fool than your friend. You think your Company can win a pitched battleagainst a Concordian legion? Believe me, you can’t. I trained Concord’s generals.”
Like Scarpelli, Levi had known this mission was a long shot. Now he wondered if the forthcoming campaign was too. “Thank you for your hospitality, Doctor. You’ve made your position clear. I understand you cannot risk Contessa Scaligeri’s inheritance.”
“This isn’t Rasenna’s war.”
“It isn’t the Hawk’s Company’s war either. It’s Etruria’s. For everyone’s sake, Concord has to be stopped.”
The Doctor extended a hand. “They’ve already won.”
CHAPTER 10
The condottieri left without delay. The Hawk’s Company mustered shortly in the south, and John Acuto had to know which towns had rallied, which had not.
As they left, Guercho Vaccarelli arrived in answer to the Doctor’s summons. He wheezed and creaked as he walked, reminding Sofia of the ravaged towers by the river. The old man’s eyes were weak; his young daughter, Isabella, a pretty girl with cheeks spattered with freckles, usually accompanied him, but today he leaned on someone else.
“Signorina Scaligeri, you look like your mother more every day!” The inlaid disks in Bombelli’s sleeves jingled musically as he kissed her hand. Torn clothes were common in Rasenna, but the slits in Fabbro’s fur-lined jerkin were high fashion, not accident, designed to display the expensive silk chemise underneath. When visiting old friends such as Vettori, Fabbro dressed down. When visiting the Doctor, he dressed up.
“Thanks,” Sofia said flatly. “Look, come back tomorrow. The Doc’s preparing for the meeting.”
“That’s why I came! Doctor!”
The Doctor eyed Fabbro coolly, nodded briefly, then turned to embrace the old man. “Signore Vaccarelli, how is your Family?”
After exchanging pleasantries, he blandly regarded his uninvited guest. “Bombelli. What do you want?”
“To help, Doctor. Let me accompany you to the Signoria.”
“Certainly—come along. We’re about to set out.”
“I mean sit with you, Doctor.”
“Sofia, show Signore Vaccarelli around the workshop,” the Doctor said, putting his arm around the merchant. Then, “Fabbro, haven’t we discussed this before? What could be so urgent that you must tell the Signoria?”
“Business.”
“Your business is none of their business,” he said with a kindly smile. “Nobody stops you from making money.”
“I have employees in all the towers you watch over, but”—for a moment he hesitated—“that’s only half the town! It’s like trying to eat with one hand tied behind my back. There’s money across the river too.”
The Doctor took his arm away and started rubbing his chin. “Ah,” he said. “Fabbro, I respect you. You look after your tower and do well—”
“I can do better with a whole town, working with Vettori Vanzetti again—”
“Vanzetti doesn’t have weavers anymore.”
“He could get them.”
“How would they cross the river? What with the buio and the raiding?” The Doctor waved his hands in the air to convey the immensity of the complications he foresaw.
“I can solve problems like that—and the more I make, the more you can tax me!” Fabbro had rehearsed this conversation, considering every objection.
“Only the Signoria has the authority to tax. You make donations to my workshop.”
“Yes. Donations . Fine.”
“And what if Morello is jealous?”
“I’ll give him one,” Fabbro said impatiently.
“Problematic,” the Doctor said.
But Fabbro was too excited to stop. “We can find a way around, surely.”
“If this is all you have to say, then let me speak to the Signoria on your behalf.”
“I can speak for myself.”
“But will they listen? You know I don’t look down on new men, but Quintus Morello, some of the older Families, they see the money you make and—”
“Does my money smell? Does it hurt people? What’s so noble about
Like Scarpelli, Levi had known this mission was a long shot. Now he wondered if the forthcoming campaign was too. “Thank you for your hospitality, Doctor. You’ve made your position clear. I understand you cannot risk Contessa Scaligeri’s inheritance.”
“This isn’t Rasenna’s war.”
“It isn’t the Hawk’s Company’s war either. It’s Etruria’s. For everyone’s sake, Concord has to be stopped.”
The Doctor extended a hand. “They’ve already won.”
CHAPTER 10
The condottieri left without delay. The Hawk’s Company mustered shortly in the south, and John Acuto had to know which towns had rallied, which had not.
As they left, Guercho Vaccarelli arrived in answer to the Doctor’s summons. He wheezed and creaked as he walked, reminding Sofia of the ravaged towers by the river. The old man’s eyes were weak; his young daughter, Isabella, a pretty girl with cheeks spattered with freckles, usually accompanied him, but today he leaned on someone else.
“Signorina Scaligeri, you look like your mother more every day!” The inlaid disks in Bombelli’s sleeves jingled musically as he kissed her hand. Torn clothes were common in Rasenna, but the slits in Fabbro’s fur-lined jerkin were high fashion, not accident, designed to display the expensive silk chemise underneath. When visiting old friends such as Vettori, Fabbro dressed down. When visiting the Doctor, he dressed up.
“Thanks,” Sofia said flatly. “Look, come back tomorrow. The Doc’s preparing for the meeting.”
“That’s why I came! Doctor!”
The Doctor eyed Fabbro coolly, nodded briefly, then turned to embrace the old man. “Signore Vaccarelli, how is your Family?”
After exchanging pleasantries, he blandly regarded his uninvited guest. “Bombelli. What do you want?”
“To help, Doctor. Let me accompany you to the Signoria.”
“Certainly—come along. We’re about to set out.”
“I mean sit with you, Doctor.”
“Sofia, show Signore Vaccarelli around the workshop,” the Doctor said, putting his arm around the merchant. Then, “Fabbro, haven’t we discussed this before? What could be so urgent that you must tell the Signoria?”
“Business.”
“Your business is none of their business,” he said with a kindly smile. “Nobody stops you from making money.”
“I have employees in all the towers you watch over, but”—for a moment he hesitated—“that’s only half the town! It’s like trying to eat with one hand tied behind my back. There’s money across the river too.”
The Doctor took his arm away and started rubbing his chin. “Ah,” he said. “Fabbro, I respect you. You look after your tower and do well—”
“I can do better with a whole town, working with Vettori Vanzetti again—”
“Vanzetti doesn’t have weavers anymore.”
“He could get them.”
“How would they cross the river? What with the buio and the raiding?” The Doctor waved his hands in the air to convey the immensity of the complications he foresaw.
“I can solve problems like that—and the more I make, the more you can tax me!” Fabbro had rehearsed this conversation, considering every objection.
“Only the Signoria has the authority to tax. You make donations to my workshop.”
“Yes. Donations . Fine.”
“And what if Morello is jealous?”
“I’ll give him one,” Fabbro said impatiently.
“Problematic,” the Doctor said.
But Fabbro was too excited to stop. “We can find a way around, surely.”
“If this is all you have to say, then let me speak to the Signoria on your behalf.”
“I can speak for myself.”
“But will they listen? You know I don’t look down on new men, but Quintus Morello, some of the older Families, they see the money you make and—”
“Does my money smell? Does it hurt people? What’s so noble about
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