States of Grace (Saint-Germain #18)

States of Grace (Saint-Germain #18) Page 26

The young clerk handed di Santo-Germano the copy of his formal complaint. "If this is accurate, please affix your signet here." He indicated a place at the bottom of the page, his manner as officious as his position was subordinate.

Di Santo-Germano read the copy carefully, then offered the clerk a Spanish silver Emperor. "For your good service. If I may have wax?" He was in an elegant doublet-and-dogaline of black-damask silk, the turned-back dogaline sleeves lined in deep-red satin. His hose ended just above the knee and were secured with small silver buckles set with rubies; his camisa was silk edged in lace, of perfect whiteness. Only the thick soles on his shoes were a bit unfashionable, but that was a minor flaw in an otherwise faultless appearance.

"Here," said the clerk, offering a box of hard sealing-wax tapers and a lit candle. "This should serve your purpose."

"Thank you," said di Santo-Germano, selecting the darkest-red wax in the box and setting its wick to burn. "How soon before this complaint is presented?"

"No more than ten days; I am not at liberty to say more than that," said the clerk. "You have powerful friends here in Venezia, and they have urged the court to act swiftly."

"Then I must thank my Venezian friends, for advancing my cause so speedily," said di Santo-Germano, who had already done so. He dropped the hot wax with care and used his signet ring to impress his eclipse device on the wax. "There. The original will remain with you until the case is heard?"

"That is the procedure." The clerk studied the seal. "This will serve very well."

"Excellent," di Santo-Germano said, and glanced toward the window and the shiny fog. "I shall await your notification of when my presence is required."

"The case will proceed whether or not we find Signor' Emerenzio." The clerk pointed to the door, a hint that their business was finished. "That much is assured."

"So I understand," said di Santo-Germano. "I am prepared to wait for my judgment if I must."

"You realize that since you are a foreigner, the state is not responsible for providing redress for the theft, since Gennaro Emerenzio is a Venezian." This last caveat was delivered hesitantly, as if the clerk feared that di Santo-Germano might become irate.

"That was explained to me when I first opened my trading company here, taking over from my cousin, as you will see in your records," said di Santo-Germano, preparing to leave.

"There may be other witnesses at your hearing," the clerk warned.

"I understand," said di Santo-Germano.

"The advocates will be allowed to present evidence about you that has no direct bearing on this case. You understand that, too?" The clerk was speaking as if by rote, and he paid almost no attention to the response di Santo-Germano made.

"As an exile living in Venezia, the court is permitted wider leeway with this case, as it is being brought against a Venezian. I understand."

"Very good," said the clerk, rapidly losing interest in the foreigner, and taking up the tone of ill-concealed tedium.

"Do you require anything more of me?" di Santo-Germano asked.

"If we do, you will be notified by one of our messengers," said the clerk. "There is nothing more we need from you today."

"Fine," said di Santo-Germano, and left the clerk's office, bound for the water-steps and Ca' Fosian.

In answer to his signal, Milano drew up di Santo-Germano's gondola to the loading step, saying as he did, "I believe you are being followed, Conte."

"Very likely," said di Santo-Germano, settling down in the boat. "Ca-"

"Fosian. I remember," said Milano, starting out of the Rivi Sotto la Piazza and into the Bacino di San Marco where a number of ships were being unloaded-ships with the colors and banners of more than two dozen ports. Milano moved among these much larger vessels with the ease of expertise. "They say three merchant-ships were taken by corsairs, and three galleys. The oarsmen are now chained to an Ottoman pirate's bench, if they aren't dead."

"Has there been any talk of ransom?" di Santo-Germano asked.

"Not yet, but very likely we will hear something soon." He skirted a pair of barges. "If the crews are to be ransomed, all merchants will have to contribute to the payment-foreigner merchants in particular."

"I would assume so," said di Santo-Germano.

"Another charge on your purse," Milano said indignantly.

"I can bear it, if it is not too outrageous a sum." He put his hand to his brow, for the thin fog glared and the water shone so harshly that his night-seeing eyes began to ache.

Milano saw this, and said, "I will keep watch, Conte. You have nothing to fear." He cocked his chin in the direction of a northern ship flying the colors of Lubeck. "Those Protestants will bear the brunt of the cost of the ransoms this time, and with the blessings of the Pope and the Emperor."

"Doesn't that strike you as a fine as much as a ransom?" di Santo-Germano asked.

"Yes, and who better to bear it?" Milano pushed the oar firmly and the gondola slipped across the Bacino di San Marco, toward Ca' Fosian.

"The merchants whose men are captured," said di Santo-Germano. "In the past I have always paid the ransoms asked for my men."

"Except the last time," Milano reminded him.

Di Santo-Germano's demeanor changed subtly, but emphatically. "Yes; a most deplorable consequence of his theft. Of all things, that is the one that Emerenzio must answer for more than the rest: that he let men in my employ die needlessly-" He stopped. "As I shall ask the courts to determine."

"May God favor your cause, Conte," said Milano. For the next several minutes, Milano was occupied with guiding his craft, and kept his concentration on his efforts. He negotiated the narrow space between two other gondole, then moved off down the Gran' Canale.

"How very deft you are," di Santo-Germano said when they were nearing Ca' Fosian. "I should not be very long; Consiglier Fosian asked to have a moment of my time when I was through with the clerk."

"Very good. I will go to La Onda Bianca for a glass of wine." He nodded to the small tavern a short distance from Ca' Fosian. "You may find me there if I am not here."

"Very good," said di Santo-Germano, tossing two copper coins to Milano as he got out of the gondola. "Enjoy yourself."

"Tante grazie," said Milano, shoving his oar to get moving again.

Di Santo-Germano climbed the three steps to the loggia where he was met by the under-steward, who welcomed the Conte to Ca' Fosian and asked whose name he should announce. "I am Franzicco Ragoczy di Santo-Germano here to see Consiglier Fosian. I believe he is expecting me."

"So he is," said the under-steward. "He is in his counting-room, where-"

"Where he would prefer I not go," said di Santo-Germano with unflustered affability. "I would not expect him to receive guests in that chamber; I am not discontented."

"How good of you to understand," said the under-steward as he led di Santo-Germano to a small, beautiful reception room. "Is there any refreshment you would like?"

"I think not, thank you," said di Santo-Germano. He selected a Turkish chair upholstered in fine tooled leather and moved it so that it was not quite so near the window and the water beyond. He sat down, smiling as its jointed frame shifted to accommodate him, and smiled. "This is quite satisfactory."

The under-steward withdrew, returning to his post in the loggia.

In less than half an hour, Orso Fosian came into the reception room, saying as he did, "My brother will be joining us shortly, di Santo-Germano. There are a few matters we would do well to review."

This lack of formal greeting alerted di Santo-Germano that something was wrong, but nothing in his manner or expression revealed this as he rose to his feet and said, "I am delighted to be a guest in your house, Consiglier, and I thank you for being willing to discuss my pending case with you."

"You may not be when this meeting is through," Fosian said with a deepening frown. "But I ask you to believe that these problems are not of my making-nor, I suspect, are they of yours. I doubt you would do anything so foolish as the claim declares. Were it my decision to make, we would handle this more privately, and with fewer issues brought into it."

"I see that it has caused you some distress," said di Santo-Germano, who had only the first inkling of what Fosian was talking about. "Then you have my full attention."

"For which I am grateful. Some men would not tolerate any mention of such a calumny as this one and would leave my house for saying even this much. You have a cooler head than most, which you will need before this is over." He clapped his hands and told the footman who appeared almost upon the instant, "Bring me wine, the dark-red from Torrecella, and some new bread."

"At once," said the footman, and hurried away.

"He will probably bring glasses and bread for two," said Fosian.

"No matter. You will have them for your brother," said di Santo-Germano, wondering which of Orso Fosian's three brothers was expected: one was on the Galley of Romania and was not likely to return to Venezia for another month, leaving two other brothers in Venezia.

"Yes," said Fosian, continuing as if he knew what di Santo-Germano was thinking, "Segalo will be joining us."

"From the Arsenal," said di Santo-Germano.

"Exactly. His duty there ended a quarter hour ago and he will come here directly." Fosian pulled at his short, gristled beard. Finally he cleared his throat, then said awkwardly, "I am afraid that certain circumstances have ... have been allowed to become a part of your hearing that may-" He broke off as another gondola arrived. "Ah. Segalo is here."

"I shall be glad to renew my acquaintance with him," di Santo-Germano said, turning toward the door.

"Segalo Fosian," announced the under-steward as he admitted the new arrival to the reception room.

Seven years younger than his brother Orso, Segalo Fosian was dressed in a heavy canvas doublet and leather hose with grieves over his lower legs. He was well-muscled and broad-shouldered; white knots of scars on his hands attested to the hard labor he supervised at the Arsenal. There was a skeptical cast to his features that was not present in Orso's face, and this sharpened as he took stock of the two men in the room. He went to touch cheeks with his brother, then swung around and looked steadily at di Santo-Germano, his face twisted with concentration. "Well," he announced as he completed his swift inspection, "he doesn't look like a kidnapper, I'll say that much. That may be of some help when you appear at the hearing."

"What does a kidnapper look like?" di Santo-Germano asked, bemused.

"Not like a dignitary," said Segalo. "Or like a man able to handle his own affairs without recourse to scoundrels."

In spite of his formidable composure, di Santo-Germano blinked in surprise. "I should think not."

"There are those who say otherwise in your regard, or there would be no reason for concern-men much closer to the Savii and the Minor Consiglio than you are-no insult to you, Orso," he appended.

"I didn't suppose so," said Orso Fosian quietly. "But I had not yet explained to di Santo-Germano what has transpired in the last two days. You stole the wind from me on this, Segalo."

"Oh." He looked from his brother to di Santo-Germano. "I thought you must know by now. I never meant to distress you."

"You have not-not yet, in any case," said di Santo-Germano, moving back toward the Turkish chair. "Whom am I believed to have kidnapped?"

Orso made a fussy gesture with his gnarled hands. "There's time enough to discuss this after we have had some wine and bread."

"Yes, indeed," said Segalo. "You cannot think what a-" He broke off at a signal from his brother. "I have heard," he went on to di Santo-Germano, "that you left an account to pay ransoms for your oarsmen and crews, and it is as empty as all the rest. Badly done, very badly done."

"It was," said di Santo-Germano, "and all the more so because some of those oarsmen and crew have died because of it."

The footman knocked before bringing wine and bread into the room, along with a plate of broiled scallops. He set these on an ornate table from Trebizond, then left the three men alone.

"Take what pleases you," said Orso, reaching for the bottle of wine and one of the three glasses. As he poured, he said, "Some have been saying that you never had money in the ransom account-that you claimed you did, only so men would sign on with you, believing you had enough to ransom them, if that should be needed." He handed the glass to his brother, then poured a glass for himself.

"That would be very foolish of me, as well as contrary to Venezian law," said di Santo-Germano, once again giving no sign of being flustered.

"I hope you will be so sensible in days to come," said Segalo. "You must know that all you do is being scrutinized."

"So I hope," said di Santo-Germano, "for I have done nothing to give countenance to the suspicions you mention."

"You are a clever man," said Segalo, although it was unclear whether this was intended as praise or blame.

Orso clicked his tongue, then held up his glass. "To your vindication, di Santo-Germano."

Segalo raised his glass as well, but said nothing before tasting his wine. Then he looked squarely at di Santo-Germano. "Do you know Leoncio Sen?"

The directness of the question shocked Orso, who tried to intervene. "For the Saints and the Sea! have a little tact."

Di Santo-Germano regarded Segalo steadily. "I believe I know who he is. But am I acquainted with him-no, I am not, although I have a slightly nearer familiarity with the man I think is his uncle, Christofo Sen."

Orso faced Segalo, gesturing for a little less heat from his brother. "You see? I told you this man has no reason to do the thing he is accused of doing. He is being manipulated for the benefit of someone else. What purpose would incline di Santo-Germano to kidnap Leoncio Sen? What would he gain from it?"

"Money," said Segalo bluntly. "If you will pardon me, di Santo-Germano, a fortune has been taken from you, and you may need to recoup some of your losses as quickly as possible. What better way than a swift payment of a ransom?"

To both Fosian brothers' discomposure, di Santo-Germano laughed. "If this is the result of such a ploy, it makes no sense at all that I should do it." He ducked his head, considering the charge Segalo had leveled at him. "If I were to choose someone to kidnap, it would not be a lesser relative of an important official, as I recall Leoncio is, but a man of high standing and great personal fortune, not presently in Venezia, and without the close connection to the Savii, and the Doge."

"Most interesting," said Segalo. "So you have thought about it."

"Not as a thing to do, no," said di Santo-Germano. "But having paid three large ransoms for my crews and oarsmen-as the Minor Consiglo is aware I have done-I cannot help but think about the implications of kidnapping, and I will apply my conclusions to this situation." He stood very still, his presence made more imposing by his lack of movement. "Even if I were a Venezian, and therefore protected from certain ... shall we say? ... oddities of law, I would be reckless to try to kidnap a Venezian in Venezia, where surely he is better known than I am. Leoncio Sen has done nothing to me to warrant my displeasure, so I can think of no benefit I would gain from putting him in harm's way."

Segalo downed the rest of his wine in a single draught. "There could be other reasons for your kidnapping Sen."

"And what would they be?" di Santo-Germano asked pleasantly.

"Leoncio Sen has been known to gamble with Gennaro Emerenzio, and has won money from him on several occasions," said Segalo, raising his voice and taking a step toward the foreigner in black.

"All the more reason for me not to remove Leoncio Sen from the reach of the courts," said di Santo-Germano. "I want to find Emerenzio, not give him more opportunity to escape."

Orso refilled Segalo's glass, making an attempt to interrupt the sharp exchange between his brother and his guest without being obvious about it. "Now, Segalo, think. What di Santo-Germano has said is sensible. If he presents his pleading in such a manner to the court as he has to us, he must convince the judges of his innocence of those charges."

"But, as a foreigner, he will have to provide proof of all his statements," said Segalo, a little less belligerently than before.

"So I might," said di Santo-Germano, "and I thank you for telling me what I might expect at the hearing."

Segalo snorted his incredulity. "You are hardly a man to be overwhelmed with gratitude, I would guess."

"Not overwhelmed," di Santo-Germano agreed. "But I do know the value of forethought, and you have provided me that." He glanced at Orso. "I thank you, too, for furnishing me this opportunity."

"I hadn't thought it would be so-"

Segalo glared at his brother. "I think you may want to keep some distance from this man." He stared at di Santo-Germano. "I intend nothing to your discredit; I want only to save my brother from any taint of impropriety."

"Which you fear my friendship may inspire," said di Santo-Germano. "I understand, and I will not subject you to the compromising potential of my presence." He bowed slightly to Segalo and then, a bit more courteously, to Orso. "I appreciate your help in these difficult times, Consiglier. I trust, when all of this is over, we may resume our cordiality." Saying this, he went to the door and let himself out, then made his way to the loggia and the landing steps where Milano was waiting.

"Is there trouble?" Milano asked as he helped di Santo-Germano into the gondola.

"There is trouble already," said di Santo-Germano, "but it comes from an unexpected direction." He pressed his lips together as if to keep himself from speaking, then said, "You and the other gondolieri exchange information, I suppose."

"I will not gossip," said Milano.

"I am not asking you to," said di Santo-Germano. "But if you should hear about a young blade being abducted a short time ago, I ask you to find out all you can concerning the incident, and report it to me, if you will."

"Why should I do this?" Milano asked, curious at this request.

"Because there are those, apparently, who have said I am responsible for it, and if I cannot divert suspicion from me in that regard, I may never be able to press my case against Gennaro Emerenzio," said di Santo-Germano. "This is one thing Ruggier is in no position to do-he is as foreign as I am."

Milano leaned into his oar as he considered this request. Finally, as he maneuvered between a small barge and a fisherman's lanteen-rigged boat, he said, "If I hear anything more than speculation, I will inform you, Conte."

"There are three ducats for you if you bring reliable information." Di Santo-Germano closed his eyes and leaned back as Milano continued to row for the Rivi San Luca.

Text of a letter from Erneste Amsteljaxter in Amsterdam to Grav Saint-Germain in care of the Conte di Santo-Germano, Campo San Luca in Venezia, written in scholars' Latin and carried by business courier; delivered seventeen days after it was written.

To the most excellent Grav Saint-Germain, the greetings from Erneste Amsteljaxter on this, the first day of October, 1531, the city of Amsterdam, with the assurance that I have not sent this to impose upon your most generous nature, not to inform you of any mishap, but to describe our present circumstances here:

I have been to see Mercutius Christermann at Eclipse Press to discuss the possibility of doing a book of tales told by women. I would ask women to tell me their tales; then I would write them down and he would publish them. He said he would only undertake such a venture if I secured your permission first, for which I am now applying. If you are willing to have such a book appear from Eclipse Press, then I would contrive to have the work completed by the end of 1533. I ask you to consider your answer carefully, and to weigh the advantages against the disadvantages in providing such tales to the public. I have made bold to approach you on this matter because of your approval of the folk tales you have already published. Mercutius Christermann has reminded me of all the problems inherent in such a project, so you need not reiterate them for me. But I believe there is merit in this undertaking, as well as folk tales not often recorded that would be of interest to scholars in many places.

At present there are six women living with me in this house: one is still married, but she has sought refuge from her husband, who beats her: her priest has not approved her separation, and so we have said that she is the step-sister of one of the women already resident here, whom she has come to nurse. The others here are widows whose husbands left them without means, and who lack family to succor them. They have no wish to have to beg for their bread. The oldest among them is forty-three, and a grandmother; the youngest is seventeen. Had you not made this house available to me without conditions imposed, I could not have extended my hand to these women, and so I thank you most profoundly for your kindness to me, and by extension, to these women.

Rudolph Eschen has been to visit this house, and he has advised me not to take in any more women until he can present a declaration to the courts that my purposes here are charitable and have your endorsement; one of the Spanish captains has accused me of running an improper house, and has asked that the women be branded as harlots if they continue to live here. I am following his instruction, and I will continue to do so until you advise me otherwise. I have no intention of doing anything that might endanger the function to which I have decided to dedicate this house.

On other matters, I fear my brother has run into another patch of trouble, and I have sent him twenty ducats to provide him support for the next several months, or until he can gain another position. He has pledged to pay me back in full, but this cannot occur until he has found appropriate employment. I ask you, if it is not too great an imposition, to look about for a post he could obtain. I know Onfroi's intentions are of the best, but he has yet to establish himself in the world and until he does, much of his support must come from me-and without you, I would have no support to share with him, so I appeal to you, for my sake and yours, to help Onfroi.

I look forward to your good counsel in these arduous times and ask you again to add your voice to preserving that which you have made possible. A sworn licence from you in regard to my intentions and obligations as approved by you would aid Advocate Eschen in dealing with the Spanish and the courts. Of all matters in this letter, that is the most urgent, and I trust you will be able to supply Eschen with what he requires before the end of the year.

With my thanks and my prayers,

Your most allegiant,

Erneste Amsteljaxter