neglected, trivialities like defence, all the fat sheep are gone.’
‘And so he has to deal with you. How indebted is he?’
‘He’s the most ostentatious pauper you’re ever likely to meet. Twenty thousand soldi.’
‘
Merda
. Where did you even get that kind of money to lend?’
‘My dear boy, that is the simplest thing in the world. A rich man’s stool reeks like ours, but every man considers his debt perfume. I sold it on to investors in the form of five-hundred-soldi bonds, thus raising the cash and pocketing a substantial commission. We want the League to succeed, but it’s profit that makes our chimney smoke.’
‘Don’t try to explain that to Grimani,’ said Costanzo gleefully. ‘He thinks it immoral that we make him pay interest.’
‘If it’s high, I’m sure you have reason,’ said Pedro. ‘What is your opinion of Veii’s prospects?’
‘Oh, it’s not like that at all. I just have to cover my arse,’ Salvatore laughed. ‘The duke gives me a hard time, but as you see, he knows how to treat his guests.’
Pedro reflected how far the Bombelli had come from Rasenna, and the contrast between these extravagant apartments and the joyous anarchy of Tower Bombelli. He remembered tripping over bolts of cloth, hitting his head on the camphor pomades that hung from the counting room’s ceiling. He remembered Fabbro fretting over his scales and rapping orders to his sons while Maddalena offered advice on everything. Sweet memories. At last, Pedro ventured onto the subject that had been on his mind since they met. ‘Salvatore, your father and I didn’t always agree, especially towards the end, but above all else he cared aboutfamily. He would rather have seen the Bombelli beggared and united than the richest family in Etruria and hating each other.’
Warmth drained from the banker’s smile. ‘And I would rather he was alive. That woman is dead to me,’ he said simply.
‘We would have looked after her,’ Costanzo said, ‘but she connived with a foreign dog to kill our father.’
‘You don’t know that—’
‘We know she stole our patrimony,’ said Guido, ‘and for that alone, she deserves a traitor’s death.’
Salvatore’s face darkened further. ‘You find that funny, Pedro?’
‘No, I was laughing at myself. When you declared against Concord, I took it as a sign that our chances were decent. Now I realise it’s just your Rasenneisi blood that makes you willing to back a loser.’
‘Our motivations don’t matter any more,’ said Guido. ‘Only money matters from here on. Without credit, no city eats and no army marches.’
*
The long table was carpeted with a menagerie of meats and fresh fruit, and there was enough wine to dizzy an army. A new set of candles burned their hearts out as servants danced around the guests and fiddlers clawed the silence away. The four elders who represented Veii’s four lower hills sat with Doctor Ferruccio, Pedro and the Bombelli brothers, but they ate and drank little. Their silent presence was required whenever Duke Grimani wanted to impress upon foreigners that his reign was stable. In spite of all the effort, there was a strained quality to the air. It takes practise to make guests at ease, and being a tyrant – aside from the moral implications – can make one an awkward host.
Grimani began with a toast. ‘My
deepest
condolences for the loss of your brother.’ He tipped his glass towards Guido. ‘You must feel the loss most keenly.’
Guido solemnly raised his glass. ‘To Gasparo Bombelli!’
‘I’m just surprised that he couldn’t buy his way out,’ Grimani remarked as he sat down.
The talk moved swiftly on to developments north and south, and the inevitable discussion of that great mystery that even the most penetrating couldn’t unravel – how things had come to this pass.
‘Etruria has but one problem and that is the Etrurians. The people of this land of ours are loyal to the flag of their home town and
‘And so he has to deal with you. How indebted is he?’
‘He’s the most ostentatious pauper you’re ever likely to meet. Twenty thousand soldi.’
‘
Merda
. Where did you even get that kind of money to lend?’
‘My dear boy, that is the simplest thing in the world. A rich man’s stool reeks like ours, but every man considers his debt perfume. I sold it on to investors in the form of five-hundred-soldi bonds, thus raising the cash and pocketing a substantial commission. We want the League to succeed, but it’s profit that makes our chimney smoke.’
‘Don’t try to explain that to Grimani,’ said Costanzo gleefully. ‘He thinks it immoral that we make him pay interest.’
‘If it’s high, I’m sure you have reason,’ said Pedro. ‘What is your opinion of Veii’s prospects?’
‘Oh, it’s not like that at all. I just have to cover my arse,’ Salvatore laughed. ‘The duke gives me a hard time, but as you see, he knows how to treat his guests.’
Pedro reflected how far the Bombelli had come from Rasenna, and the contrast between these extravagant apartments and the joyous anarchy of Tower Bombelli. He remembered tripping over bolts of cloth, hitting his head on the camphor pomades that hung from the counting room’s ceiling. He remembered Fabbro fretting over his scales and rapping orders to his sons while Maddalena offered advice on everything. Sweet memories. At last, Pedro ventured onto the subject that had been on his mind since they met. ‘Salvatore, your father and I didn’t always agree, especially towards the end, but above all else he cared aboutfamily. He would rather have seen the Bombelli beggared and united than the richest family in Etruria and hating each other.’
Warmth drained from the banker’s smile. ‘And I would rather he was alive. That woman is dead to me,’ he said simply.
‘We would have looked after her,’ Costanzo said, ‘but she connived with a foreign dog to kill our father.’
‘You don’t know that—’
‘We know she stole our patrimony,’ said Guido, ‘and for that alone, she deserves a traitor’s death.’
Salvatore’s face darkened further. ‘You find that funny, Pedro?’
‘No, I was laughing at myself. When you declared against Concord, I took it as a sign that our chances were decent. Now I realise it’s just your Rasenneisi blood that makes you willing to back a loser.’
‘Our motivations don’t matter any more,’ said Guido. ‘Only money matters from here on. Without credit, no city eats and no army marches.’
*
The long table was carpeted with a menagerie of meats and fresh fruit, and there was enough wine to dizzy an army. A new set of candles burned their hearts out as servants danced around the guests and fiddlers clawed the silence away. The four elders who represented Veii’s four lower hills sat with Doctor Ferruccio, Pedro and the Bombelli brothers, but they ate and drank little. Their silent presence was required whenever Duke Grimani wanted to impress upon foreigners that his reign was stable. In spite of all the effort, there was a strained quality to the air. It takes practise to make guests at ease, and being a tyrant – aside from the moral implications – can make one an awkward host.
Grimani began with a toast. ‘My
deepest
condolences for the loss of your brother.’ He tipped his glass towards Guido. ‘You must feel the loss most keenly.’
Guido solemnly raised his glass. ‘To Gasparo Bombelli!’
‘I’m just surprised that he couldn’t buy his way out,’ Grimani remarked as he sat down.
The talk moved swiftly on to developments north and south, and the inevitable discussion of that great mystery that even the most penetrating couldn’t unravel – how things had come to this pass.
‘Etruria has but one problem and that is the Etrurians. The people of this land of ours are loyal to the flag of their home town and
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