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PART I PIER-ARIANA SALIER Chapter 6

  Pier-Ariana put down her psaltry and rounded on di Santo-Germano. "What do you mean, you may have to be away more than a year? Are you going to return at all?" Her small music room was glistening in the shine of dozens of hanging oil-lamps, their soft light suffusing the room with a pale-golden glow; the church-bells had chimed nine a short while ago, and night was settling in over Venezia, a thin, low-lying mist rising from the canals into the warm, damp evening.

  "I am not planning to be gone so long, yet it may be that I will: it is not what I want, carina, but it is something I must consider. " He set down the portfolio of her new motets and songs, and regarded her steadily, his black dogaline-and-doublet making him a shadow in the refulgent illumination. "This will be published, you need not fear. Giovanni has the paper ordered already, and he will begin work on the book as soon as you deliver the last of your compositions. He tells me that the first book is doing very well, and says he believes the second will do better. " His dark eyes held hers. "I gave you my Word that you would not suffer for my absence, and as far as I am able, I will see to it that you do not. "

  She hesitated, but there was no lessening of her indignation. "You said you did not have to be away so long. "

  "And I assumed I did not," he responded in a practical tone. "But matters have become more complicated, and I fear I must set aside the time to deal with them. Had I been in Antwerp or Bruges and you, here in Venezia, encountered more complex difficulties than first anticipated, you would rightly expect me to allocate more time to your situation than I had at first, would you not. " He held out his hand to her. "My two presses have been the subject of investigations-the one in Amsterdam may well be next-and I need to be present to disentangle the Gordian Knot that has resulted from the inquiries. I apologize for putting you in such an awkward position. "

  "How do you know this is true?" Pier-Ariana pursued, ignoring the last.

  "I know it is true because I have received an official writ of interrogation this morning from certain officials in Antwerp who inform me that my presses have been singled out for full examination, not only for political lapses, but religious ones as well, for which reason they are submitting a number of questions to me that I am to answer under oath before a sworn official, and return to them as soon as possible. I have spoken to one of the Doge's Savii to perform this service, so that the officials in the north cannot argue that I have defied them. If I fail to do this, my presses and all they produce will be confiscated and burned, and all my property seized, and my associates will become exiles, which they do not deserve. " He shook his head once. "So it is out of my hands, and I must present myself in Antwerp before the end of the year. I cannot leave my pressmen and servants to answer for my policies at the risk of their lives. It would dishonor them and me if I did. "

  "Was that why you planned to go there in the first place-did you think something was wrong? Or did you want an excuse to be away from Venezia?" Although she had been making an effort to contain herself, she started to weep silently, tears sliding unheeded down her face.

  "I was hoping to address the matter before it became-as you put it-wrong, but I seem to have miscalculated. " He had to concentrate to keep from recalling the times in the past when similar errors had cost him dearly; Pier-Ariana needed his full attention.

  "So you will not make any more binding plan than that you will be gone for more than a year?" She flung this at him in an emotion between fury and despair. "You could be gone much longer. "

  "Until I understand what the actual circumstances are, I cannot pledge myself more rigidly than this: that if I must be away longer than a year, I shall inform you of it, and I will do my utmost to return as quickly as possible," he said, lightly touching her shoulder before sliding his hand down her back to her waist, supporting her without confining her. "You deserve more of me, I know, and were I better informed, I would-"

  She cast herself onto his chest, her voice cracking as she gave way to crying. "Why? Why must you go? It's hard enough for me with you here; my work is thought odd, but no one disparages me, not while I have such a patron as you. No one tries to stop me from doing my work. If you are gone, what will become of me?"

  "You will go on as you have-you will compose and Giovanni will take your compositions and compile them into books. You will live here with your servants, and my business factor, Gennaro Emerenzio-you know him-will tend to your expenses, just as he would do if I were here. " He drew her close, making no effort to cajole her from her weeping. "Pier-Ariana, I will miss you every day I am gone. "

  "But it will not be enough to bring you back in less than a year," she lamented.

  "I will return as soon as I may," he said, his voice dropping to a deep, mellifluous note.

  "So you say now. But men are faithless creatures. " She shoved herself away from him, pinching the bridge of her nose to stop the flow of her tears.

  "But, as you know, I am not like other men," he said.

  "You, more than most, will not remain faithful; it isn't in your nature," she accused. "I know you, and what you need. You will have other women. You must. "

  "But I will not compromise you," he said. Five hundred years ago he might have tried to approach her, to reassure her, but after Huegenet and Demetrice, he knew better than to attempt to persuade Pier-Ariana to change her mind; he decided to offer her the only truthful pledge he could. "My feeling for you will not lessen because I have feelings for another: believe this. "

  "So you tell me," she exclaimed. "Gran' Dio, I hate this! I might as well be a hapless trull, serving men's pleasure for a chance to eat. " She sat down on an upholstered stool. "It isn't really like that. You're not using me unkindly; I know that. Most women would thank the Saints and Angels day and night for such a protector as you are, as I do, when I see what happens to others. And it isn't as if you've promised me anything beyond-"

  "-beyond what we have now," he said calmly. "Nor did you ask it. "

  "And I wouldn't want it, for it would take away from my music," she said, sounding defeated. "But this is different, isn't it?"

  "It is something you have not had to endure with me. I have been in Venezia for all our association. " He took a step nearer to her.

  "Antwerp and Bruges, and Amsterdam are all far away," she said, and sighed. "Even an urgent message, carried by private couriers, would take at least ten days to reach Venezia from there. "

  "There are farther places," said di Santo-Germano, thinking back to China, to Russia, to the destruction of Delhi. "I have returned from them all. "

  She made a mess of trying to laugh. "I should be grateful, then, that you go only as far as the Low Countries?" The shine of perspiration on her upper lip glistened in the lamp-light. "Or that you have left me so well-provided for? You say you do not want my gratitude, but you do all in your power to deserve it, in spite of your going away. You will not change your mind, will you?"

  "No, but you can take some comfort that I am not cut off from you by oceans or deserts or mountains. " He held out his hands to her as he had done earlier. "I will not put you at a disadvantage, carina, whether here or far away. "

  "But you will not put others at a disadvantage, either, will you?" Her chin came up and she glared at him through the shine in her eyes.

  Di Santo-Germano took a long breath. "What sort of man would I be if I abjured my covenant with others?"

  "You tell me you are not a man at all, not a living one, anyway," she said in sudden world-weariness.

  He regarded her steadily. "All the more reason for me to uphold-"

  "What does it matter?" She dropped her head. "You will do what you will do. "

  He stood still, her pain as palpable to him as a blow would be. "They are in danger on my account. I cannot abandon them; as I would not abandon you. " He spoke gently, his enigmatic gaze fix
ed on her.

  "So you will go north," she said.

  "At the end of summer. That still gives us seven weeks in which to arrange all that you require during my absence. "

  "Seven weeks," she said as if the words could conjure power for her. "Seven weeks. "

  "Yes. " He dropped down on one knee beside her. "You and I will devote our time to guarding you from harm. "

  She bit her lower lip so that it would not tremble. "You are not going to change your mind, are you? You will go to Antwerp, won't you?"

  "Yes, I will-unless there is a change in the state of affairs in the Low Countries, which hardly seems likely. " He took her hand and kissed her palm to punctuate each of his promises. "But I will not forsake you. I will not be gone any longer than I must be. I will not leave you without means to live; that would be a most reprehensible imposition upon you. I will arrange matters so that you will be able to manage for yourself in my absence. I will make sure there is an official record of these provisions. "

  "I am most grateful," she said very deliberately, and turned her hand to enclose his. "I do not ask you to forget the others, but I do not want you to forget me, either. Without you, I have no one to turn to. "

  "I could not forget you, carina, not ever," he said gently, his touch as persuasive as his voice. "You are part of me. "

  She let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I wish I understood that. "

  "Whether or not you understand, it is true," he told her, rising and lifting her to her feet as he did. "Pier-Ariana, listen to me: you are dear to me, and will always be dear to me, from now until I am truly dead. I will not leave you to flounder, nor will I take away anything I have bestowed upon you; I have given you my Word upon it. This house is yours no matter what may happen. Giovanni will print your music as long as you care to compose it and write it down. With or without me, you will not find yourself hapless in the world. " He touched her face, his fingers light and lingering. "You must not fear that you will lose anything while I am gone. "

  "I will lose you," she said, her embrace tightening. "Without you, the rest is chaff. "

  "You would not think so if it were taken from you," he said somberly. "I do not want you to have to accommodate other demands. "

  "Do you think so little of me?" She released him again. "That I seek only your support?" Before he could speak, she continued. "Of course you do. What rich man does not think such things of his mistress?"

  "I do not think you accept me only for my money, or my press, and if all I wanted was a compliant female body, there are courtesans in plenty in Venezia. No, Pier-Ariana: I value you and your gifts, and I know that if you were reduced to singing in brothels, no one would remember your songs. "

  "Perhaps I should go on the stage, as some women have done already?" She cocked her head, being intentionally provocative.

  "If that would suit you, then do as you must; it will not change my regard. It pleases me to let the world know your music. " He said it bluntly, and held her while she thought out what he said. "Your songs are as dear to me as your kisses. "

  Pier-Ariana sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, and did her best to keep skepticism from her remark. "No doubt you're genuine in what you tell me. "

  "It is a matter of worth," he said, kindness making his words tender. "You have so much to offer, and I would not want to be bereft of any of it. "

  She tried to laugh but it caught in her throat and she began to weep again. "I apologize for-"

  "For what?" he asked, and kissed her forehead.

  She wiped her face with the back of her hand. "For this. "

  "It does not trouble me," he said. "Your talent makes you more responsive to all around you. "

  "I feel I am a puppet of my emotions," she muttered, her body becoming tense although she remained in his arms.

  "At least you perceive these things, and you know the strength of your emotions. Most around you are equally susceptible but will not acknowledge it, or turn it to use. " He waited a long moment, then added, "You have no reason to be disconcerted with me, not for this, or for anything. "

  "And you, are you never taken in passion?" she asked.

  "You ask this of me?" He smiled his amusement.

  "I didn't mean that. " She averted her face briefly. "I meant all the rest of it. "

  He offered her a serious answer. "Those who seek revelation in art are creatures of passion, and display their passion in many ways. "

  "You accept my volatility as part of my music?" She kissed his cheek lightly. "I suppose I should be grateful for that. "

  "I have told you how I view gratitude," he said, and took her face in his hands, turning her head so that their eyes held. "I take you as Pier-Ariana, and all that that entails. "

  She studied his face. "I wish I didn't have so many uncertainties. "

  "And I," he admitted. "But you do, and I comprehend many of them. " He stepped back as Baltassare came into the room carrying a platter of broiled sardines and a glass carafe of pale wine.

  "If you would, put those down on that table. " She pointed to one of two pillar-tables with round marble tops.

  Baltassare did as she told him, saying, "The kitchen fires are banked for the night and all but the front door have been bolted. Do you require anything more, or will this suffice for the night?"

  "You may all retire," said Pier-Ariana.

  "Sta bene, Signorina," said Baltassare, and left them alone.

  "He listens at doors," Pier-Ariana confided when they were alone again.

  "That is not surprising," said di Santo-Germano. "I would be more troubled if he did not. "

  She blinked and stared at him. "What do you mean?"

  "He can report nothing to your discredit if he listens at doors, not without lying," said di Santo-Germano, raising his voice enough to have it carry. "And anything put in a Lion's Mouth must be signed or it is ignored. " These imposing information-boxes were posted in various places in the city, for the benefit of the Collegio and the two Consiglii.

  "At least so they claim," said Pier-Ariana. "Besides, of my servants, only Baltassare reads and writes, though not very well. He could not make an accusation that anyone would regard with attention. "

  "You would have to do worse things than write music for either of the Consiglii to consider you a danger. " Di Santo-Germano touched her arm. "The Minor Consiglio has already investigated me, so it is unlikely that they would proceed against you, no matter what your servants might say. "

  "I pray you are right," she said, and went to eat a few of the broiled sardines. She washed them down with a glass of the straw-colored wine. "I do not know what I would do if I had to leave Venezia. "

  "You have no reason to think you might have to, not on my account," said di Santo-Germano, hoping it was true. "But if it should come to that, I have ships that can take you to any port you desire. "

  "But I desire no other port than this one," she exclaimed. "I speak only the Venetian tongue and enough Latin to satisfy the priests. Where could I go that I would not have to . . . to sing in a brothel?" She chose his phrase carefully.

  "I will make arrangements for you, if you are worried. " He thought while she poured herself more wine. "I have an old associate who would probably be willing to help you. I will contact her and see what she suggests. "

  "When you say old what do you mean?" Pier-Ariana stared hard at him.

  "I mean that she has known me for a very long time," said di Santo-Germano. "A very long time. "

  "Capizolo," she said in the Venetian dialect, nodding decisively.

  "It is a good thing you understand," he responded. "I will tell you more once I have her answer. Then you can make arrangements that suit you, and my old friend as well. " He decided to send word to Olivia in
the morning; a courier could be hired to carry his letter to her estate at Nepete on the Via Cassia, and get a reply in return in twelve days.

  Pier-Ariana ate another sardine and stared at the nearest oil-lamp. "I hope it will not come to that. "

  "I truly doubt that it will," said di Santo-Germano, and busied himself latching the shutters over the windows. "A pity to have to close up the house on such a warm night, but-"

  She nodded. "But thieves are everywhere and an open window is an invitation to steal. "

  He looked around the room. "You would not like to lose any of your instruments. "

  "Or have them broken," she said, and took a step toward him. "I have been a trial tonight, haven't I? I ask your pardon for my excesses. "

  "You have done nothing deserving pardon, Pier-Ariana; you have expressed your affection and concern for me: what can I be but flattered?" He offered her a quick smile.

  "With worries for myself larded on," she said self-effacingly. "For that alone, then, I ask your pardon. "

  "If you must have it, then know that you do, though there is no need," he said, and opened his arms to her, enfolding her as she reached him.

  "You are so elusive, Conte. You are at once the most generous lover and the most equivocal. " She turned in his arms, but only to be able to kiss his lips more easily; the remnants of sardines gave them a fishy savor. As she broke their kiss, she said a bit unsteadily, "I was afraid that you were tired of me, or had come to dislike my work. "

  "Why should I?" he asked, kissing the corner of her mouth.

  "Because I am a turbulent woman-or so my father told me I would be," she said, fingering the narrow ruff of pleated lace along the edge of his camisa's neck.

  "Fathers often worry that their daughters may not be the perfected creatures they expect, and their fears make it inevitable that their daughters will disappoint them," said di Santo-Germano, his lips lingering, feather-light, on hers.

  "And how many daughters have you had, that you know this?" she teased, and then fell silent at the haunted expression that crossed his attractive, irregular features like a shadow; she wished her words unsaid, but dared not speak again.

  "I've had none," he said softly. "But I have known other men's daughters. " Their faces flickered through his memory, each woman distinct and precious, all but one lost to him now, through mortal death, the True Death, or deliberate estrangement. He regarded her without speaking for some little time, then lifted her into his arms as if she weighed no more than her virginals, and made for the door.

  "You are very strong," she murmured. "I have noticed before. "

  "I trust others are less observant," he said, climbing the stairs that led to her bedchamber half a floor above the music room without any effort or lessening of speed.

  A single lamp shone in the gloom of the bedchamber, just above her kneeling bench with her rosary laid across a leather-bound copy of The New Testament, illustrated with handsome wood-cuts done by Lindo Guardin, with a frontispiece in three colors. Her bed was curtained in red-and-tan bargello-work hangings, all but one of them just now closed. Two clothes-chests stood against opposite walls, both with painted scenes on their doors and panels, so that the shine of reflected water on the house-front visible out the window seemed incongruous. The walls had murals of espaliered fruit trees on rustic stone fences, so that the small benches under the windows looked as if they might be countryside amenities, and the ceiling was pale blue with clusters of blossom-like clouds gathering in the four corners.

  Di Santo-Germano put her down beside her bed and pulled off his black damask silk dogaline, flinging it onto the bench under the nearest window. He touched the laces on the back of her corsage. "Shall I unfasten this for you?"

  "I don't want to call Merula just now, and it can't be done without help," she said, keeping her voice low, for her 'tirewoman slept in the small apartment on the far side of the large dressing room on the other side of this bedchamber. "If you wouldn't mind?" She tugged the ends of the laces out from the top of her fine ruched-muslin gonnella.

  Taking the ends of the laces in his hands, di Santo-Germano unfastened the simple knots that held the corsage closed, then loosened them until Pier-Ariana could shrug out of the upper part of her dress, revealing the sheer-linen guimpe beneath, and her corset. "How do women alone ever manage to dress themselves?" he asked the air.

  "It is very difficult," said Pier-Ariana, unfastening the two dozen little bows that closed the front of her guimpe, frowning as one of the bows became a knot. "Unless one wishes to dress like a peasant, some assistance is needed. These garments need a second set of hands to be worn properly, or undone without damage. " She broke the small ribbon of silk. "At least you don't try to make love while undressing. "

  "Why should I-since you dislike it?" He removed the fine gold chain from around her neck, and the polished aquamarine pendant that it held; these he set on the nearest chest and returned to assisting her out of her clothes.

  "It's all so impractical," she complained, picking another knot of ribbon open.

  While di Santo-Germano worked the ends of the broad bands holding her voluminous silk skirt and the gonnella beneath, he remarked, "A few centuries ago, noblemen wore shoes so pointed that they could not walk up and down stairs while wearing them. " He dropped her skirt so she could step out of it, then started on the gonnella. "In such weather as Venezia has had, it is unfortunate that we all must wear so much to be properly dressed. "

  "You could do what Tiberio Tedeschi does, and dress like a Turk; he even attends meetings of the Collegio so attired," she pointed out, half-seriously. "At least he is cool in the summer. "

  "Tiberio Tedeschi is a man of impeccable Venezian lineage, with four Consiglieri for cousins: he could dress like a Chinese warlord and no one would say a word. But, as I am an exile, I must follow the strictures of Venezia while I am here. " He held her hand while she stepped out of the pleated froth of her gonnella, then tugged at the closure of his doublet; the scent of her jasmine perfume grew stronger.

  "When you are in Bruges, you will dress in their manner, I suppose?" She pressed her lips together, not wanting to remember his coming absence; she used her silence to step out of her high-soled shoes.

  "Of course," he said, and started to work on the complex lacing of her corset.

  "The same in London?" Her voice had gone up three notes.

  "Oh, yes; and in Kiev and in Delhi, and in almost any place but Africa," he said, and bent to kiss the nape of her neck.

  "Why not Africa?" She was truly curious.

  "Because I cannot change my skin, and there I am clearly a foreigner, no matter how I dress. There, I am completely exposed; I cannot alter my appearance sufficiently to disguise my origins, or to present myself acceptably, as I might in China. " He pulled her corset away from her body.

  She turned to face him. "And you've been to China, I suppose?"

  "Yes," he said. "I have. "

  She looked up into his eyes. "And you could go there again?"

  "I might, in time. But not just now," he whispered, and bent to kiss her, following her arousal with his own. He did not move to touch her body until she took a last half-step nearer and wrapped her arms around his waist. Continuing the kiss, he slowly stroked her back, marveling in the texture of her skin and feeling the first stirrings of her arousal.

  "You never remove your camisa, or your lower garments," she said as she turned a little in his arms, addressing her remarks to the top closure of his camisa.

  "No, and I have already told you that I never will. " He paused in his graceful caresses.

  "It seems a waste," she said, attempting to pull his camisa from the waist-band of his French barrel-breeches.

  He stopped her gently. "I have scars, carina-you would not like them. " They extended from his rib cage to the
base of his pelvis: broad swathes of porcelain-white, striated tissue which marked the disemboweling that had killed him, thirty-five centuries ago.

  "So you tell me," she said as she stepped back and went to throw herself onto the bed, facedown, her bare feet sticking over the side and through the open curtains. "Just when I begin to think I am vexed with you, I realize that you have done something out of your consideration of me. " She slapped the coverlet on which she lay. "I will take what you are willing to give me," she said as if conceding a game of chance. "You are a most welcome lover, no matter how you are clothed. "

  He went to her, stretching out beside her, where he began to touch her back and flank, making no effort to turn her on her side. His hands were adventuresome and playful, turning her body pliant. Gradually he worked his way from her shoulder to her elegant, trim waist, his kisses following the progress of his hands. Nothing he did was hurried; all his evocation waited upon her response and her pleasure. As he slid one hand around her to fondle her breasts, teasing her nipples into excitation, she gave a rapturous murmur, but remained prone, taking all his attentive exploration into herself, cherishing his magnanimity that placed her satisfaction before his own. Her breathing changed, and in a sudden movement, he pulled her on top of him to lie supine, her legs on either side of his. His camisa pressed into her back, but that hardly mattered to her as his hands went along her abdomen to the cleft between her legs, where his magical caresses continued. She was both utterly free and completely captivated by his embrace, and she felt a kind of rapture that was so wholly personal that she had no words to express it, only sensations.

  Gradually she felt her body gather, and as the first of her spasms shook her, she felt his mouth touch her neck even as the fulfillment of her desire exalted her beyond the confines of her bed, her house, even her flesh, to that realm where she was deliriously enveloped in soaring melodies for what felt like hours. Finally she shifted off him, back in the world. "How do you do that?" she said at last, her breathing still a bit unsteady.

  "It is your doing, carina Pier-Ariana," di Santo-Germano murmured. "I do only what you seek for me to do. "

  "So you say," she said, and rolled to face him so she could wrap her arms around him before she floated into sleep.

  Text of a letter to Ruggier in Venezia from Bogardt van Leun in Amsterdam, written in French, carried by private courier, and delivered twelve days after it was given to the courier.

  To the houseman Ruggier at the house of Franzicco Ragoczy, Conte di Santo-Germano on the Campo San Luca in Venezia, of the Serenissima Repubblica, the greetings of Bogardt van Leun, steward of the house of the Grav, Germain Ragoczy, in Amsterdam, with the assurance that all will soon be in readiness for His Excellency's arrival.

  I thank you for sending us notice of the Grav's coming, and his plans to remain here for three or four months through the winter. I have followed all your instructions in regard to preparing the house, including the spreading of earth from the trunks stored in the house over the foundations, and under the floor of the Grav's room. We have also stopped all leaks from the canal that have come into the house. New paint has gone into rooms where there has been damp, and two bracing boards have been replaced on the side of the house. We have also realigned the rear door and put new paint on it as well.

  We are now provisioning the house for your stay, and we have begun the inspections of all beds and bedding, and will perform those tasks you have set for us by the time you arrive. I will have taken on the required additional staff by then.

  I have exchanged mail with Jaquet Saint Philemon, my counterpart in Bruges, but have yet had no word from Simeon Roosholm in Antwerp, which may only mean that the soldiers are delaying couriers again, but may have more serious implications. I mention this so that you and the Grav will be aware of what you might expect in the Lowlands. In the meantime, you may rest assured that our labors go on apace.

  With my high regard to His Excellency and with my respects to you,

  I sign myself,

  Bogardt van Leun

  steward

  In Amsterdam by my own hand on the 2ndday of July, 1530