The Master of Verona (87 page)

"You're a fool," said Dante. "You should have built a fire outside the cave — something to send up a signal."

Suddenly remembering, Pietro opened his mouth, croaked, swallowed, and tried again. "Ferdinando. I met Ferdinando — sent him back for help."

Cangrande frowned. "Petruchio's cousin? Then where is he?" Pietro shrugged and explained entrusting Detto to Ferdinando's care.

Cangrande shook his head. "Mariotto found Detto with your horse. Which means we have another person to look for. I'll see to it." He called Nico over and gave him the order. Then he turned back to Pietro, his face showing real sadness. "I'm sorry about Mercurio."

Pietro bowed his head. "Thank you. He was a good fellow. But he will live on in his children. And in Cesco's memory." He swallowed again and said, "I'm sorry I let him get away."

Dante sputtered. "A choice! Let him escape or let the child die! I think God applauds the valiant more than the vengeful."

"Live a life that is worthy of respect and honour. Protect the innocent," recited the Scaliger.

"You remembered." Pietro's tired grin stretched from ear to ear. "How am I doing?"

"Damn well, I'd say."

From the confines of her carriage Giovanna emerged and approached her husband. "My lord, your young friend here is both wounded and tired. You should send him back to Verona."

"I'm fine." Pietro's protest was feeble in comparison to the exhaustion printed on his face.

Cangrande nodded. "You're right, my love. Pietro, you've done enough for one day. More than enough. You need Morsicato's attention. I'll send you to Vicenza —" He began looking around for horses.

"Might I suggest another conveyance?" Giovanna gestured to her carriage. "It seats four comfortably. If you're determined to send it to Vicenza, it could carry the child and your sister, with the knight's father as well. I shall ride with you, if you'll allow it."

After a long moment of consideration, Cangrande leaned forward and kissed his wife. "My angel." With an air of decision, he declared, "Amen. Let it be."

Pietro told Poco to take Canis and help find Ferdinando. Around them the revels were becoming extreme. Women had arrived from a nearby village and the men were attempting to impress them with tales of the day and with contests of stamina and strength. They would not be missed.

In the carriage Pietro sat beside his father, who clucked over him like an old hen. Seated across from him were Cesco and Katerina. Cangrande saw them all settled into the cushioned seats, then firmly closed the door and nodded to the groom. The man gave a loose salute with his hand, then snapped his whip. The horses trotted off towards the road.

Morsicato arrived at the mound just as the carriage was pulling out. He dismounted next to Cangrande, who was mildly surprised to see him. "I just sent off some patients to find you. Things under control in the city?"

"As much as they could be," said the doctor, staring after the carriage. "I thought I might be needed here."

"I'm delighted to say you're not. Ser Alaghieri has a few scratches that bear looking at, but otherwise no doctoring for you. He's heading back in that carriage. You might as well enjoy a flagon of wine. It seems our victory celebration has spontaneously erupted."

Accepting the flagon, Morsicato drank deeply. "That carriage — I thought I recognized the grooms."

"They belong to my wife." The Scaliger pointed to where Giovanna was standing with Nico da Lozzo, laughing more brightly than she had in a long time. "She volunteered her carriage to transport both child and hero back to the city."

Bail approached with little Detto. Nogarola's huge bear paws cradled his son against his chest while Detto sucked his thumb in blissful sleep. Smiling brightly, Cangrande clapped his brother-in-law on the shoulder. "I thought you'd left."

"I keep getting waylaid. Was that my wife you sent off in the carriage?"

"It was."

"Why weren't there any guards riding along?"

Cangrande blinked. "I ordered twenty men on horseback to accompany them. I thought that was enough."

"Well, they didn't go. I just talked to the commander. They were told they weren't needed."

Cangrande's voice grew icy. "By whom?"

"They thought the order came from you."

"Really?"

Bailardino seemed angry. "I'd think you'd be a little more concerned. Kat told me about the Count's secret partner. He's still out there, you know."

"Bail, don't worry. I'll send twenty men off right now. They should catch the carriage in no time."

"All right, peacock. I'm going to stay here and let Detto nap for awhile before heading home." Bailardino lumbered away, his sleeping son in his arms.

Cangrande turned to Morsicato. "Join me, Doctor? Or perhaps you'd like to ride back with them?"

"There are other doctors in the city. If you say Pietro's wounds aren't serious, I think I'll join you for another drink."

The Scaliger nodded. "Speaking of wounds, how is Theodoro?"

"The Moor? He's up and moving. In fact, I wanted to speak to you about him. He's been divining. Hardly was he awake when he had the pendulum out and swinging. Then he kept trying to get up, saying he had to leave. I had him tied to his bed."

"What did he divine?"

"A danger to Pietro and Cesco."

Cangrande laughed. "A little late! But when we return, we can put his fears to rest."

The doctor persisted. "What's this about a secret partner?"

"Some spy in my palace was working with him. He's the one who—"

Stopping in his tracks, the doctor grabbed Cangrande's arm. "That's it! That's where I've seen those grooms!"

"What grooms?"

"Your wife's! They were the ones in Vicenza last year, in the palace! The men with the accents!"

"What are you talking about?"

"They're the ones who tried to kill Cesco!"

Morsicato watched Cangrande assimilate that information. "You're certain they're the men you saw?"

"Dead certain."

Morsicato expected the Scaliger to leap onto a horse and cry for all and sundry to follow him as he raced to the rescue of his son once again. Yet this one time the Capitano stood frozen. The doctor's voice was urgent. "Cangrande! Those men have Cesco! He's in danger! We must go!"

Eyes unfocused, Cangrande nodded. "Quietly, just us. No soldiers. Not a word to anyone."

In moments they had mounted their horses and were off.

"This is taking a long time," observed Dante.

Cesco was playing with something. In the light from the covered lamp Pietro saw it was a coin. "Cesco, where did you get that?" Cesco clutched it to him and didn't answer. Pietro thought he knew what it was. "You can keep it. I'm sure Mercurio would want you to." Cesco didn't smile, but he relaxed and returned to fingering the old Roman coin.

They bounced hard and everyone had to hold onto the walls. "The road must be muddy," replied Katerina. "Why are they going so fast?"

"We
are
going at a good clip, aren't we?" Pietro was trying to keep his bruised and aching body from jostling overmuch.

"It's because the bad men are driving," said Cesco with a yawn.

Pietro looked at the boy. "What bad men?"

"Th' men who tried t' cut me last year. They tore my pillow," he added confidentially to Dante.

"Cesco, what do you mean?" asked Pietro.

The child looked out the window.

Katerina said, "Cesco! Pietro asked you a question. You didn't answer him."

"I said! Th' men on top're the ones who cut my bed."

Katerina's arms tightened protectively around Cesco's shoulders as she gazed at the others.

Dante said, "Is he imagining it?"

The child made a face and returned to his coin.

"How would they..?" began Pietro, only to see Katerina turn ashen. "What?"

"Giovanna!" she cried. "Giovanna is the Count's partner!"

It was like ice water flowing into his veins. "Cangrande's wife?"

Dante said, "No. You must be mistaken."

"I'm not. It all fits. She had the keys to let Pathino out of the loggia. When Pathino failed, she got tired of waiting and sent her own men."

"But why?" Pietro thought he knew, but it was too awful. Cangrande's wife trying to murder his only son?

"Obviously to protect her future heirs. Francesco is a fool." The child looked up. "Not you, Cesco. Though why you didn't tell us this before we got into the carriage, I can't say."

"I thought you knew." The three-year-old closed his eyes again. "Besides, Pietro's here." The child shrugged as if that were all that mattered.

They were moving much too fast to leap from the carriage, even if they weren't a wounded knight with a game leg, an old bent poet, a woman, and an exhausted child.

"Quite right," said Dante. "Pietro's here. He'll think of something."

Nico da Lozzo was not drunk. He wanted to be, but his orders kept him sober. "I don't believe this! Pathino's still out there! He can't have more than a couple hours' head start. We could catch him!"

Bonaventura was far less sober, but just as adamant. "I agree. Hurting children! I'd like to take him home and let my brood at him."

Nearby, Uguccione shook the water out of his long hair. "But instead of that, all our men are hunting for your idiot cousin."

Bonaventura belched. "He'll turn up. He always does."

"I delegated and put Montecchio in charge of finding him," said Nico. "He's had the luck today."

At that very moment a grizzled old soldier stepped forward. "My lords — you'd best come see this."

"You find Ferdinando?" demanded Bonaventura.

"Yes, lord. But there's something else."

A quality in the man's tone made several other men follow behind Nico, Bonaventura, and Uguccione. After a winding walk through the wood, they came to a body. Young Montecchio was kneeling beside it. The figure was draped in a cloak the mirror of Mariotto's own, but this cloak was stained with blood.

Nico bolted forward. "Oh God. Mari — is it..?"

Mariotto gingerly turned the shoulders of the dead man, tenderly shielding the face from the rain as he removed the gilded helmet. Everyone stood for a long time without speaking.

Another blue-cloaked figure came riding over in haste. Benvenito reined in close by and dropped lightly from his saddle. "Mariotto! Somebody said—"

Mariotto remained kneeling in the mud, looking down at the face that had always, but for one night, looked severe and reserved. Now the features were relaxed, peaceful. So should every man look, the assembled men thought, as he found himself at his Creator's knee.

"Ambushed, looks like," said Bonaventura, sobering swiftly.

Benvenito glanced up sharply. "By whom? A Paduan?"

"No. Not a Paduan." Tenderly Mariotto laid his father's head to the ground. Pulling hard, he removed a silver dagger from his father's armpit. He had to work hard to slide it out, showing how forceful a blow the killing stroke had been. He wiped the blood from it on his own cloak. There, etched on the blade, was his own name.

A murmur of voices from up the hillside, then a pair of figures came into the clearing under the tree. Luigi and Antony Capulletto walked forward into the light of the torches. Antony said, "We saw the lights on the hill. What's happened? Are they found?"

"Capulletto," said Nico softly, "you don't want to be here right now."

"Why?" Antony looked at the dead body. "Who is it?"

Mariotto's head rose. Uguccione saw his muscles tense. So did Nico. As Mariotto sprang forward they were there, wrapping their arms about Montecchio to restrain him. Mariotto struggled fiercely as he shouted, "Bastard! Coward! Can't even come at me face to face! You have to stab in the back! Only you missed! You
missed
!"

Antony turned red. "If I wanted you dead, Mari, you'd be dead!"

"Christ, Capulletto," murmured Bonaventura, "shut up, can't you?"

"I will when you tell me who the hell is that dead man?"

Benvenito answered. "Aurelia's father. His father." He jerked his thumb at Mariotto.

Antony went from red to ashen in an instant. "No!"

Mariotto's face streamed tears. "You jumped-up nobody! She'd never have you! Kill me and she still wouldn't come to you!"

Antony realized why everyone's eyes were upon him. "No! I didn't — the old man was kind to me — stood with me against his son! Why would I want him dead?"

Mariotto raised the silver dagger in his hand. "Because you thought it was me! Me!"

Antony stared at the knife, a horrified look on his face. "Where did you get that?"

"From my father's corpse! Can't tell a young man from an old, but you can tell back to front! You lily-livered coward!"

"Mariotto," said Uguccione in his ear, "calm yourself. I'll arrest him for this—"

"No! Let me loose, damn you!" Mari strained against the men holding him. "You want a fight, Capulletto? You want a duel? Fine! Here, now. Daggers only. You can use the one you stabbed my father with!"

Antony held out his hands. "I swear, I threw it away! I dropped that thing this afternoon!" Looking at the faces around him, it was clear that no one believed him. "I did!"