Heart of Glass

32





The Doge invites me to his private rooms for refreshment. Beyond the walls, we can hear the crowds calling angrily. A servant hastily goes to shut the window.

A marble table laden with fruit and jugs of water and wine stands at the far end of the room, and paintings line the wood-paneled walls. A couch upholstered in mulberry satin sits in the center of the room, beneath a chandelier, and the Doge indicates that I should sit. He nods curtly to a servant, who hastens over to the table and fills a plate, bringing it to us.

I reach out for a slice of melon, but as I lift it to my lips, nausea squirms in my stomach. Carefully, I place the fruit back on its plate.

“You must eat,” the Doge tells me, smiling kindly. He’s lost one son to death and now another has disappeared into the streets of Venice, yet he’s concerned about my welfare. There is more to this man than power alone.

As I try to eat again, the Doge clears his throat.

“It is important you know the truth,” he says, rubbing his brow. “I had nothing to do with Roberto’s disappearance.”

I’m sure he can’t read my own dark suspicions about the Segreta’s involvement. “But where could he be?”

There’s a noise from the doorway, and a servant is standing there.

“You have a visitor,” he announces, looking awkward. “Prince Halim requests an audience.”

“Then you must show him in,” the Doge says. I catch the merest tremble in his hand as he adjusts his doublet.

A moment later, Halim strides the room, his eyes sparking. Palace soldiers accompany him and station themselves around the room. The prince’s own men follow him, empty scabbards at their sides, as they’ve had to relinquish their weapons. Halim’s steps falter for a moment when he sees me, but he focuses on the Doge. “Justice has deserted Venice,” he says.

The Doge gestures to the table. “Help yourself to refreshments.”

Halim’s eyes narrow. “I was promised that my sister’s killer would meet his end today.” The prince doesn’t even look at me. “Roberto should have lost his head by now. Instead, I hear rumors of escape. It seems … convenient.”

The Doge shakes his head. “Come. Sit down. No one here had anything to do with Roberto’s disappearance. I’m as surprised as you are.”

Halim begins pacing the room, turning in slow circles. Faruk has sidled into the room also, watching the Doge with a smirk of disdain. “You expect us to believe that the most powerful man in Venice doesn’t know how his prisoner escaped?” he says. “His son?”

Halim reaches down towards his boot and pulls out a knife. The soldiers in the corners of the room lurch to attention, but Halim picks a peach from a tray and begins to cut it into slices, allowing the juice to drip over the Doge’s rugs.

“You should know,” he says, all his attention on the fruit, “that fifty of my finest ships are stationed along the coast.” He smiles coldly at the Doge, who listens, his face strained. Halim enunciates his next words carefully, as if placing chess pieces on a board. “If Roberto is not found and delivered to me within ten days, I will sail on Venice as an enemy.” His voice turns as cold as the grave. “I will tear this city apart.”

My gasp is the loudest sound in the room, and Halim’s attention shifts. He sends me an almost imperceptible shake of the head, as if to say, My vengeance is not meant for you. Then he drops the remains of the fruit back onto the platter and walks out of the room, his men following.

When I look back at the Doge, he sinks down onto the bench, dropping his head in his hands. His voice comes out muffled. “Call an emergency council.” The servants rush to do his bidding and the two of us are left alone, for a few moments at least.

“What can be done?” I ask.

The Doge looks up at me, a defeated old man. “I was going to ask you the same question.”

Over the following hour, as the Doge’s servants spread across the city, members of the Grand Council gather at the palace. I don’t know what I should do, or where I should be, so I remain where I am. As the old men, my father included, fill the room, I notice they huddle roughly into two groups.

“She shouldn’t be here,” says one man, pointing at me.

“Let her stay,” the Doge retorts. “There’s nothing she doesn’t already know, and she understands Roberto better than any of us.”

I’m not sure the Doge is right. Over the past days, I’ve started to wonder if I know Roberto at all. So many are convinced of his guilt. And then there is the letter Halim produced, the secret escape.… It’s like watching the actions of a stranger. But I’m glad I have the privilege of attending this meeting. If nothing else, I will be able to report back to the Segreta when the time is right.

The Doge quickly outlines Halim’s threats. When he’s finished, a Councilor speaks.

“We must find your son, at once. Guards must scour the city.”

“And if we cannot find him?” says the Doge.

“We must ready ourselves for war, then.”

“No,” the Doge says. “On principle, I will not go to war over a prince’s fury at not getting his own way. Venice is better than that!”

“Damn your principles!” the man argues. “We don’t have time for them. Things are already out of control. I insist we take practical action, not sit around hoping that Roberto turns up.”

The Doge sends him a smile that could cut through glass. “It is not for you or anyone else to insist on anything. I am still your leader.”

The Councilor flushes. He darts a glance at the other men, and they in turn adjust their bodies until they all face one man standing just inside the door. I hadn’t even spotted him before—the Admiral, the Bear.

“Massimo,” the Doge says. “How much have you heard? We were just discussing—”

“I know what you were discussing,” he says. He almost seems to fill the room as he steps inside. His broad shoulders and calloused hands speak of many wars fought and won. This is a man who doesn’t like to lose. “We must prepare ourselves for the fight ahead.”

“There will be no fight,” says the Doge.

“At a time like this,” Massimo says, “we need strong men to lead us. Men with vision.” He leaves the rest unspoken, but his meaning is clear.

The Doge shakes his head and looks around the room, from one man to the next. Like a row of dominoes falling, each in turn drops his eyes to the floor.

“Soldiers!” the Doge says. “Escort Massimo from the palace!”

Silence poisons the air. Not a single man moves to follow the Doge’s commands. The guards look only to the Admiral.

“See?” says Massimo. “The cards have already been played.”

“I see treachery,” says the Doge.

“It’s nothing like that,” says Massimo. “Every man in this room is loyal to Venice. The Council and I have reached an agreement. All we need now is for you to see our point of view. I will take control peacefully, until the threat to Venice’s safety has passed. You’re ill and you’re sick with grief at all that’s happened. Allow us to help you.” He holds out a hand, inviting the Doge to shake it. “It will save face all round.”

“And if I refuse?” the Doge asks, ignoring the extended hand.

Massimo spreads his palms like a reasonable man. “Then you’re the biggest threat Venice has.”

The Doge glances from man to man, in one last desperate appeal for support. No one says a word. I’m glad the Duchess Besina is not present to witness her husband’s humiliation.

“So be it,” the Doge says, his voice trembling. “But only for the good of Venice.” He backs away from the men who were once his closest advisers. “Laura, accompany me.”

Roberto’s father leaning heavily on my arm, we cross the room.

“Goodbye, old man,” one of the Councilors whispers to his back. A few of the others join in with low laughter.

I can’t keep quiet any longer. “Who would have thought it?” I say as we pause in the doorway. “Snakes in the heart of Venice.”