so far it’s working. Everything has a price in Ariminum. It was an inspired solution – I confess that I would have never thought of it but, if cynical bastards like Geta are the types of colleagues I must become habituated to, I hope always to remain
Your friend,
LVIII
POST SCRIPTUM:
Thanks, incidentally, for your last letter. It can’t have been easy to finally tell me what happened in Conclave, but I feel better for knowing the circumstances of Agrippina’s death. At least you got to kill the bastard who did for her. She would have been happy for you, of that I’m certain.
CHAPTER 34
The boys continued their drill when Uggeri entered the workshop. They were curious to see Sofia’s wrath, but they knew better than to make it obvious. Uggeri had been returned his flag upon release – or perhaps he’d just taken it. Sofia walked over, her hand out. As he reached forward, Sofia feigned a left, he shifted right and she snapped his flag away from him. Uggeri reached after it, but Sofia blocked him with a stick under his chin. He stopped in time, looked up and saw she meant it.
He stood up straight. ‘I’m not sorry.’
‘I didn’t ask if you were. All I ask is obedience. I give an order, you do it. This isn’t Palazzo del Popolo. Here, I’m still Contessa.’
‘Got it.’
‘Fine then,’ she said and lowered her flag. ‘Don’t go south again without my express permission. I need you here in the workshop. Flags have got slack.’ She said it loud so everyone could hear. ‘Doc wouldn’t have stood for it and neither will I. You boys expecting someone else to do your fighting? The Hawk’s Company? The Sisterhood?
The answer came clear, punctuated by flags thumping floorboards. ‘No, Maestro!’
‘Every workshop in town’s lost its snap. That going to happen here? To Doc Bardini’s boys?’
‘No, Maestro!’
Sofia lowered her voice. ‘What about you? You want to fight?’
‘Yes, Maestro,’ Uggeri said earnestly.
‘Too bad. You’re my capomaestro. Train these boys until I can hear that snap again.’ She thrust his flag back at him.
‘What about you, Maestro – want to spar?’ Uggeri said with a shy smile, and Sofia knew this was the nearest she’d get to an apology. Uggeri was a physical creature, the way the Doc had been. Perhaps he didn’t have Doc’s brain, but who did?
‘I’m not feeling great. Maybe after this Signoria meeting.’
The Signoria’s elegant new assembly hall was planned by Giovanni and finished by Pedro. With its distinctive clock tower and bold rejection of Concordian forms, the Palazzo del Popolo was a vigorous essay in ‘Etruscan Revival’. The style was popular in Ariminum and the wealthy southern cities like Veii for political as much as aesthetic reasons; it was this neo-classical execution rather than the dome’s modest breadth that impressed foreign visitors most.
The keyhole-shaped plan was rational, but not lacking drama. The old palazzo was often flooded and permanently damp; it had caused the premature death of many elderly parliamentarians. In contrast, the new rotunda was raised to a proud height. At the top of the steps, large bronze doors opened into a lofty corridor lined not with family crests but with the flags of the major Guilds. It led to a cylindrical, light-filled chamber – the Speakers’ Hall, which was capped with a barrel fretted with circular windows that supported the shallow dome. In memory of the building it replaced, the dome’s apex was open to the sky.
Pedro was standing in the centre reading his report on Montaperti. It was dry stuff. Sofia leaned over to Levi. ‘So how did you break the news to Piers Becket that he was engaged?’
‘Down on one knee. I’m a traditionalist.’
‘How’d he take it?’
‘He warmed to it, eventually.’ Levi saw her sceptical look. ‘Becket just looks dumb. I explained that the Hawk’s Company isn’t going anywhere, and that he could do worse than aligning himself with Tower Sorrento. Selling cabbages is a lot more lucrative than being a condottiere these days, and safer. Once he got the idea, he made a handsome apology to the offended patriarch.’
‘Also on bended knee, no doubt. The farmer won’t mind a condottieri captain in the family. I bet Bombelli turns the wedding into a state occasion.’
‘If I could convince all my men to pair off, there wouldn’t be any more bad blood.’
‘What are you, a matchmaker? This is Rasenna. We’ll find a new reason.’
The textile Guilds – furriers, silk-makers and cloth-dealers – sat together and voted together, as instructed by the Wool