Eric Flint - The Shadow of the Lion

Madelena's brow creased in puzzlement. "You'll know when it comes," hissed Kat. "Just do as I say."

When they entered the salon, Alessandra was inspecting her fingernails. She didn't even look up; just stared at Maria's bare feet. "Grandpapa said you'd gone out to fetch a new servant. It's about time we had some younger maids! I was going to say I need a new one, but I want someone who doesn't have dirty bare feet."

"She's not a servant, Alessandra!" snapped Kat. "She's a companion for my night expeditions."

Alessandra snorted. "It's a bit late for a duenna, isn't it? Your reputation's in tatters anyway."

"Not as much as yours, you slut," hissed Maria.

Alessandra finally looked up, straight into Maria's angry brown eyes. "You!" she screamed, leaping to her feet and retreating behind the chair. "You're supposed to be dead! Caesare?" She broke off, gasping.

Kat watched as Maria tensed that strong jaw. "Oh, Aldanto promises that about once a week," Maria said dismissively. "Doesn't he, Kat?"

Kat chuckled, as if caught by a memory which was half-fond, half-exasperated. The sort of sound a woman might make, thinking of a lover. "He is a liar. Not that he doesn't make up for it in bed."

Alessandra's face went from absolute white to blossoming little spots of red fury on her cheeks. "You lied to me, Katerina! You little thieving bitch!"

Kat shrugged and paid off the scores of the last six years. "You lied to me, too. You should have heard him laugh about you this afternoon."

"You lie! You lie!" screamed Alessandra. "I was with him this morning. Then he had to go to work this afternoon?God, I hate you. Thieving slut!"

Glancing to the side, Kat could see that her grandfather and Madelena were standing in the corridor just outside the salon. And had been there long enough, apparently, to have overheard the exchange. Just as she and Maria had planned. But…

The shocked, pale look on his face made her nervous. She suddenly remembered, a bit guiltily, that Lodovico Montescue was an old man, with an old man's heart.

Enough, she thought. I'd better not let this go any further.

"Calm down, Alessandra. I lied."

But Alessandra's mouth had a mind of its own, it seemed. "Yesss," she hissed. "You lie all the time. Caesare is mine. Mine! Always has been?for years and years." She glared at Maria. "And he does what he promises for me, too. So you aren't long for this world, you bitch!"

Lodovico finally entered the room, moving shakily. "I cannot believe what I'm hearing," he whispered.

But Madelena did. The tiny little woman stalked forward, pushing past her master.

"You?puttana! You have betrayed the memory of your husband Alfredo!"

Alessandra was in full virago fury by now, knowing that she'd already said too much and betrayed herself. But she seemed still determined to cow them, to shock them into submission.

"Oh it wasn't just his memory I betrayed. Alfredo thought he was such a lover, but I needed a real man." She gestured crudely.

Lodovico straightened imposingly. He was a big man, with big shoulders, despite his age. "You will get out of my house," he said between gritted teeth.

Alessandra sniffed disdainfully. "Ha! As if the Montescue are going to throw me out. As if you are going to tell the world Caesare Aldanto cuckolded your precious grandson."

"If that is what I have to do to get this viper out my house's bosom, then I will," said Lodovico Montescue with a leaden voice. "You will go and you will go now."

"Can I throw her out for you?" offered Maria, advancing on her purposefully.

"You keep away from me, bitch!" shrilled Alessandra. "This is all your fault." And she swung wildly at Maria with an open hand.

Maria did not swing wildly, and she swung with a fist.

Kat's sister-in-law was slammed against the wall next to the window. Stunned, she put her hand to her cheek. A heavy bruise was already distinct against her fair skin. "You hit me… You hit me! You are going to die for this. Caesare will kill you."

Then she turned on Lodovico, still standing by the doorway. Except for the cheek where Maria's blow had landed, her face seemed as pale as a sheet. But not from fear, Kat realized. Her sister-in-law was consumed with an almost insane rage.

"Just as he killed your precious grandson!" Alessandra shrieked. "And you thought it was Valdosta or the plague. Ha!"

Everyone stood as if they had been frozen.

Lodovico's next words came in a growl. "I must know. Did he also kill your child? My pride and joy. Little Lodo? Did he?"

Alessandra started. "No! Even if he cried all the time." There was guilt in that voice.

"So what did you give him to keep him quiet?" asked Maria caustically. "Grappa? Henbane?"

Alessandra stared at her. Then looked away, almost furtively. "I never dosed him. Never!"

"She used to give him some stuff in a blue bottle," said Madelena suspiciously, "when she went out with him to her relatives."

Kat gaped at Alessandra. "Laudanum? You gave your baby opium in alcohol?"

"The bottle is still in her cupboard," said Madelena. "She told me it was for the wind…" Madelena stared at Alessandra. "Is it bad for babies?" she whispered.

Kat nodded. "Marco says it is dangerous even for adults."

There was a long silence.

Then Lodovico said: "I have changed my mind. I was going to throw you out. To go and be the harlot you were born to be. Now you will stay. And answer to the Signori di Notte."

Alessandra smiled pure malice at him. "I don't think so, old man. I'll go to my dear Caesare. He's a rising man, not like the has-been Casa Montescue is. And he owes me for all the information about your business I've given him over the years."

Kat screamed. "No, Madelena! NO!"

Darkness was falling like a soft shawl across a busy Venice. Out on the lagoon the bargees were busy pulling out the last of the stakes that marked the safe channels. Only an invader who knew his way could come across the lagoon.

The Arsenal would not sleep tonight. Queues of citizens waited for the issuing of weapons.

In campos across the city, citizens of the new militia were drilling under Schiopettieri instructors.

Venice was preparing to fight for her life, and also to strike back.

Harrow was wrestling with a decision. The boys had both signed up. Benito would be going off to the Polestine forts. Marco was headed for Fruili. An ugly face and a bit of hard leaning had let him see both lists. He was sure of it. His inclination said, go with Marco, but he was sworn to guard both boys. He couldn't be in both places at once. And the Polestine galleys would be leaving first. At last he decided to go and see Luciano Marina. The man made him uncomfortable, always appearing to have the light behind him. But suddenly it felt very urgent. Very, very urgent.

He walked into a noisy Barducci's. He'd forgotten what taverns were like. This was, if anything, noisier than usual, with people who might be going to die having that last drink at their favorite watering-hole. It fell quiet around him, as he walked across to Claudia. "Need to talk to you. Need to see someone." It was playing hell with his cover… but right now he felt cover was less important than decisive action. He felt the build-up of great and terrible things.

Claudia recognized him. "What the hell do you mean by coming in here, you fool," she hissed.

"Need Luciano," he croaked. "Can't find him."

Claudia looked at him. Her eyes narrowed. She put the mandola down, and got up. "Come."

She led him out of Barducci's and at a jog-trot down towards the Calle Farnese, into Cannaregio. Up to a largish salon next to the Rio San Marcoula boatyard. Luciano was at drill practice too, with the Strega's tiny but grim-faced arm-militant. To Harrow's surprise, he realized that the eleven people?a mixture of men and women?were very good. Of course they'd be at a disadvantage with brassbound wooden staves, against swords or axes.