.
“Your Excellencies know about the coming Time of Troubles.”
“We have records,” Avanti said. “We see the seas rise, and the Demon in the night sky. We know the stories they tell on Terra Firma, but none of us are star lords. Do you now tell us more?”
“It’s beyond my knowledge,” Clavell said. “But my Colonel knows much more than I do, and he gives that knowledge freely to his friends. He’s established a school, which he calls the University. I am authorized,” Clavell stumbled over the word. “I am permitted to offer half a score of your people places at the University, where they will learn far more than I can teach them. I know little of the knowledge you seek, of astronomy or chemistry or the making of weapons. I am only a soldier who’s gained some medical knowledge, not a scholar. I have no great wisdom. Those at the University know far more and are better teachers.”
“Do they teach the secrets of the Great Guns to everyone?” Senator del Verme asked.
“I haven’t been at the University,” Clavell said. “But my understanding is that there is no secret knowledge. All questions are answered as best they may be.”
“To anyone who asks?” Councilor Avanti demanded.
“To all those properly admitted to the University. And I have that power of admission.”
“All questions freely answered. An odd concept,” Senator del Verme muttered. “Free knowledge?”
“We will eagerly accept your offer,” Councilor Avanti said. “We will choose those who should go. Doubtless you will know some of them already. How shall they proceed once chosen?”
“They will need to travel to the Garioch, or perhaps to Edron,” Clavell said. “The war will have made this more complex. I’ll be told on my return and I’ll make certain you know where to send the new students and what credentials they may need.”
“This is excellent news,” Avanti said, nodding in satisfaction.
“Then we may depart?”
“Was ever there doubt?” Councilor Avanti looked horrified.
“When will our ship be ready?” Clavell asked.
“In due time, Sergeant.” Avanti had no problems with that title. “In due time! These are perilous times. Pirates have reappeared in the Inner Sea. There is war on Terra Firma, armies and raiding parties everywhere. The Wanax Ganton marches to the Ottarn River where he will fight a great battle. We are obligated by our treaties to assist him with what we can send.” Avanti leaned across the table and regarded Clavell intently. A confidential tone came into his voice. “You do understand that the Serene Republic has very little army of its own? We hire captains, such as yourself—especially such as yourself, and Nikeis is known as a generous employer—when military forces are required. Indeed, citizens of the Serene Republic are forbidden to command more than fifty men, lest their ambitions exceed their due stations. Of course that limit would not apply to you, if you ever entered our service.”
Jimmy Harrison chuckled.
“What’s this expedition you’re sending in our ship?” he asked, and there was a moment of silence, then Avanti laughed softly as if to cover Harrison’s rudeness.
“Brother Antonio Moro, one of our warrior monks, leads three dozen brothers of his order and two hundred hired halberdiers,” Avanti said. “Those in orders are sometimes exempted from the limits placed on those who are permitted political ambitions. My own nephew goes with them as proveditor.”
“Alas, I don’t understand that title,” Clavell said.
“I do.” Harrison turned to Clavell and said in English, “Think a cross between supply officer and commissar.”
“Ah. How’d you know?”
“Our butler had that job once,” Harrison said.
“Oh.” Which means he’s probably still some kind of agent of the Signory. But then maybe everyone is.
“Could not we go with Brother Antonio?” Clavell asked. Colonel and the fricken Wanax would expect me to be there with your forces.
Avanti looked astonished.
“Why, I suppose you can! We had not considered that! We understood that you wished to return to Armagh, and we had not sufficient soldiers to send as escort through a war zone. Yes, you could go with Brother Antonio—”
Senator del Verme cleared his throat.
“Excellency, I regret that the ship departed an hour ago! You urged haste, and I thought that was your wish.”
And that’s an interesting little drama, Clavell thought. Probably rehearsed, too.
“It will be sufficient to conduct us to a Roman port,” he said. “Rome will escort us to Castle Armagh.”
Councilor Avanti nodded, but—
“Indeed,” he said. “Alas, that will require an armed galley. The areas near the Roman port of Taranto are not safe. The Romans have attempted to suppress the pirates of that region, but they have been unable to do so. Perhaps you would be safe in a Roman warship and perhaps not, but a Serene Republic ship will be attacked on sight unless it carries marines and projectile weapons—and all of the Serene Republic’s warships are on patrol except for the one we had assigned to your use, and—” He shrugged. “In any case you must wait for its return.”
There was more diplomatic talk, but it was pretty clear to Clavell that nothing he could say would get him out of the Serene Republic. Not now, and maybe not ever. Relax and enjoy it, he thought.
“So,” Avanti was saying, “we will know more another time, but perhaps it would be better if Your Excellencies did not atte
mpt to return to your homelands just yet. Think on it! Drantos is invaded by at least two armies from the Five Kingdoms. There have been great battles, and the last one did not go well for Drantos.
“No one in Nikeis knows where your Wanax is, or where your Colonel Galloway might be! His lady was taken. Does he attempt rescue, or does he negotiate ransom? We do not know. We know only that there is war in your lands, all is unsettled, and until we know more, surely it is better to enjoy the hospitality of the Serene Republic?”
“Suits me,” Harrison muttered.
“We’re pleased to accept,” Clavell said. “Until we know more of the situation.”
Everyone in the room was smiling.
CHAPTER TWO
THE YOUNG LADIES OF NIKEIS
One week before the Battle of the Ottarn River
Lucia Michaeli sat staring into the filthy canal. The place stank, but she didn’t really notice because it always smelled that way. The small fig tree arbor sheltering her table was high above the canal water, built on stone foundations that served as store rooms, but the water seemed nearer than it had even a month before. And there’s water on the Palazzo San Marco, Lucia thought. Professore Clavell says that the water will rise to the high-water marks! In a few years, perhaps less! I live in strange times.
A waiter brought a pitcher of wine and a glass.
“Will there be anything else, Signorina?”
“Another glass. My friend will join me—ah, there she is.”
Lucia felt bold to call the daughter of one of the Council of Ten a friend, but it was true. Ginarosa Torricelli had very few friends, because she was shy and awkward—and everyone was terrified of her father, who was said to be not only the Doge’s favorite assassin, but well regarded by the entire Signory. To have the favor of both Doge and the Signory was rare, and Lucia’s mother was suspicious of Ginarosa’s friendship. “The great ones do not make friends for the same reasons you and I do,” she had told her. Lucia understood the suspicion, but she was sure that it was unfounded. Ginarosa had very little guile—and she certainly had few friends. Smart enough to recognize those currying favor with her father, and unwilling to be charming for the fun of it. And not religious enough to become a nun.
She doesn’t dress very well, either, Lucia thought. If she learned how to dress and do her hair properly she’d be prettier than I am. Her mother should teach her these things, I don’t know why she doesn’t. And it’s odd that Ginarosa has so few friends. She’s open, she says what she thinks, no flattery, no little stories—but then if she learned how to flirt she wouldn’t be Ginarosa. She’s always serious, always studying the way things are done. In that she’s like my sister Catarina, but Catarina isn’t so much ignorant of the ways of men as uninterested in them. Almost intolerant. Ginarosa would know more if she thought she could . . .
Lucia smiled as her friend took a seat across from her. Their arbor was attached to a modest café and looked down on a small canal, well away from the Grand Canal and the Palazzo. The True Sun stood high overhead.
“I don’t think my father would want me to be here,” Ginarosa said. She looked around, examining the small canal. High buildings rose on each side, and clotheslines ran across the canal at third-story height. Interesting food smells mingled with the foul odor of the canal. Some large fish rose to make ripples in the dark water. A boy about two years old played in a wooden pen in one corner of the arbor. A peaceful place, not like the bustle of the Palazzo.
“I won’t tell him,” Lucia said.
“You won’t have to,” Ginarosa said. “He’ll know. He knows everything I do! I think his men follow me.”
Lucia frowned. That would be interesting. What kind of men would an assassin send to guard his daughter? I haven’t seen anyone. But he is Council of Ten. He would have the best men—and women?—available, so perhaps it’s not surprising at all that I don’t see them.
She leaned her head forward so that her eyes would be hidden from anyone watching, and looked for strangers. No one was obvious, but the path on the other side of the canal was busy, perhaps someone in that group? At the moment the traffic was mostly workmen, many from the Arsenale. The wind shifted momentarily, bringing a whiff of hot pine scent from the factory complex, and Ginarosa wrinkled her nose.
“I smell that a lot lately,” she said, and Lucia laughed.
“And I’ve smelled it all my life! It’s part of what they do in foundries!”
“But more in the last year, I think.”
Lucia nodded agreement.
“My father has hired more men,” she said. “And my brother is on Terra Firma buying charcoal and copper.”
“Yes. Why?”
“Why?”
“There have been three ships loaded with copper and tin,” Ginarosa said. “At the Arsenale they are building ships and casting bronze fittings and making weapons. Why?”
Lucia shrugged.
“I do believe you know more about my father’s business than I do! What a strange thing to wonder about.”
“Yes, I suppose it is, but I do wonder,” Ginarosa said. “My mother says I may be a boy trapped in a girl’s body. They should have sent me to Terra Firma; I'd be a good proveditor.”
“I think you would!” Lucia giggled. “Do you feel like a boy?”
“No, no!” Ginarosa laughed. “I can appreciate a well-filled stocking and big shoulders! But mother says I have strange interests.”
She and Lucia were both dressed simply, so they might have passed for girls from the local neighborhood, except that Ginarosa wore a jeweled cross that peeked out of her blouse when she leaned forward. Lucia thought no thief would miss seeing that. Could someone already have seen it? But this was broad daylight, in a mercantile area of the city, with many citizens around them. No thief would strike here. And perhaps Ginarosa’s father did have men watching her. The thought was comforting, as was the dagger hidden in her sleeve.
Lucia poured wine and they both sipped at their glasses. It had a good taste, sweet and fruity, but Ginarosa grimaced slightly.
“Isn’t it good?” Lucia said. There was a plaintive note in her voice. The wine was the best the shop offered and it cost more than Lucia had wanted to pay.
“It’s very good,” Ginarosa said with a smile. “That’s the problem, I like good wine, too much I think. Mother says I need practice, that it’s important to be able to drink too much wine and still keep your wits, but I have more experience at that than she knows!”
“Tell me!”
“There’s nothing to tell. Three times now Carlo has gotten me to drink too much.”
“And?” Lucia demanded, and Ginarosa smiled thinly.
“There isn’t any ‘and,’” she said. “I kept my wits. More important I kept my skirts down.”
“Carlo,” Lucia mused. “He doesn’t notice me.”
“Do you want him to?”
“I would but, he’s yours.”
“Not really.” Ginarosa giggled. “He’d like to be. Actually, that’s not it. He only thinks he ought to be and acts that way. Mother says Carlo’s father wants something from us. I don’t know what, probably to be junior proveditor of the new expedition they’re sending to Terra Firma.” She caught herself and looked around the small arbor. “Don’t tell anyone about that. It’s secret.”
“But you were alone with him, drinking wine with him! Don’t you want him?”
Ginarosa bit the knuckle of her forefinger, looking pensively out over the canal.
“I don’t know what I want,” she said at last, still gazing across the canal. “But I’m pretty sure it’s not him.”
“But you like boys! Don’t you want them to want you?” Lucia couldn’t imagine a situation in which she wouldn’t take some advantage of having a boy fall under her spell. If only she knew how! And here is Ginarosa, plain Ginarosa, the ugly duckling, who wins and doesn’t even care!
Ginarosa looked back at her and giggled at her tone.
“It doesn’t
matter what I want, and it doesn’t matter how I look, or how I act, or anything,” she said. “My father is Council of Ten! Every family in the Signory wants to marry into my family. I could be a pig, a squealing mud-sucking pig, and they’d still want me. They’ll find someone for me to marry soon enough. I can wait for that.”
“You can? Don’t you—well, you know.”
Ginarosa giggled nervously.
“Surely. When I’m alone in my room. But I know better than to lose my head with anyone.”
“I guess you can keep your wits,” Lucia said. “But wasn’t he—well, insistent?”
“Surely he was, but he’s not a fool. He’s afraid of my father. Everyone is.”
She shrugged and Lucia nodded. Any sensible man would be afraid of Councilor Torricelli. It must make things even more difficult for poor Ginarosa.
“I’ve never been alone with a man,” she confessed. “I’m trying to learn about men, but I have to do that at balls and parties. There, I told you my secret. Now you tell me yours.”
Ginarosa darted a look around, then leaned forward across the table and her voice fell to a near whisper.
“I think I love our star lord teacher,” she said.
“Professore Clavell? But he’s old!”
“Not that old! And he talks to me, looks into my eyes.”
Those eyes looked almost dreamy at the moment, and Lucia smiled faintly.
“He looks at my breasts when he talks to me,” she said. “But, Ginarosa, your mother will never let you marry him! You’d have to live on Terra Firma, and they’re all heretics over there! And—really?”
“Really, and yes I know all that,” Ginarosa said. “No one else knows, and I don’t suppose anyone else ever will know. And I know it’s all hopeless, and, and, Lucia I’m so unhappy! I’m smart enough to know I don’t have any chance with him, he’s a star lord and he probably has a big family back where he lives. Only I don’t know if Father will ever let him leave! It’s been weeks now since he told the class we were done with lessons, but we’re not. And we’re not really learning anything new, either.”
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