public buildings, wasteful vanity projects, needless improvements. Pedro was continually frustrated by losing his newly trained engineers to lucrative private commissions. Their short-sightedness amazed him. Since Giovanni’s death, Rasenna’s growth-rate had quadrupled: nine months after each new influx – the Hawk’s Company, the labourers drawn by work – a wave of babies followed. Children, like men, produce mountains of dung and torrents of piss. The Irenicon could take only so much before it became a festering source of disease.
‘Well, let’s all turn troglodyte, then!’ Maddalena snapped and turned to pester Levi.
After the Gonfaloniere had escorted his daughter home, the traditional grumbling began. Where once the Small People had complained about the Families’ exploitation, now they complained about those who sat in the Palazzo del Popolo and kept them out. It was curious: the wider the enfranchisement, the more emboldened the Signoria was to gather taxes. More curious still, the Small People, those without votes, did not complain about the Signoria’s greed but that they could not feed at the trough.
Levi and Sofia did not partake in the griping. They drank and listened to Yuri’s gruff voice beating an Etrurian dirge into some Slavic shape in which he found a pleasing melody. He was in fine spirits despite his defeat.
‘A night in the stables will do Uggeri good,’ Levi said.
Sofia was still irked by Fabbro’s high-handedness, and naturally defensive of her men. ‘There’s nothing wrong with that boy but the want of a war.’
‘You look ready to do battle yourself,’ Levi remarked.
Sofia threw him a streak of silver, which he tried to catch but missed. The coin floated to the bottom of his tankard. When he saw it was Ariminumese, Levi sighed.
‘I got that on the bridge today. We’re trading with those dogs!’
Levi knew what was coming. ‘We’re going to need them.’
‘They sold John Acuto. They stood by as Concord attacked us. What’s the point of keeping your company in beer if we—’
‘I hate Ariminum as much as you, but do you really want to start a second war when we still have the Concordians to worry about? This town’s not big enough to—’
‘We’re a city now, Podesta,’ Pedro interrupted. He sat down beside them, pleasantly tipsy.
Sofia relaxed and eyed Levi humorously. Pedro didn’t drink often, but when he did he talked like his father. ‘What’s the difference?’
‘In a town you know your murderer’s name.’
‘When did you get so cynical?’ Levi asked.
‘When the Palazzo della Signoria was renamed the Palazzo del Popolo,’ said Pedro without hesitation. ‘A sop to the Small People.’
‘The Families used to ignore them,’ Sofia said. ‘Surely that was worse?’
‘Was it? Farmers think of spring lambs often, but their thoughts are not kind. They change the name and hope the Small People are too stupid to notice that a body that can’t agree on anything agrees that every new tax proposed is vital. And if one’s repealed, they execute a flanking move and tax the food we eat and wine we drink. The Morello used only to break our legs. At least they left our hearts intact.’
‘Listen to the communard,’ Sofia laughed.
Levi finished his drink and said, ‘Long live whoever wins.’
CHAPTER 26
Isabella woke before the other girls. Her chamber faced east, and the rising sun lifted her gently from sleep. She preferred it so: the night she had woken suddenly to fire was still a scorching memory. While Rasenna slept for a few more hours, she performed her exercises with the gravity of someone far older than thirteen. The fire had taken much, but it gave Isabella the strength to hold the convent together after the Reverend Mother and Sister Lucia were slain; her duty, as theirs had been, was to serve Time, and to divert those who would divert it.
Sofia had become her teacher of Water Style. She took Isabella to the bridge to observe the Irenicon, telling her there was a still-greater river all around, carrying them all into the next hour, the next year and finally, into infinity, and that if she became aware of it, she could use it. Like Sofia, Isabella had been raised in a bandieratori tower, so the physical part came easy. Self-control took longer; she only attained it by burying certain memories.
When she felt ready she went to the chapel carrying a jug of water and a glass. She sat at the low table looking up at the depiction of the Virgin and made the Sign of the Sword. She filled the glass with a trembling hand. The water fluttered