Mamelukes

by Jerry Pournelle

  “He talks to you a lot, though,” Lucia said in an encouraging tone. “I think he likes you. But he’s certain they’ll be leaving soon. Perhaps you can go with him. To this University he told us of.”

  “You, more likely,” Ginarosa said. “I would give anything to go, but I don’t think they’ll let me do that. They won’t let me do anything! Maybe I’ll go into the Church, only my father won’t let me do that, either. He’d say it would be a big waste, and he’ll have some family he wants me to marry into. That’s all they see in me, someone to marry so I can give them more influence. As if I knew how! I can’t influence anyone!”

  Lucia plucked a linen kerchief from her bosom and handed it to her friend.

  “You have to learn how,” she said. “It’s the only power women have.”

  “I know.” Ginarosa dabbed at her eyes with the kerchief. “Lucia, I know a lot of things, but I can’t do them! Mother says I think too much.”

  “That may be some of it,” Lucia said. And listen to me, sounding like an old cortigiana! “But you can learn. It’s not hard to get men to do things you want them to do.”

  “Not hard for you.”

  “Rosa, it wouldn’t be hard for you, if you’d try.”

  “How do I try?”

  “Let’s go to your house, and I’ll show you.”

  * * *

  The Palazzo was flooded. That happened regularly now at high tide. The tide was going out now, but even at low tide there would be several inches of water over some of the paving stones. Lucia thought that it wouldn’t be long before they would have to move everything up to the upper palazzo. That would be inconvenient.

  Lucia and Ginarosa skirted the edge of the water, which did not quite reach the walkways around the Palazzo, and shopkeepers dashed out to display wares. Lucia paused to look at a silk scarf, and glanced back the way they’d come. There was a man back there, one she thought she’d seen before. He’d been in the crowd on the other side of the canal when they were having lunch.

  A man, following them. She felt a guilty thrill. Probably one of Gina’s household, Lucia thought. A retainer, maybe a soldier. Assassin? Bodyguard? When she looked back again he was gone. Probably just a man with an errand that had nothing to do with them. But it was exciting.

  Councilor Torricelli’s townhouse was across a small canal from the Palazzo. Unlike most of the houses around it, there wasn’t much decoration, inside or outside. Lucia wondered about that. Most of the Signory tried to impress everyone with their wealth, commissioning statuary and columns and other decoration, but the Torricelli mansion was nearly as plain as Lucia’s smaller house.

  The front door of the palazzo was open and two messengers raced out as the girls approached. Then a small group came to the door and dashed inside.

  “That’s Ensign Cornaro!” Ginarosa said. “He went to Terra Firma on Professore Clavell’s ship! With Senator Avanti! Now he’s back! Lucia, he’s Councilor Cornaro’s youngest son!”

  “What does this mean?” Lucia asked.

  “I don’t know,” Ginarosa said. “Let’s go find out!”

  She led Lucia around to a servants’ entrance, then up back stairs to the second floor where there was a musicians’ balcony above the main room. Lucia glanced over the rail. Councilor Torricelli was seated at a desk at the far end of the room. A half dozen men in robes—Lucia recognized two of them as members of the War Council who had visited her father’s bronze works—sat nearby. Ensign Cornaro stood in front of the desk, and everyone was looking at him, so that no one looked up at the balcony at all.

  Ginarosa put her finger to her lips and indicated a bench where they could sit without being seen.

  Lucia sat and held her breath. Spying on a Councilor. One of the Council of Ten! She wondered just how afraid she ought to be. But Ginarosa didn’t seem concerned.

  “ . . . and the lights came to the ground?” Councilor Torricelli was saying. “With no sound? How far away were you?”

  “We didn’t know at the time, but we later discovered that it was six Roman miles, Your Honor.”

  “So you went there, of course.”

  “Yes, Your Honor. Senator Avanti insisted that we make haste. He rode on ahead to spy but what he saw caused him to come back and bring the entire party together.”

  “Senator Avanti abandoned his caravan?” Torricelli’s voice was cold enough it frightened Lucia.

  “No, Your Honor, he divided the guard and had those who stayed behind form a wagon fort. He also gave orders for a messenger to go to the port and hire more soldiers. Then we set out to see what we might make of those strange lights.

  “It was star lords, Your Honor. We found them in a clearing. Our captain had the crossbowmen cock their weapons, but keep them lowered so they wouldn’t be threatening, then led us into the clearing. There were two star men and one woman, Your Honor. All were dressed alike, in the manner of the Star Lord Harrison, and all carried weapons. Star weapons, much like those the Signori Harrison and Clavell carry.”

  “The woman was armed?”

  “Yes, Your Honor. The same as the men. Your Honor, she was their spokesman! The men didn’t speak our language at all. They know only the trade language of Terra Firma, and that not very well. But the woman speaks our language as well as the trade language. Her accent is strange, but we could understand her. And she was armed as they were.”

  Ginarosa made cheering gestures and Lucia thought about what this might mean. Armed women. Not carrying daggers in a sleeve, but openly armed. With star weapons! She’d heard that on Terra Firma, in Drantos, the star man commander Rick was married to a contessa, and that the contessa commanded armies and carried a star weapon. Carlo had told her that the weapon was a wedding gift from her star man husband, but he hadn’t been very sure of that. Still it made a favorite fantasy, to marry a man who gave her a star weapon on their wedding day.

  “She was their spokesman,” Councilor Torricelli repeated. There was a frown in his voice. “One of them was her husband?”

  “No, Your Honor!”

  “You sound very certain of this, Ensign Cornaro.”

  “Your Honor, I am very certain. We hadn’t been there an hour when the signorina made it very clear that she found Senator Avanti a pleasant companion! And the other star men saw this and made no complaint at all. Your Honor, one of the star men was black.”

  “Black?”

  “As black as coal, Your Honor, and very tall. It wasn’t paint. His skin was black.”

  “I’ve heard there are black men in the far south provinces,” someone said.

  “Captain Adanante had a black deck crewman at the Battle of Low Strait,” another said. “I knew him. He came from the south. He spoke a common language of Terra Firma.”

  “But this was a star man,” Torricelli said. “Ensign, you’re certain of this?”

  “As certain as I may be, Your Honor. He was armed as the others and treated as an equal. He spoke to the star man leader without ceremony. As did the woman.”

  “Tell me of this leader,” Torricelli said.

  “He was tall, yet smaller than the black man, and he spoke softly,” the officer said. “He wore spectacles, like a scholar. He spoke pleasantly with Senator Avanti, but mostly through the woman. His name was—” the officer hesitated “—Bart Saxon. A name I’ve never heard before.”

  “Saxon? That is a people, I believe,” Councilor Celsi said. “But I know not where they abide.”

  “Signor Saxon was the leader,” Ensign Cornaro said. “But he always consulted the others before he came to a decision.”

  “Why are these star men not with you, Ensign?” Torricelli asked.

  “The boxes, Your Honor! There were three huge boxes made of the finest steel, each twenty piede long by half that in width and height! Each side of each box was a single sheet of steel, Your Honor. A single sheet! They are said—Signor Saxon said—they have much of the knowledge of all the star men in there! More weapons, fantastic equipment,
but most of all knowledge! Signor Saxon said that with what is in those boxes he can teach us to make the kinds of marvels that star men use! But only he can make use of what is in them. It would be of no value without him.”

  “Mmmm. And where are those—boxes?” Torricelli asked.

  “They are to be brought here. A ship must be rebuilt to carry them one by one, because they are so large. Senator Avanti is making those arrangements now! I was sent to notify you.”

  “Thank you, Ensign,” Torricelli said, and glanced at his companions. “Do we have more questions? Yes, Councilor?”

  “You say that this star woman seemed to find my nephew attractive? And he was not displeased?”

  “Yes, Signor.”

  “And they said openly that they have all the knowledge of the star lords in those boxes?”

  “They did, Councilor Avanti. They also made it plain that the knowledge was in a form that would be useless without their interpretation.”

  “You believed that?” Torricelli asked.

  “Your Honor, I neither believe nor disbelieve. I am not familiar with the ways of star lords.”

  “Nor are any of us,” someone said. “Our children know these men Harrison and Clavell better than we do. I never thought that a wise decision, to stay far from them and send only children to listen to them.”

  “There were good reasons,” Torricelli said.

  “I notice that your daughter is one of the students.”

  “As is the daughter of the foundry guild chief, the sons of four merchants, the son—”

  “Indeed, Councilor Torricelli,” Councilor Avanti said. “I understood the reasoning for not allowing any one of us to spend time alone with those star lords. Knowledge is power indeed. But tell me, does not this news change everything? We will need new policies. This is a matter for all the Signory.”

  “It is,” Torricelli said. “It certainly is. But we must act quickly. First, we must be certain that all this knowledge comes to us, not to Rome or Drantos!”

  There were murmurs of agreement.

  “And not to any one of us alone,” Councilor Celsi said. “But others may have seen these lights. This must be seen to quickly!”

  “Do I note your agreement, Councilor Avanti? Excellent. We are agreed,” Torricelli said. “We will now go to the Doge. All of us. And select a commission we can trust to take a company of loyal soldiers to Terra Firma to secure these boxes. I doubt any of us will sleep well until they are secured in the Arsenale!”

  “What soldiers do we trust with something so important?” Avanti asked. “I trust my nephew, and his troops are loyal, but everyone might not agree.”

  “Agree or not, we need our most trustworthy troops!”

  “Whom you have sent to the aid of Drantos,” Avanti observed dryly, and Torricelli grimaced.

  “Yes.” He thought for a moment. “Ensign!”

  “Aye, your honor?”

  “I wish to send a message to Brother Antonio, who was sent to join the Wanax Ganton in honor of our treaty. The message is urgent. How large an escort will be required?”

  “Five lances should be sufficient to deal with bandits,” the young officer said. “More would attract undue attention.”

  “Five lances it shall be,” Torricelli said. “From the Doge’s guard. Choose a suitable detail, a captain of good family who can be trusted with gold and an important message, to leave as soon as possible. My friends, I think it’s time that we seek the Doge on an urgent matter. We must compose a message recalling Brother Antonio. And there will be other messages. We must act quickly.”

  Lucia huddled down on the bench to be sure she was not seen as the signori left the Great Hall. Her friend looked knowingly at her.

  “So, Rosa,” Lucia said. “This is how you live?”

  “It is not always so exciting. Will you come with me?”

  “Certainly. Where, Rosa?”

  “To tell Star Lord Clavell,” Ginarosa whispered, then paused. “Oh, does this mean he’ll go away now? But he should know, he should know. Star men. One of them black, and one of them a courtesan! And all the knowledge of the stars to come here to Nikeis!”

  Lucia gulped hard.

  “But you mustn’t tell, Rosa. You mustn’t!”

  “But he should know—”

  “Perhaps. But surely you can wait until we know more. And if your father learns that I overheard—”

  Ginarosa looked startled, then grave.

  “Yes. I hadn’t thought of that. He is no danger to me, but to you—I don’t think he is a danger to you, either, but better not to risk it. I will say nothing until we know more. And I’ll be careful what I say, even then. Be calm, Lucia, you’ll be in no danger. I promise you.”

  And I have never seen you in this mode. In control, knowing—truly the daughter of the Counselor Torricelli, composed and calm. Why do you hide this?

  “Thank you. And I must get home . . . ”

  “Of course. I’ll send a servant to see you safely home. And thank you for the wine, friend Lucia.”

  * * *

  Lance Clavell got through his lecture somehow. The students pretended to be interested even though Clavell had told them all of this before. Today he’d been talking about different kinds of bacteria.

  Again.

  He gathered his notes as the students left. Not so much left as fled, he thought. And I can hardly blame them. I don’t have much to interest them. Drawings, and I’m a bad artist. He looked up to see Ginarosa Torricelli standing at his desk. As usual she was dressed rather plainly. She’d be the prettiest one in the class if she tried, Clavell thought. And she’s damned well the most interesting one. Belay that thought, Lance, me lad. It could get you killed. He looked up to be sure the others were gone. She looked nervous. And if she is, do I want to hear what she has to say? Her father’s an assassin . . .

  “Yes, Signorina?”

  “Do you know how to use a microscope?” she asked.

  Whoa! Now that’s nothing I expected!

  “Yes, but how do you know of such things?”

  “You mentioned that as the name of the instrument with which we might see small things,” the girl said.

  “Oh. Did I? I’d forgotten.”

  “Perhaps this will help,” she said, and took a large lens from her bag.

  Clavell looked at it: a magnifying glass, circular, perhaps four inches in diameter, with a bronze band and handle. Certainly handmade, by a very patient craftsman.

  “Are these common here?”

  “No, no, they’re rare, and expensive.” The girl shook her head. “I don’t know how they are crafted, but very few glassworkers have the skill to make one. But is this what you meant by a microscope?”

  “No, a microscope requires more than one lens,” Clavell said. “In a careful arrangement. But this should be good enough to show the liver flukes.”

  “Not bacteria, though?”

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  “I think we have one. Or rather Senator Avanti is bringing in a microscope from the mainland,” she said. “I haven’t seen it, but he used that name.”

  “Where would Senator Avanti get a microscope?” Clavell asked, his expression puzzled. And how the hell would he know what to call it? Maybe she told him.

  Ginarosa smiled.

  “I see they didn’t tell you,” she said. “I thought they hadn’t. So I should be afraid to do so, I think.”

  “No one tells me anything,” Clavell said. “Including why I can’t go back to my home.”

  “Do you truly want to leave?” she said. “We must not stay too long, my father’s men will be suspicious. Of course what they will suspect will not be conversation.” She smiled again and lowered her head.

  Careful, Lance, Clavell told himself. This could be big trouble.

  “But we should be safe for a few more minutes,” Ginarosa said. “And it isn’t I who tempts you,” she added quietly. “Professore, you’ve spoken of this University in Tamaert
han. It seems a wise and learned place. I had thought I wanted nothing more than to go there. Now—”

  “Now you don’t want to go? Why?” he asked, and she shrugged.

  “Perhaps something better is coming here,” she said. “I cannot tell you more. Ask my father. They haven’t told you anything, that’s clear, and I think you should know, but I dare not tell you. And it would be dangerous to tell them the source of your curiosity.”

  She turned and walked away. Clavell stood staring after her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  INTELLIGENCE

  “You wished to speak with me, Professore?” Councilor Torricelli’s smile was warm, and his voice pleasant. “Please. Be seated. Will you have wine? Something else, perhaps?”

  “Your hospitality is admirable,” Lance Clavell said. “Yours”—he gestured to indicate the large reception hall of Torricelli’s home—“and your city’s as well. Except that there’s too much of it.”

  Torricelli frowned. “What do you mean, Signor?”

  “Pardon me for being blunt,” Clavell said. “I’m a blunt man. Signor, we’ve been here many weeks longer than ever we intended. Events happen on the mainland. Rumors are everywhere. You send armies ashore. And when we seek to return to our homes, there’s always a good reason why we can’t leave. I can’t find my Roman allies and their officers have vanished. I can’t send messages to my Colonel, and I have none from him although I’m certain he’s sent inquiries about me. Signor Torricelli, the time has come for honesty. Why are we being detained?”

  “You find life here unpleasant?” There was a slight edge to Torricelli’s voice.

  “Of course not. This has been the most pleasant time since we arrived on this godforsaken planet! But Signor, I don’t think you appreciate the situation. My Colonel has no doubt made inquiries about my welfare. If he doesn’t hear from me soon enough, I don’t know what he’ll do, but I would hate for there to be some misunderstanding here.”

  “There will be no misunderstanding,” Torricelli said. His manner was polite, but the atmosphere had changed entirely. Clavell sensed danger. Undefined danger, but very real.