how to confront one that had bedded his uncle. I motioned him to come in. “You can crack a smile if you like,” I said, “for I spent a night as chaste as you did.” (Well, nearly; unless you count my fingersmith’s hands beneath the covers.)
He breathed relief. “I am truly glad that your heart, or my uncle’s heart, found room for repentance.”
I toyed with the idea of letting him think that I had made a sacrifice on his behalf (I could always use the favor for bargaining later), but then decided that if his uncle were ill in truth, my lie would be discovered. “Aye, his heart,” I said wryly, “or mayhap his stomach. He was ill in the night, according to that monster that serves him.”
Brother Guido was all concern.
“Did you not know?” I asked, softer now.
“No,” he said. “I have been all day at the Duomo, hearing a cycle of masses for the saint.”
“Well, even you must have prayed enough to break your fast now.” I motioned to the copper bowl of water and the oysters I had kept. He actually smiled as he sat down on the coverlet, ready to enjoy his deferred feast. “ ‘Tis most kind of you, for in truth, I am famished.” He raised the largest to his lips just as a knock sounded.
Tok entered at my call, and regarded us both for an interested instant, before delivering his tidings. “Lord Guido. I haf been up and down this day to find you. You must come to your uncle. His illness is worse and he iss sinking fast.”
Brother Guido dropped the oyster like a hot coal, and we both hurried after Tok.
The mercenary strode ahead down a paneled passage and through a quiet courtyard with a fountain at the center, mutely arching in the gathering dusk. At the far side he opened the oaken door to his master’s rooms. The bedchamber was dark, as the drapes were drawn, and there was an evil shit-smelling stench, overlaid with woodruff and incense from a burner, to keep the evil spirits at bay. On the bed, twisted in silken sheets, and pale and hollow as a shell, lay Lord Silvio, already much changed from the man I recalled from last night. His flesh had a greenish pallor, his breath came in labored rasps. On his forearm, three stone-colored leeches lay in a row, glistening fatly and undulating as they gorged on infected blood. I knew, from one glance, that I was destined to see yet another dead man. Out of respect that I rarely show, I hovered at the door, but close enough to hear the last conference of the kinsmen.
I expected Lord Silvio to express his great love for his nephew, to express sorrow for their argument of the evening before, or even to make one last impassioned appeal for Brother Guido to leave the church and accept his inheritance. But the words I heard bore no relation to any of these. Lord Silvio scrabbled for Brother Guido’s cowl with a pale hand and said, quite clearly, “Muda.”
Brother Guido visibly started. “Are you sure?”
Lord Silvio nodded. “Muda. Muda.” Then: “Follow . . . the light.” Then all clarity left him; he tried to repeat himself but failed as the spittle ran down his ghostly cheek. Brother Guido gentled him, pressing his hand to his uncle’s slowing heart, and I saw a glint of gold as the dying man slid the ring from his thumb to his nephew’s. At that instant the door opened, and an elderly priest entered with the last things needful for the final rites. Lord Silvio, seeing that a stranger had entered, attempted speech no more but lay back, as if spent. Brother Guido silently took the oils and wads from the priest and anointed his uncle himself, wiping the libations away as he prayed for his kinsman’s soul. Lord Silvio’s face was drawn in a hideous rictus grin, but as his clawed hand drew the sign of the cross on his dying chest, peace relaxed his countenance. He was dead.
I withdrew from the room with the priest, to allow the della Torres a last farewell, and as the confessor blessed me and left I thought about what I had seen. To begin with, I could not fully comprehend our new predicament. I didn’t think, at that moment, of how we were right back in the shit, having lost our one protector. Nor of how we would petition Lorenzo de’ Medici