The Master of Verona

Bonaccolsi thumped the table with his fist and pointed. "Perhaps by the time you can shave you will have already worried yourself grey, hound!"

As the Mantuan roared at his own joke, Cangrande sighed then continued. "Monsignor Carrara, have you noticed that no matter how often they are derided, some ideas can never be extinguished? The ancients believed in the power of the stars. So do we. Ours are even named for the old Roman gods, and they have much the same power. They live in the sky, choosing life or death for the mortals who are merely pawns to their amusement. Some refer to our God the same way."

Pietro said, "You are no one's pawn, lord. You just proved it." There were murmurs of assent from the Veronese.

"Did I?" The Scaliger waved a hand at the ceiling upon which rain pelted down. "Look outside and tell me what I achieved."

"You can't blame yourself for the rain," said Asdente. "Luck, nothing more. Good for us, bad for you."

Cangrande shook his head. "Luck? Or Fate? Ask the stars, Vanni! Perhaps it is God's desire for Padua to remain independant. Perhaps I will never…" His voice trailed off, silence lingering in the wake of his words.

"What is this?" asked Dandolo abruptly from the far end of the table. "The great Greyhound doubting himself?"

When Cangrande did not reply, Mussato cleared his throat and said, "The Church tells us the science of astrology is God's plan made manifest."

Il Grande shook his head. "What if the stars are not the celestial book of Fate? What if the ancients were correct? What if the stars are active participants in our lives?"

"They are." All eyes turned to Dante. "It is not paganism. The stars do exert influence over us. They make plants grow and wither. They create imbalances in the mind. Venus arouses the loins, Mars the sword."

Cangrande stirred. "I am told Mars was in the House of Aries when I was born. Does that mean I was destined to be a soldier? What if I had denied that fate? What if I had said no?"

Asdente said ungrudgingly, "You are the best soldier in Italy."

"Thank you for that, Vanni. But I had a good teacher." The Capitano slapped his hands together. "Even that! Was Bailardino put in my path by the heavens to create my destiny? What if I had said no? Could I have said no?"

Asdente looked puzzled. "Why would you have wanted to?"

The Scaliger was earnest. "Because then we would know that we have a choice in our own lives. Free will."

All the men at the table sat quietly for some time, chewing upon their meals and their thoughts. At last Francesco Dandolo spoke, his voice a dreamy whisper. "Have you ever been to sea? Being Venetian, I find the best example of the power of the stars is at sea. Upon the water, the stars are both the guide and the enemy. They give the sailor a map to his destination while at the same time they stir the seas he sails on. They show the path, at the same time creating obstacles to that path."

Cangrande's eyes narrowed as he listened. "They show the prize, then strip it away."

Hoping to avert the Scaliger's curiously ill thoughts, Pietro turned to Dandolo. "The stars don't always make the seas rough, do they? Couldn't they create a smooth course just as easily? Why must they be the enemy?"

The Capitano's head swiveled. "Quite right. Why must they?"

Il Grande chose to follow an earlier thought. "Still, the choice is theirs. The stars choose which men to aid, which to oppose. What does it say about the men they befriend? Are those men more capable, or less?" His eyes met Cangrande's. "Which did they do for you, lord Capitano?"

"I don't know," replied Cangrande. "Some men would say they favor me."

"But what do you say?"

Cangrande pursed his lips. "Can a man ever know the Lord's will?"

"It would arrogance to try," observed Mussato. "His will is a mystery. Man's fate is up to God alone."

"But that denies free will," countered Dante, "a concept that the Church does allow for. A man takes active participation in deciding his own fate. Or else what's the point of living?"

Mussato leaned as far forward as his injuries allowed. "Ah, but what if he chooses a different interpretation of that fate than God intended? A man meant to be a soldier becomes a farmer. Will the stars oppose him? Will God?"

The Scaliger pointed. "What do you say, Pietro?"

Pietro hadn't realized his expression had altered so much as to draw attention, and he was too embarrassed to share his thought. "I–I don't know. I do know that my father has a very strict view on astrology."

The Scaliger threw Dante a sly glance. "I know. Soothsayers get tossed into the infernal ring reserved for fraud."

"There is a specific distinction," corrected Dante. "A soothsayer is not an astrologer, but a reader of entrails. That is superstistion. Astrology is a science, one I adhere to. But, like priests, there are good and bad astrologers. The only astrologers I condemn are the ones who try to alter the will of Heaven, or else try to curry favor by creating prophecies out of whole cloth."