Heart of Glass (24 page)

“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.”

33

The crowds have dispersed from the square, and several hundred soldiers are stationed around the edges. It feels as though the city has been invaded by some foreign enemy. I peer into the faces of everyone I pass, half expecting one of them to be Roberto. But of course he can’t risk showing himself. He’s in hiding, and I know who can tell me where.

I head across the Rialto Bridge to the house of Allegreza. The last time I was here, my leader refused to even look at me, but she must still retain some affection. After all, who if not the Segreta could have masterminded Roberto’s break out of jail?

I bring the
sea
serpent door knocker down hard and wait for the grumpy servant woman to let me in. She doesn’t look surprised to see me and swings the door open wide, stepping back into the hallway.

“You do like turning up without an appointment, don’t you?”

Allegreza sits framed in one of the open windows. Her
gray head bends over a tiny book that rests in her open palms, an illuminated letter glittering with gold foil.

“You’re back,” she says, without looking round. She closes the book slowly, and shifts in her chair, holding out a hand.

I take it. “I came to thank you,” I say.

“And what are you thanking me for?” She pulls her hand free.

I examine her features, searching for a glint of playfulness. On the contrary, she looks only confused. “But Roberto is free …,” I say.

Allegreza gets to her feet. Now we stand face to face, and she shrugs. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Laura, but the Segreta had nothing to do with his escape. He’s a clever boy.” She goes to a side table and reaches for a silver jug, pouring tea into two carved glasses. She passes one to me. “The Doge must have had a hand in it.”

“I don’t think so,” I say. “He seemed as surprised as I was, and now he’s paying the price.”

“What do you mean?”

I tell her what I witnessed in the Doge’s chamber. Allegreza is silent for some time, sipping her tea as she ponders my words.

“Massimo has always been ambitious,” she says at last, “but the Doge is a fool. This is no time for nepotism.”

“I told you, he had nothing to do with the escape.”

“Perhaps not,” she says. “You’d better go, Laura. And take care.”

I’m relieved to hear her voice soften. I cannot yet be forgiven for going to the convent, but I have started to make
amends. I curtsy and turn to go, when I hear the maidservant shouting. “Get out, get out! What do you think you’re doing? How dare you?”

Allegreza nods to me briskly and points towards the opposite door. I slip through a muslin curtain as a man’s voice warns, “Move aside, old crone.”

I look back through the curtain. Allegreza stands tall as a group of soldiers burst into the room and surround her.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” she asks. Her politeness could freeze the Lido.

The men look uncertainly from one to the other; then one steps forward and grasps Allegreza’s arm. The maid lets out a small scream of shock and hastily stuffs the hem of her apron into her mouth.

Allegreza calmly looks down at the man’s hand. “Take your paws off me,” she commands.

Slowly, awkwardly, he lets go of her. “You are to come with us, by order of the Grand Council,” he says.

Allegreza smiles and nods. “And what have I done to offend anyone?”

“You’re under arrest for the murder of a soldier.”

Murder? Have they too linked the Segreta to the jailbreak?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Allegreza.

“His name was Silvio.”

Allegreza frowns.

Silvio is dead? Not the guard at the prison at all, but the man we humiliated. This makes no sense.

“I’m afraid I still don’t understand,” says Allegreza. “Why would I have anything to do with a common soldier?”

“One of your
secrets
, is it?” asks the guard. The way he says the word, with a sneer, makes the blood drain from Allegreza’s face as it drains from mine.

They know of the Segreta. There have always been rumors, of course. But they know about Allegreza. They know who we are.

“Search the house,” says the soldier.

I slip outside before any of the soldiers has the chance to notice that I was there. I race down the marble steps and turn into the first alley I come to. I wait, my heart thumping, then hurry away from the house. I know exactly where I’m going.

Grazia’s apartments are down a small street just off the Calle dei Fabbri. But when I knock at the door, I discover that she’s absent.

“I don’t know where she is,” the young servant tells me. “You can leave a message if you like.”

I can’t help the sigh of exasperation that escapes me. “Tell her that Laura della Scala needs to speak with her.” I want to insist that it’s urgent, but I have more sense than that. I’ve already risked the confidentiality of the Segreta, coming here in the first place. It’s enough that Grazia knows I’ve called at her apartments. She’ll be in touch.

In the meantime, I have nothing left to do but wait. I walk away from Grazia’s home, towards the shoreline. I can barely think straight, so much has happened. Roberto is who knows where in Venice, the Doge is all but usurped, Allegreza arrested and … I spot three Turkish ships sailing away from our city, heading for the horizon. If Halim
was telling the truth, a whole fleet waits somewhere out there.

He’s promised to return in ten days.

I sink down on some dirt-stained steps and gaze out into the harbor. I don’t care if I sully my skirts.

The seas will not be calm for long.

34

I spend the next few days at home, and each day I expect a note from Roberto, some hint that he’s alive. I’ve asked Bella Donna to spread the word through her contacts, to tell me if anyone sees anything suspicious. The hope of news keeps me going, but nothing has come. How I long to see his face, or just hear his voice.

The curfew is still in place, following the action against the Doge. Faustina fusses and presses food on me, draws me baths and lays out my clothes. Even she has no homely wisdom to offer hope in these strange times. Father is deeply involved in the new revolutionary Council, and tells us that the Doge is confined to the palace. I treat him with the cold disdain he deserves, and this only makes his temper worse. Massimo insists the martial law is only temporary, but I know from this city’s troubled history that the reins of power, once grasped, are all but impossible to relinquish.

My brother is trying to entertain Emilia as best he can—which is difficult. Venice is no place for a couple in love right now, its streets full of dissent and revolution
since the foiled execution. The people think that justice has been snatched away from them, and they’re angry. Bianca tells us that the guards who allowed Roberto to escape were later dragged out onto the stage and flogged almost to death.

This morning, Faustina has come to my bedroom to style my hair, twisting blonde locks into intricate braids. I reach over my shoulder and take the silver comb from her, drawing her hand down to rest against my cheek.

“Thank you for looking after me,” I tell her.

She shakes her head and takes the comb back. “Stop being so sentimental,” she chides, concentrating on a tangle of hair. She won’t look at my reflection, and I know she’s trying not to cry. We’ve both been doing a lot of that, these past days. I, for Roberto and everything that’s happened. Faustina, because she cannot bear to see me distressed.

“It sounds far-fetched to me,” Emilia’s voice rings up the stairs.

“I wish I could say the same thing,” says Lysander. “I’ve always wondered what women can gossip about for hours.”

They pass my door, and I see Lysander rearrange his features from a smile to something more somber. He’s clutching a pamphlet. “I’m sorry, Laura. I thought you were out.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” I say as brightly as possible. “Life can’t stop because of my troubles. What’s that you have?”

Emilia smiles at me. “They were giving them out at a stall,” she says. “Apparently, there’s a secret society of women running Venice behind the scenes.”

“A secret society!” says Faustina. She guffaws heartily. “Because women really have nothing better to do, what with all the laundry and cooking, housework, sewing.…”

“They say it’s noblewomen,” puts in Emilia. “But still, it seems absurd.”

I keep my voice calm. “Can I see?”

Lysander holds the pamphlet out and I take in the silly woodcut print of a group of women in witches’ caps, their faces twisted with ugly smiles as they huddle together. The drawing is rough and unsophisticated, clearly done in a rush. The words tell of a coven of she-demons intent on undermining the morals of our city. Silvio, it reports, was found dead in his bed, his throat cut. It asks for God’s help in hunting down the black-hearted women. I stand up, knocking my stool back.

“Are you all right?” says Lysander, studying my face.

The pamphlet bears the mark of the Admiralty—it’s Massimo’s work.

“Quite all right,” I reply, handing the pamphlet back. “How ridiculous.”

“The city is troubled enough without secret societies meting out their own justice.” He waves the pamphlet in the air. “They killed an innocent man!” He reads aloud from the bottom. “ ‘Justice has turned her eyes from this cabal of women for too long. Now is the time to crack down!’ ” Lysander nods. “Lots of readers will agree with that.”

“How do you know?” I ask. Lysander looks at me in surprise.

“Laura, darling. Do you need to ask? These women are making a fool of Venice. Do you know who they’re led by? Allegreza, the Duchess’s cousin. Can’t you see? She’s
bringing shame on the Doge. This shouldn’t be happening. Whatever you think of Massimo’s tactics, this must be stopped.”

I pace the room. “But how?”

Lysander peers at the writing. “We’re being urged not to give shelter to any of these women or communicate with them. Apparently, Allegreza is in custody and being interrogated in the Piombi.”