The Master of Verona

The battle had swept on into other streets, leaving the wounded and dying in its wake. His neighbour's son died in Pietro's arms without a last word for his father. Pietro wept as he stood and tore the boiling armour from his torso, relieving his legs of the awful weight. He looked at the petta, and the crest of San Bonifacio on it — the image of the two opposing stars was now bruised and covered in blood. He let the breastplate fall from his fingertips and wandered among the dead and the wounded, looking for friends.

Amazingly, five of his men had survived relatively unscathed, with more possibly still alive in the yard where this bloody business started. He found Tharwat under three Paduan corpses. The Moor was breathing, though shallowly. Pietro ripped some cloth from a dead man and bound the head gash as best he could. Tharwat's left arm hung at a strange angle, but Pietro knew nothing about mending broken limbs. Deciding to wait for Morsicato's advice, he propped the Moor's head against a wall and moved to look for other wounded men.

Just then he heard more horses approaching. These were not the hoofbeats of warhorses. Coming out of the smoke, a young man on a light riding horse almost trampled Pietro before he checked. His two attendants did the same.

"Pietro!"

It was a familiar voice that cried his name. Pietro looked up to see a thin fellow in riding clothes who looked oddly familiar. Then he saw the delicate features and the sky-blue eyes and realized, impossibly, who it was. "Donna Katerina?"

"Pietro, thank God!" The lady's voice was full of panic as she leapt down from the saddle.

Rising, Pietro held her by the arms, steadying himself against her. "I'm fine, lady."

"He's gone, Pietro! They've taken him! The chart was right! He's going to die! They both are!"

Hot and exhausted, Pietro couldn't follow what she was saying. Had someone taken Cangrande somewhere? "What? Lady, calm yourself. What's happened?"

"The guest, the man who was staying in the palace — the exiled banker who bought his return! He called himself Pathino."

Pietro shook his head. "What about him?"

"He came yesterday — said he's trying to rebuild his old business — but he's taken them both, both of them!"

Pietro felt his flesh begin to crawl. "Who, Donna? Who did he take?"

Tears were flowing freely now. "Cesco! He's gone! And he took my son with him! Cesco and Detto are gone!"

V

The Feud

Thirty-Five

Cangrande halted his pursuit of the Paduans at Montegalda, refusing to let his men cross the Paduan frontier, lest he be accused of violating the peace himself. Now that he had the just war he'd been hungering for, he had no wish to spoil things.

The armourless Scaliger rode along the line of his soldiers as they cheered him, crying "Sca-la! Sca-la! Sca-la!" Uguccione was grinning through a face smeared with blood. Nico sported an arm that hung limply at his side, yet he hopped up and down in the saddle as he mocked the fleeing knights. Morsicato looked tired as he wrung blood from his beard. Luigi Capulletto looked annoyed that the battle was over, and his brother Antony shared his expression.

But Antony wasn't looking at the backs of the fleeing Paduans. The Scaliger traced Antony's scowl to a figure in a blue cloak. His armour bore the Montecchio crest, the clasp on the cloak carrying the same device. But he was too short to be Gargano. That left only one answer. "Ser Montecchio, welcome back! I trust you've been home to see your father."

"Oui, mon Capitan," replied Mariotto, much to the Scaliger's amusement.

"You provided me good service. I trust all your affairs are settled?"

Cangrande saw Mari's eyes flicker towards Capulletto. "I expect they soon will be."

A frown formed on Cangrande's brow. "Where's your father?"

"He's on our lands, coordinating the net for fleeing Paduans."

"Go join him." Cangrande raised his voice. "I want all Paduan prisoners back in Verona the day after tomorrow. Every one, even the lowliest, is to be treated royally. The nobles may be ransomed to their families, but this time Padua itself will have to pay to get its soldiers back. I'll ransom them as a group."

Nico da Lozzo studied the sky, all innocence. "I don't suppose it's occurred to you…"

"It has. The answer is no. They live." The Scaliger was about to instruct Capulletto to stay with Uguccione, thus keeping the two idiots away from each other, when something pricked at his ears. Light horses and voices calling.

Turning, he saw his sister — her cross-dressing never fooled him. She was probably angry with him for sneaking into town. She'd always loathed his playacting. "Thank you, my dear, for ringing the bell. I felt certain it was-"

His expression changed as she came close enough to reveal her face. Katerina told her tale in a very few words, concluding, "Ser Alaghieri has already started the hunt."