The Warring States (The Wave Trilogy) (31 page)

BOOK: The Warring States (The Wave Trilogy)
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She turned back to Sofia and screamed, ‘I told you to
go
!’ She clumsily lifted the Madonna from the alcove and threw it with a roar of hate. Sofia didn’t have to duck; it smashed harmlessly against the cobblestones. ‘The Scaligeri are a plague on Rasenna. How many Waves must come before we realise!’

Sofia backed away from the hysterical girl, but her screams echoed in the piazza.

‘You’ll only be happy when we all drown. Wake up, Rasenna, save yourself!
Wake up!

CHAPTER 39

The Gospel According to
St Barabbas

33

The Jinni searched the depths and the secret places of the earth until he found that prize the priest had wished for. Zacharias stood on the mount that all the city might hear, and cried aloud, O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you that killest the prophets. See ye not all these things? Verily I say unto you, there shall not be left here one stone upon another that shall not be thrown down. Jerusalem, the winds will take you. Even as the walls of Jericho fell, and the pillars of Iram fell, this Temple will fall. The tyrant who built it, he too will crumble.

34

And Zacharias blew upon the ram’s horn.

35

And King Herod ordered the troublesome priest thrown down from the mount. So perished Zacharias of the House of David.

36

In Galilee his daughter heard of it and was filled with wrath.

37

But the Lord had heard the horn. He visited Herod and Herod was visited with affliction.

38

The tyrant fled Jerusalem and her troublesome people. He retired to his palace overlooking the Sea of Zoar, and the servants said that his body stank worse than the sea. His privy parts burst forth with maggots and festering wounds.

39

And though he suffered, the tyrant thought himself safe in his stronghold. But the Lord is not denied.

40

Mary and Her band climbed the mountain. They stormed the palace and found him hiding there. For his life he offered gold that Mary took and threw from the mountain.

41

And She said, Now, false king, thou shalt follow thine idol.

CHAPTER 40

The gonfaloniere’s wife was well liked, and Rasenna was unusually subdued in the days that followed. Fabbro didn’t notice. He’d tried losing himself in the minutiae of his accounts and when that failed, drink worked.

It was noon, and Maddalena found him three-quarters through the bottle. She sat at his feet saying nothing. His fingers gently touched her hair.

‘We used to fight, Maddalena, your mother and I – oh, the most tremendous quarrels! And not just shouting, either – I, well, I never was a bandieratoro, and your mother was a Cassini – I could tell you stories about her father, he was a
real
bandieratoro. But we’d wrestle and slap and scratch until we were quite exhausted, and then reconciliation would be sweet. Our love matured, but I always took comfort that she was as strong as I. Oh child, what will we do without her?’

‘I’m here, Papa.’

When the Ariminumese letter came, it was a relief for everyone. Donna Bombelli’s death left Sofia friendless, and with a horrible dread that Maddalena had been right: the longer she tarried, the more would suffer. Hadn’t Isabella warned her?

‘There’s opportunity in every crisis.’ Levi held up the letter. ‘The invasion of Dalmatia has woken Ariminum from its lethargy. As General Spinther marches, its colonies fall like towers, one by one. Without this hinterland, the Adriatic is no longer a solely Ariminumese sea. Ships clog Ariminum’s
harbour, ships full of merchants who’ve abandoned fortunes to save their lives and families, exiles who infect that proud city with fear – fear that has belatedly made Ariminum realise it’s part of Etruria too; fear that shows Ariminum Concord for the threat it is. This summit they propose is the first real progress in months. Where Ariminum leads, the South will follow. That’s why we must go and make the case for the league.’

Though the gonfaloniere looked to be sleeping, he was listening, and he suddenly had an illicit thought he knew must never be voiced: that Rasenna had more in common with Concord than with any of the cities of the South, which was still ruled by lords, families, tyrants; Concord and Rasenna, ruled by men of skill, should be natural allies.

‘They address their letter to
The Contessa
,’ the brewer remarked.

‘So?’ Levi said quickly. ‘How should they know Signorina Scaligeri gave up her title? And for that matter, why should they care?’

‘If we send her, Ariminum and the other cities will continue with that impression.’ Grumbled agreement circled the room. The bandieratori’s role in the occupation of the bridge still rankled with the priors.

Fabbro seemed to wake suddenly from his stupor. ‘This summit is to resolve one question: peace or war. We must do
something
with our surfeit of soldiers.’ He looked directly at Sofia. ‘Blood follows the Scaligeri wherever they go. Let this one go and preach war so that Rasenna may have peace. Go, Contessa. If you can persuade Him, go with God. If you cannot, go anyway.’

CHAPTER 41

The Gospel According to
St Barabbas

3

In the distant land of Etrusca, the old Emperor Catiline was vexed by reports of the rebellion that erupted upon Herod’s assassination. For though a tyrant, Herod had kept the Jews biddable by constant building and murder.

2

Catiline’s soothsayers read in entrails the same prophecy that Herod’s astrologers had read in the stars; that a new kingdom would soon arise to overshadow all others.

3

Catiline was greatly disturbed, for while Judea burned, Herod’s sons fought for their late father’s throne and he sent word that henceforth the Jews would have no King and Judea would be a province ruled by an Etruscan prelate.

4

The new prelate was a man named Pilate and he was charged with quashing rebellion. This Pilate sought to do by cutting off its head.

5

He sent his legion swarming over the mountains and lonely places of Galilee. Mary and Her band fled into the southern desert and only in the shadow of Sinai did they stop to rest.

6

The angel of the Lord appeared to Mary in a dream, saying, Arise, Woman, arise and flee into Egypt. Would that Thy husband had done so sooner.

7

But Mary said, My husband was murdered protecting My son. Where were you then with your warnings? Tell your master that henceforth I choose my own path.

8

So Mary led her band into the Empty Quarter. Though the Sicarii were bold men they were sore afraid, for long had the children of Israel and Ishmael been enemies; yea, even in the womb had they quarrelled.

CHAPTER 42

Lord Geta’s knowledge of the Depths was such that he could avoid the conflagrations on his way to the Dolore Ostello. He watched a gang of youths carrying rocks chase a richly dressed woman into a dark alley. Although he knew the alley was a dead-end, he walked on. He had no time to tarry – today was Carnival, and Geta must gamble.

He superstitiously averted his frosty cat’s eyes from the dark, disquietingly empty sky. All his life the Molè had been omnipresent; in front of him, in the corner of his eye and if he were bold enough to turn his back, its shadow covered him. Now the Molè was gone, and the sky was indecently naked. Although learning to fight in the tumultuous Rasenna of old was the fondest memory of his youth, Concord the day before Lent was a close second. It amused Geta to think of how innocent he had been – harassing strangers for money, pelting rival gangs with rocks, the hurried frantic couplings, the freedom that came with wearing a mask. Though Geta always made a sentimental point to return to the capital for Carnival, he had expected to miss it this year.

Yet here he was.

The spirit abroad in the streets today was undeniably different. Those shouting children were not noble bravos but fanciulli, Fra Norcino’s brood of barefoot angels. The preacher assured them that they were doing God’s work, so they stooped to any brutality.

‘Death to the catamites!’

The fanciulli used to be known by the great noise they made. Now they were known by the broken mirrors left in their wake. They wore white robes because they were young and stainless, and laurels because virtue was triumphant. They shaved each other’s heads to contrast their naked purity with the effeminate locks favoured by noble youths and paraded through the streets, olive branches and banners and statues held high. Others dragged the accoutrements of Natural Philosophy and the symbols of noble narcissism: astrolabes and compasses, paints and wigs and jewellery: a funeral procession for vanity in its protean forms.

‘Woe unto Babylon!’

Great bonfires burned on every square, and in their dancing light all things seemed possible: that Carnival’s once-a-year inversion could be rendered permanent, that Fra Norcino could be king. Knowing the Collegio would let the mob do their worst, most nobles kept off the streets, and those who were abroad tried to be inconspicuous – all but Geta. A swordsman could never be inconspicuous. His breast was decorated with war medals and wounds and his face with scars – enough to frighten women, in the right way. From his shining spurs to his bounteous moustache waxed into prongs, he belonged to an age of selfish chivalry. He was in disgrace, and though that was a condition he was accustomed to, the memory of his show trial still rankled.

‘Lord Geta, have you anything to say before we pass sentence?’

‘I need a drink.’

‘In your defence!’

‘Let’s not make this farce more hypocritical than it already is, Corvis. I rolled the dice. Had I won, you’d be giving me a legion of my own.’

‘What about you, General?’

Leto Spinther stiffened. ‘I am the one bringing charges against this scoundrel. I don’t have to answer your questions.’

‘Let’s just go over it one more time.’

Consul Corvis was as smooth as he was patronising, and the young general looked up to the lonely figure in red sitting behind the assembled Collegio. ‘Torbidda, is this necessary?’

When the boy did not reply, Corvis continued, ‘Indulge us, General. When we awarded you command of the Tenth along with the Ninth, we expected more gratitude.’

‘Expected to dictate strategy, you mean. Do you really want your generals so supine?’

‘You’re in no position to take this attitude.’

Leto’s temper flashed. ‘Torbidda, are you going to let this jumped-up— ’

‘You will address me as First Apprentice, and you will answer Consul Corvis with more respect.’

‘Thank you, First Apprentice. Why, General,’ said Corvis patiently, ‘did you not seek our permission to strike out into the Dalmatian March?’

Leto waited for his friend to speak up on his behalf and when Torbidda remained silent, he set his jaw and answered, ‘If I had failed, I would be standing in Lord Geta’s place so you could strip me of my rank and replace me with someone more docile. But I did not fail. We overran Ariminum’s colonies and plundered their wealth. I don’t recall hearing complaints then.’

Corvis flushed. ‘Of course, such unexpected bounty—’

‘Nor did I drop everything when you recalled me to the capital for a Triumph. I acted responsibly: before my departure I withdrew the Ninth and established a defensible perimeter in the Tyrolean Lowlands.’

‘And why was that necessary?’ Corvis asked innocently.

‘You know full well—‘ he started, then said more calmly, ‘My Dalmatian campaign was about capturing the Ariminumese colonies. I took care not to encroach too far beyond it.’

‘Into Byzantine territory. So you were aware of the risks, and still you gave command to this reckless cavalier.’

‘War is risk, Consul; you’d know that if you wielded a sword instead
of a pen. I will not deny that I lent Lord Geta my baton. Till then the fellow had served me well. I charged him to hold the perimeter and rebuff any attempt by the Ariminumese Navy to recapture their colonies.’

‘But he had other ideas, did you not, Lord Geta?’

‘The Triumph you awarded Spinther was rightly mine—’

‘Silence, dog!’ Leto shouted, then turned back to Corvis. ‘I pieced the story together later. After my departure, Geta stoked his jealousy until he had convinced himself and the other captains that they could do the impossible. They rode for glory, plunged once more into the March and on to the frontier. Lust for honour and spoils outpaced what little good sense they had left, they advanced further than the ships could supply them and as soon as they entered Byzantine territory they were met by an army—’

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