Pip Vaughan-Hughes - The Vault of bones

'Querini, would you come in here, please?' he called. I heard a councillor give an unconcerned reply, and then Tiepolo threw up his hands and beat upon the frame of the door. WHEN?' he bellowed. Nicholas Querini had excused himself from the council chamber as soon as the Doge and I had withdrawn, and no one had thought anything of it. After Doge Tiepolo's outburst and the shocked silence that had followed it, an icy efficiency descended upon the council. Taking his place at the head of the table, the Doge, as calmly and carefully as a surgeon carving out a canker, laid out what I realised was my case against Querini. There was no dissent. But for Tiepolo's cry, there was scarce anything to show that these men were made of warm flesh and blood, so icily did they go about drawing up their orders. Giustiniano Zeno was to go at once to the Querini Palace with a company of soldiers, place Messer Nicholas under arrest, free the emperor should they find him – and there was marked scepticism on that point – and take possession of the Crown of Thorns.

I insisted on going with him. For, I told them, I was in effect not only the pope's agent but also Louis' and, at a stretch, Baldwin's as well. If the Crown were there it was my duty to ensure that it was safe and genuine. So far had the wheel of my fortune turned in the short space of time since I had stood before them as a hopeless wretch that they agreed without argument, and I was about to follow Zeno from the chamber when the Doge laid his hand upon my shoulder and crooked a finger at the soldier.

'Zeno, I do not wish any scandal to fall too hard upon the house of Querini,' he said softly. You will manage that?' Zeno nodded. 'Excellent. You look puzzled, young man,' he said to me. 'Hear this. The Querinis are, with the Tiepolos, the most powerful family in Venice. If they are weakened, the Republic weakens. I do not think Nicholas will be at the palazzo in San Polo. Please make a fuss, Zeno, a diversion. And then leave with Signor Petroc, and find Querini and this damnable Baldwin. Do it quietly, and settle it, if you can, to everyone's satisfaction.'

'Everyone's?' I asked him, daring to hold his gaze for the first time.

'The Republic comes first. The emperor will require some sop. Querini must not lose too much face. Otherwise, I care not. Ah. And my young friend. If you are playing us false, you shall not escape,' he told me, fixing me with his pitiless eyes. 'I have too much at stake’ I assured him. 'Such as?' he enquired.

'The confidence of popes and emperors’ I said, tapping the pope's letter and tucking it away in my tunic. 'But far more important than that, my commission.' And I took my leave of him, but not before I had caught a flicker of something in his face – not respect, to be sure, but perhaps a hint of recognition. All thieves, these Venetians, the Captain had said. Well, perhaps I would be welcome here after all.

A company, a full thirty men, had formed a column in the street behind the palace. They were mail-clad and armed with sword and buckler, and the first ten held pikes. Zeno took his place at the head, and I, having no idea what to do, fell in behind him. We set off in a jingle and stamp of iron-shod boots, and marched through the piazza of San Marco, dividing the crowds before us, and sending whirring clouds of pigeons into the sky. I found I knew the way we were going: back to the Quartarolo Bridge. People pressed themselves against the walls to let us by, some scowling, others catcalling, and the ever-present whores calling out their invitations. The bridge was whole again, and we made it writhe and skip as we banged across. One of the boatmen recognised me and called out some imprecation, and I, feeling somewhat tipsy with the turn my fortunes had taken, reached for my purse and threw him a gold piece, his pay for a month, no doubt, and he snatched it from the air and cursed me again, laughing this time.

The way is almost straight from the Riva Alta to the square where the Querinis' palace stands, and before we had gone far we could see some commotion in the distance, and soon the sound of women crying out in anger and mockery. Clattering into the square, we saw before us something that stopped every man in his tracks. For the place was full of women. The whores of San Cassiano had laid siege to the Palazzo Querini. They yelled up at the windows, and some were throwing old fruit and eggs, daubing the brick with juicy spatters. In front of the mob, standing before the palace door, stood Mother Zaneta, silent and grim, and beside her was Letice. When she saw me she gaped and thrust a fist into her mouth. I shook my head furiously and stifled my happy cry with both hands, for Zeno had scanned the crowd and found its leaders. I followed him towards the two women.

'Ladies, what means this?' he asked gruffly. The whores behind us were pulling up their clothes and flaunting themselves before the soldiers, who were beginning to shuffle their feet like bull-calves on a summers day. Letice had stepped behind the older woman and was attempting to question me with her eyes.

We have come to make a protest to Signor Nicholas Querini’ said Mother, with tight dignity. 'Some members of his household came to my place of business with weapons drawn, and disturbed my customers. Ah. And one of my employees has a broken arm’ she added. 'I require restitution, and these other delegates from the Campo San Cassiano are here in sympathy’

And the attackers? What of them?' said Zeno. He was running his gaze across the face of the building, no doubt looking for armed defenders. There seemed to be none.

'I am fortunate to have a doughty household myself’ said Mother Zaneta, icily. 'There’ She jerked her chin towards the canal, where three bodies lay, feet towards us.

'Good Christ, Signora!' exclaimed Zeno. 'But the Republic cannot allow.. ‘

'The Republic, Giustiniano Zeno, cannot allow its highest functionaries to be disturbed as they take their hard-won ease’ she said. And well you know it. Now. I would have you open that door’

As if commanded by the Doge himself, Zeno gathered himself and stalked over to the palace door. Drawing his sword with a flourish, he banged three times upon the wood. He had raised it again when the door swung open, to reveal a terrified woman, by her dress the housekeeper or governess. She was in a veritable ague of dread, and Zeno hurriedly sheathed his sword and, beckoning to me, stepped inside. Unbidden, Mother Zaneta and Letice followed.

'Messer Nicholas is not here!' squawked the poor woman. 'No one is here! Not Master Dardi, for he is in Greece; not Signor Facio

Who lies dead outside’ said Mother Zaneta, almost kindly. You should see to him. It does a man no honour for his corpse to be lying in the public way.' The housekeeper blinked and I thought she might faint, but Zeno helped her to a bench. The andron was filling up with servants, all peering from doorways and hiding behind pillars.

Where is Messer Nicholas?' asked Zeno kindly. The woman shook her head, hands pressed, white-knuckled, to her mouth. 'Do you know?' he pressed, with less patience. I knelt down and grasped the arms of the chair.

You must know’ I insisted, letting a little anger into my voice, for it was boiling up within me. But I got no answer, for now indeed the lady had fainted dead away.

'Let the soldiers in!' called Zeno to his sergeant, who was hovering in the doorway. 'Search the building. And post someone on the canal side.' There was a surge of noise outside, hootings and lusty laughter, as the soldiers filed in. They stamped into the hall, and the servants disappeared like rats in a haybarn when the doors are opened. There began a great clamour of banging doors and feet upon stairs, and Giustiniano Zeno had bent down to revive the housekeeper when Letice, with a glance at Mother, a glance that was met with the subtlest tilt of the old lady's head, stepped to my side.