CHAPTER 34
The boys continued their drill when Uggeri entered the workshop. They were curious to see Sofia’s wrath, but they knew better than to make it obvious. Uggeri had been returned his flag upon release – or perhaps he’d just taken it. Sofia walked over, her hand out. As he reached forward, Sofia feigned a left, he shifted right and she snapped his flag away from him. Uggeri reached after it, but Sofia blocked him with a stick under his chin. He stopped in time, looked up and saw she meant it.
He stood up straight. ‘I’m not sorry.’
‘I didn’t ask if you were. All I ask is obedience. I give an order, you do it. This isn’t Palazzo del Popolo. Here, I’m still Contessa.’
‘Got it.’
‘Fine then,’ she said and lowered her flag. ‘Don’t go south again without my express permission. I need you here in the workshop. Flags have got slack.’ She said it loud so everyone could hear. ‘Doc wouldn’t have stood for it and neither will I. You boys expecting someone else to do your fighting? The Hawk’s Company? The Sisterhood?
The answer came clear, punctuated by flags thumping floorboards. ‘No, Maestro!’
‘Every workshop in town’s lost its snap. That going to happen here? To Doc Bardini’s boys?’
‘No, Maestro!’
Sofia lowered her voice. ‘What about you? You want to fight?’
‘Yes, Maestro,’ Uggeri said earnestly.
‘Too bad. You’re my capomaestro. Train these boys until I can hear that snap again.’ She thrust his flag back at him.
‘What about you, Maestro – want to spar?’ Uggeri said with a shy smile, and Sofia knew this was the nearest she’d get to an apology. Uggeri was a physical creature, the way the Doc had been. Perhaps he didn’t have Doc’s brain, but who did?
‘I’m not feeling great. Maybe after this Signoria meeting.’
The Signoria’s elegant new assembly hall was planned by Giovanni and finished by Pedro. With its distinctive clock tower and bold rejection of Concordian forms, the Palazzo del Popolo was a vigorous essay in ‘Etruscan Revival’. The style was popular in Ariminum and the wealthy southern cities like Veii for political as much as aesthetic reasons; it was this neo-classical execution rather than the dome’s modest breadth that impressed foreign visitors most.
The keyhole-shaped plan was rational, but not lacking drama. The old palazzo was often flooded and permanently damp; it had caused the premature death of many elderly parliamentarians. In contrast, the new rotunda was raised to a proud height. At the top of the steps, large bronze doors opened into a lofty corridor lined not with family crests but with the flags of the major Guilds. It led to a cylindrical, light-filled chamber – the Speakers’ Hall, which was capped with a barrel fretted with circular windows that supported the shallow dome. In memory of the building it replaced, the dome’s apex was open to the sky.
Pedro was standing in the centre reading his report on Montaperti. It was dry stuff. Sofia leaned over to Levi. ‘So how did you break the news to Piers Becket that he was engaged?’
‘Down on one knee. I’m a traditionalist.’
‘How’d he take it?’
‘He warmed to it, eventually.’ Levi saw her sceptical look. ‘Becket just looks dumb. I explained that the Hawk’s Company isn’t going anywhere, and that he could do worse than aligning himself with Tower Sorrento. Selling cabbages is a lot more lucrative than being a condottiere these days, and safer. Once he got the idea, he made a handsome apology to the offended patriarch.’
‘Also on bended knee, no doubt. The farmer won’t mind a condottieri captain in the family. I bet Bombelli turns the wedding into a state occasion.’
‘If I could convince all my men to pair off, there wouldn’t be any more bad blood.’
‘What are you, a matchmaker? This is Rasenna. We’ll find a new reason.’
The textile Guilds – furriers, silk-makers and cloth-dealers – sat together and voted together, as instructed by the Wool Guild. The Guilds of the Bandieratori, Engineers and Doctors were floating voters. The minor Guilds had neither vote nor seat, but were instead represented by a major Guild, a relationship akin to parents and children, according to the priors. The dyers, pullers and carders did not think their association so benign, but they had no other option. As for those trades too menial to have any Guild status: they were orphans.
Pedro had come to end of his report. He took a breath and glanced at Sofia. ‘And since we’d gone so far, we decided to go a little further.’
‘What if you’d been caught?’ Sofia said angrily. ‘Who would lead our engineers? You have a responsibility to people other than yourself—’
‘Yuri was with me, and we only circled the Waste – near enough to see Concord’s walls, but not near enough to be in any danger. Dio, it’s a wonder!’
‘But what were you doing?’
‘Surveying the western canal,’ Fabbro interrupted. ‘Maestro Vanzetti was acting under my orders.’ The gonfaloniere was flanked by Polo and Bocca, the farmer and the brewer. All three glared at Sofia.
‘You don’t seriously propose to attack it?’ said Levi in alarm.
The farmer smiled bitterly. ‘Of course not. You must be tolerant of us, Podesta, if we occasionally consider other things besides war. It is a weakness of merchants. Rasenna is no further from the sea than Concord. If they can build a canal, so can we.’
The old days of waiting for the mace to speak were gone. Levi knew that Polo Sorrento was still smarting with embarrassment over his daughter, but he would not have spoken without support.
Levi ignored the sarcasm; he got it now. ‘Ariminum has a port so—’
‘—we need one too.’ Fabbro said. ‘Rasenna can’t really compete with Ariminum until we become a maritime power.’
‘Gonfaloniere, I’ve nothing against your dreams of empire but the timing. I’ve been trying to fuse the southern league into a meaningful coalition. Naturally, the other cities are waiting for Ariminum’s lead. After Concord, it is the strongest state in Etruria. If we it drive into Concord’s camp—’
‘The league. The league. When will you give up that dream? You know all too well that Ariminum’s a slippery negotiator. The more leverage we have over them, the better. Besides, Concord’s in no condition to cause us trouble. It’s falling apart! And if it ever does regain stability, its ambitions are in the north. The Twelfth’s expedition south two years ago was about getting rid of the condottieri; effectively, they did. Times change, Podesta. Commerce and diplomacy will be better shields than any league.’
Sofia could stand no more. ‘Diplomacy isn’t an option. Concord means to destroy us!’
‘Tranquillo, Signorina,’ the farmer said sweetly, ‘diplomacy’s always an option.’
Levi said strongly, ‘This impasse will not be solved by more letters. It will be too late if you only see the point of a league when Concord acts.’
‘We sent them packing once; we can do it again,’ the farmer said breezily. ‘Friends, we owe the Podesta an apology. The city of towers hasn’t lived up to its turbulent reputation.’ He turned to Levi with a sympathetic expression, ‘If settled life bores you, don’t spare our feeling. Go – take your men too. No one will complain.’
There was laughter amongst the textile priors and their allies. Only the brewer, who made a lot of money keeping the condottieri drunk, didn’t join in.
But Levi ignored them. ‘As the southern league’s northernmost city, Rasenna will be first to face Concord’s army: you must see that. If and when Concord comes, you’ll be thankful for every man you can get. With the Hawk’s Company, you defeated a legion that wasn’t expecting a fight. How will you fare against several legions who come prepared? If you continue to stand alone, you’ll fall.’
The farmer applauded slowly. ‘Bravo, Podesta! The flags, the horses, the alarums and clash of sword and axe! The grand sweep of war! Let’s take a breath after all that excitement. Friends, we mustn’t hold it against the Podesta that he loves war – after all, that is his occupation. But we must remember it when we weigh his arguments. Don’t your spies tell you anything? Concord lacks the wherewithal to launch a new offensive against us.’
‘It’s true, Signore Sorrento, that their attempt to subdue Etruria proved more difficult than anticipated. But in Europa, Concord’s strong as ever. They have turned away from us only briefly; when they turn back, we must be ready, or we will perish. The Ninth and Tenth legions under General Spinther have made short work of the Franks and’ – he paused for emphasis – ‘I have reports that put him in the Tyrolean Highlands a week ago.’
The chuckling abruptly stopped.
As Levi sat, Fabbro stood. ‘I do hope you pay your spies badly, Podesta. You’ve just heard that Spinther’s legions are advancing into the Dalmatian March, but the lowest bridge merchant might have told you that weeks ago. Our Ariminumese partners complain of nothing else. Even if they did not, we would know it by the inflated price of Oltremarine silks and spice.’
Levi’s embarrassment showed in his cold anger. ‘It doesn’t trouble you that our enemy has encircled the Venetian Gulf?’
‘No!’ Fabbro laughed. ‘The Concordians are racing headlong into a wall – at the end of Dalmatian March there is a little city called Byzant; you may have heard of it. The northern capital of the empire of Oltremare is impregnable. If Concord wakes that giant, so much the worse for Concord. If they go to war, all the cities of southern Etruria will profit, and the Oltremarines will be that much more disposed to do business with us to boot.’
Sofia caught Levi’s glance. As usual the status quo was winning the day. Not for the first time, she sensed the hidden hand of the Mercanzia.
The notary’s confusion as he came to the next item on the agenda drew their attention ‘A vote on the proposed … salt tax? But when was this proposed?’
Fabbro was already on his feet. ‘I took the liberty of amending last session’s minutes.’ He was prepared for opposition. His explanation that this was about equity, a temporary measure to share the expense of an important public monument, did little to console Sofia.
‘Let me get this straight: the priors get the glory and the Small People get to pay for it? Think they’ll accept that?’
‘When we make it law they’ll have to,’ said the brewer.
Pedro responded to Bocca. ‘Our prosperity is contingent on peace. In the old days, every tower was equally poor. Some towers are higher than others now, but they can still burn.’
As the notary struggled to restore order, the point of having a Speakers’ Mace became apparent.
The farmer shook his head contemptuously. ‘We’ve heard this communard argument from Maestro Vanzetti ever since he sold his towers. He claimed he wished to be free to concentrate on engineering, and we believed him. It’s obvious now that he only wanted to be free to look down on those who earn their daily bread. The Vanzetti have always been expert in telling others how to do things. All the goods we sell are taxed by the city, and all profit by our low prices. Those same few towers who pay for the Hawk’s Company’s beer pay for the engineers’ fanciful projects – and are we thanked? No. Do we complain? No. Do we ask the Small People for much? Again, no; we’re simply asking for a contribution – and for that temerity we’re treated to threats of being burned in our beds. Fine gratitude – fine talk in a house built on the rule of law.’
Sofia was depressed to hear that same self-serving argument that had dominated the old Signoria, but it was Pedro who responded. ‘If we ask the minor Guilds and those trades without Guilds to share this burden, they are entitled to ask for a seat in this house.’
The notary began reciting, ‘Only priors can sit in this house, and only the priors of the major Guilds can—’
‘The right to form a Guild should be the prerogative of the workers concerned,’ Pedro declared, ‘and them alone.’
The brewer started to snarl, but Fabbro pulled him down. ‘Friends, we are family, but families are not democracies. Unhappy families have one thing in common: an excess of freedom, and inevitably it brings them ruin. Wise parents allow children to make mistakes, but a parent who lets his child destroy himself is not wise. The major Guilds do not have the vote because we are rich, we have the vote because we are prudent. Moderation is a virtue in all things, not least in governance. An excess of freedom is as bad as slavery: we must have freedom, but not too much.’ He sat down with Pedro in his sights.
Sofia kept her seat and shouted back, ‘Gonfaloniere, I heard the same argument used to deny you a seat once. You didn’t want to be taxed without a say in how it was spent. If you were right then, then you’re wrong now.’
Fabbro, furious that Sofia hadn’t bothered to stand, remembered the contempt Doc Bardini had shown the old Signoria. ‘It seems to me, Signorina Scaligeri sometimes forgets that Rasenna no longer owes allegiances to Count or Contessa. She has voice in this house only as prior of the Bandieratori Guild. The Scaligeri did not rule by consultation. When, I wonder, did she acquire her love of the people? Was it when she realised what she had given up? Was it when she realised that parliamentarians must persuade equals, not command subjects?’
‘Stick to the point, Gonfaloniere,’ the notary interjected.
‘Very well, it’s easily refuted. Signorina Scaligeri does not compare like with like. Yes, I objected to the Families’ rule: the city they ran was feuding. The city they ran was poor. The city I run is at peace. The city I run is prosperous. Enough. I don’t have to explain myself to this spoiled girl, whatever she once was. There are other matters on the agenda. Let’s vote.’
As the notary prepared to read the motion, Levi stood.
‘Podesta, you have no vote.’
‘I know that. I know nobody asked my opinion either. I’m giving it anyway. Some have argued that a wider franchise would be fairer; I don’t know about that. But there is the practical consideration of stability. Whatever little you earn you’ll lose if there’s a revolt.’
‘Even the Small People know tax is a fact of life,’ the brewer started.
‘That’s true,’ Levi admitted, ‘but they also know the less of it, the better. And if you insist on raising a new tax, I’d hope it was going to pay for something more useful than this—’
‘Like defence I suppose,’ said Fabbro crossly. ‘The Hawk’s Company is quite enough of a drain as it is. Be seated, Podesta.’
The notary called for the vote and the Wool Guild’s cascade of ayes led the way.
After the meeting, Pedro caught up with Sofia on the bridge. ‘Sofia, wait up! I’m sorry. I should have told you I went to Concord.’
‘You shouldn’t have gone!’
‘My gonfaloniere ordered me to survey the canal; what was I to do?
‘Refuse! Some people still don’t understand that we survived the siege because we had Giovanni, but I know you do. You not only endangered yourself playing spy, you endangered Rasenna.’
‘I admit it was risky – that doesn’t mean the canal’s a bad idea. The rest of the priors are greedy dogs, but Fabbro’s no fool. Levi’s proved that patriotic arguments don’t move the Ariminumese. We can’t afford to be irrational now of all times. Giovanni never was—’ Pedro stopped himself as soon as he saw Sofia’s reaction. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—’
‘No, maybe you’re right,’ Sofia said. ‘I’m just a little tired today.’
She left him standing there and crossed the bridge and Piazza Stella slowly. She climbed the slope of the healthy hills, and then Tower Scaligeri’s stairway. By the time she reached her chamber she was breathing hard. A month ago she could navigate Rasenna’s rooftops without breaking a sweat; now she was earthbound. As soon as she closed the door behind her she threw herself on the bed, pouring her tears on the pillow.
What was wrong with her? Pedro might very well be right: she was angry with Fabbro, but that was nothing unusual. Rather than persuasion, he always liked to present the Signoria with a fait accompli. The only thing unusual was that this time, Pedro had gone along with it. She touched her stomach protectively as she raised her head and looked out the window. The sun gleamed on the golden angel on the locker. What else did she expect? The buio waiting for her to tell her it had all been a terrible mistake? She wondered sometimes if it had been a dream, but the as-yet imperceptible swell of her belly said otherwise.