The Master of Verona

Spurring away from his brother, he'd then concealed himself in the trees and watched his brother pass him in turn. Luigi had been convinced that Antony had an idea of where the children were — he'd been too quiet, too remote, not his usual gregarious self. It was just like Antony to bait Luigi into leaving so that he could have the honour of saving Cangrande's son all to himself. So Luigi had followed his hated brother.

But the fool hadn't found the child. He'd found the girl instead. To Luigi's intense pleasure, he saw his brother's rejection at her hands. After everyone had left, Luigi had retrieved the silver dagger with Mari's name etched into it. At the time he hadn't known why he did it. Now it was clear. He would ruin his brother once and for all.

Bending down, he began to work the dagger into place.

Filthy, weary, Cangrande stood flexing his arms, his eyes on the pool of water that was filling the pit his men were frantically digging. There were hissing torches and covered lanterns all about, and more men arriving every minute, bringing with them pickaxes, spades, and dogs. Beside him was his sister. Their combined attention was so intent on the earth being shifted, the buckets of water being removed from the crater, the incredible slowness of it all, that they didn't notice a young man slip up beside them. "Madonna Nogarola? I think this young fellow belongs to you."

"Mama!" The toddler threw himself towards her, careless of his injured arm. Exhausted with fear, he collapsed against his mother's chest.

Heads came up from the pit. In a ringing voice Mari quickly explained. All the joyful mother could manage was, "Thank you, Mariotto. Thank you!"

This fresh success gave them all heart to continue at breakneck pace. Cangrande embraced Mariotto, just as covered in muck as himself. "Good God, Mari, you look like you just climbed out of your own grave. Good work. Perhaps in our haste we have overlooked some other clues out in the brush. Could you take a few of the more tired men and search the woods hereabouts? We can keep at the digging." The Capitano gestured to the fresh reserves just arriving.

Detto's father was among the latest arrivals. Seeing his son, Bailardino bellowed for joy. Katerina passed Detto, already asleep, to the weak-kneed father, who refused to let his firstborn out of his grasp for the rest of the night.

As ordered, Mariotto took some tired workers and led them down the slopes with torches and dogs. Cangrande followed him but turned away at the base, angling instead for the mouth of the tunnel. Beside the opening of the cave there was a growing mound of excavated earth. The Scaliger announced the discovery of one child, giving them even more incentive to find the other.

He was just turning away when he heard a shout. "My lord!"

Cangrande whirled about. "Have you found something?"

"No, my lord! There's a carriage on the path!"

"Damn you and damn the carriage! Keep digging!" But Cangrande was not so far gone that he missed whose carriage it was. Bare-chested, covered in mud, he crossed to where the carriage was reining in.

The door opened and his wife emerged into the rain. One of the two burly foreign grooms Giovanna of Antioch employed aided her descent to the sodden ground. The other groom attempted to hold a cloth over her head to keep the wet off. Ignoring him, she walked through the squelching earth and faced her husband.

Covered in filth, Cangrande stepped in to buss his wife on the cheek. She leaned away from him, saying, "Have you found the boy?"

"Not yet. Lady, you shouldn't have come."

"I could say the same about you." There were times when one could see the faint traces of Frederick II's iron will in Giovanna's face.

"I had little choice." Cangrande's consternation turned to surprise when he saw his client poet emerge from the carriage's high wooden door. "Maestro Alaghieri — you've heard?"

Coming close, Dante said, "I heard that my son was hereabouts, my lord, and something about a battle and lost children. Can you enlighten me further?"

"Please, Francesco," said Giovanna in her golden tone, "enlighten us all. We understand you're at war with Padua once more."

"That's for tomorrow," said Cangrande. "Of the lost children, one has been found. Bailardino's son. The other is lost, we think, in that mound — with Ser Alaghieri," he added darkly. Quickly he explained.

Dante's other son was atop a nearby horse. The moment Cangrande finished the story, Poco leapt from the saddle and started to run to the mound of earth. "Somebody get me a shovel!"

The poet's face was more rigidly controlled. "Is — is there any chance they're alive?"

Cangrande's answer was interrupted by a shout. "We've got something!"

Dante actually outpaced the Scaliger on the run to the tunnel. Shoving past the men crowding into the tunnel, they both struggled deep into the muck. "What? What is it?"

Face glowing in the torchlight, the lead digger waved the Capitano forward. "We heard something. A voice. It seemed to be singing."