Eric Flint - This Rough Magic

Maria stared in puzzlement at the contessa. One minute she was telling Maria about a mess that could end in rioting-the next telling her about some ancient myth.

"How do you know all this, milady?"

The contessa shrugged. "It's a very old story. Or do you mean about the Greek workers' wives? People tell me things. I don't betray confidences, but I do sometimes act. This time I think I shall have to act. They can't remain a secret, but if the guild supports us in this… Well, it will be very difficult for the captain-general to make a fuss. I know Nico Tomaselli. He is likely to try to expel them, and certainly won't feed them. Now, the guild is in control of those sheds, and the Arsenalotti are not an inconsiderable force. Any attempt to throw the women out could cause a riot or even a breaching of the walls, if the Arsenalotti get involved."

"Besides, they're our own," said Maria resolutely. "You leave this with me, milady. I'll talk to Umberto."

The Contessa smiled. She took a small crystal bottle out of the pouch hanging from her chatelaine. "You may find this helps with your… talk." She laughed. "Sometimes men need to be distracted before they'll listen. I find a dab of this behind my ears even these days has the power to obtain my husband's full attention."

Maria blushed. "Milady. It is not necessary."

The contessa stood up. "I know. But I think you will enjoy it."

Another thought occurred to Maria. "Milady. I… am friends with Francesca de Chevreuse."

Maria expected disapproval. Instead she got another little laugh. "She has all the respectable matrons of this town in a terrible state! Mostly self-righteousness tinted with envy, I think. Do tell her that her attempts at information gathering have been reported to my husband."

That was more than a little alarming. But Maria persisted. "I could get her to ask the Knights to help."

The contessa shook her head. "This really is our own affair, Maria. We should handle it."

The contessa was scarcely around the corner when Stella reappeared.

"All right," she said with a terrier look on face. "Tell all. What has she got you to do?"

Maria hadn't thought of a good story yet. "Ah. Well she wanted to ah… ask me to get Umberto to organize something down at the Little Arsenal. Nothing important, but she did ask me to keep it a secret. And Stella, I can't tell you and keep anything a secret. It'll be a nice surprise for her husband." Maria thought that was a good touch. The podesta was a renowned naturalist, collecting everything from butterflies to eggs. Surely Stella would assume it was a special cabinet or something.

Stella snorted. "It must be those Corfiote women hidden down in the Arsenal."

Maria gaped at her. "How-?"

Stella shrugged. "The contessa is forever helping women. So it had to be a women's problem, and if it involves Umberto and the Little Arsenal, then that must be it."

"But how did you know about it?"

"I have my sources."

Maria scowled at her. "I need to know."

Stella looked mischievous. "If you must know, Alberto found them. He went up to the top sheds to look for some missing tools a few days ago. They've got lookouts, and they hide if someone goes to the timber-stores. But Alberto took a shortcut up the wall. He's lazy, and it saved him a walk. So he came up to the upper gate very suddenly. A couple of the big porters tried to head him off, but you know Alberto, he's like pig after truffles when he gets onto something. And he speaks Greek so he gets on with the boys. So… because he was a friend of theirs, they put off hitting him over the head until it was too late. There was a bit of a scuffle, but my Alberto is quite solid."

He was indeed. A very large, amiable man. "And what happened then?"

"Well, you know what Alberto's like. Soft as goose grease with children. Of course he promised he wouldn't tell a soul." Stella smirked. "I had it out of him in two shakes. He's like you, Maria. A terrible liar."

"And so? Does the whole town know?"

"Not from me. It's all very well saying they shouldn't be there, but what kind of person would leave them outside the walls? The Croats and Hungarians-" She shuddered. "They're like wolves with two legs, Maria. But somebody else has found out about them. I've heard two juicy rumors about it already, as I said to Francesca."

Well, then. "I think you should take me down there to meet them. The contessa's right. This is going to blow wide open soon, and I'll need to work on Umberto about this. The scuolo need to stand by them."

"Most of the guildsmen don't like the Corfiotes much," said Stella doubtfully.

"But they like the Case Vecchie trespassing on their areas even less," Maria pointed out. "The scuolo are touchy about their rights and privileges. The porters and laborers at the Little Arsenal are ours. And if I can convince Umberto of this, and you get Alberto to back him up, we'll be able to sway the rest of them."

Stella pulled a wry face. "Especially if that idiot Tomaselli puts all their backs up like he usually manages to do." Her eyes lit up. "The latest malicious gossip is about Sophia, believe it or not. She's been slipping out of the fortress to come and see a lover down in the old town!"

Maria snorted. "I didn't think anyone was that desperate."

Stella giggled in a worldly-wise fashion. "Honey, there are some men that would make love to a hole in the wall. And others, like Alberto, who would just fall asleep. I'm going to ration his wine soon."

"If you take me down to meet the women hiding out in the wood-store, I'll give you a drop of this perfume to put behind your ears." Maria showed her the bottle. "It was given to me by the contessa. She guaranteed it would even wake her old man up."

Stella chuckled throatily. "If it can wake that old man up, it should be called resurrection juice, not perfume. You're on, sister."

When Maria went down to the wood-store with Stella, she was shocked by the thinness of the women, and by their obvious desperation.

"We can't go on like this, kyria," said one young girl-barely sixteen and trying to nurse a pair of twins. "I just don't have milk for them any more."

Maria took a deep breath. "We're going to sort this out. By tomorrow. Nobody should have to starve like this."

"We expected the siege to be over in a few weeks at most. When will help come from Venice?" asked an older woman bitterly. "Are we only worth keeping as expendable serfs, and not worth protecting?"

Maria looked her straight in the eye. "Venice had to be told before they could mount a rescue. And the Island is blockaded. You know that. I can tell you this much-a messenger has gone over to Italy, taking word to Venice, a clever messenger, who can get past anything."

She wondered just where Benito was, and uttered a silent prayer for his well-being. "The Republic won't fail you. And the scuolo won't fail you either. Your men work for us. It's up to us to care for you."

She was surprised by the hastily hushed cheers.

That evening Umberto arrived home a little late and looking worried. He didn't even notice Maria's belladonna-widened eyes at first. He was just looking gray and stooped. He took the cup of wine gratefully from her hand, then swallowed a long, appreciative draft. And then blinked at his wife. "You're looking beautiful tonight, dear. And your hair is done up in that way I like so." His nose twitched. He smiled tiredly. "I'm a lucky man. And I don't appreciate you enough. And how is our little girl tonight?"

Maria felt truly guilty. Like a complete slut. "She's fine, asleep now," she said gruffly. She decided that directness and honesty suited her better than feminine wiles. She was better at those than seduction anyway. "Umberto. I need to talk to you about the wives of the Corfiote laborers."