THE LION’S MOUTH
by
Luigi
Pagano
Smashwords edition
ISBN 978-1-4660-9491-8
© Luigi Pagano 2012
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, by photocopying or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage or retrieval systems, without permission in writing from both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.
***
Venice in the 14th century was a hotbed of conspiracies and intrigues. The secret police had placed lion- shaped letter boxes on the walls of the city so that citizens could inform on one another if they believed treachery was being committed.
***
The gondola should have not been there. Not at that time.
The curfew had been imposed since dusk, yet the craft, propelled by a long single oar - padded to muffle any splashing sound - proceeded slowly and silently along the Grand Canal with its illegal human cargo. Luckily there was no moonlight and the night was pitch black. It would be slow progress to reach their destination even though Fosco knew these waters like the back of his hand. It was a perilous journey with night patrols lurking on the canal banks ready to pounce on unsuspecting travellers.
It had not always been so; most citizens, with the exception of the glassblowers from Murano, had been able to move freely within and outside the Venetian enclave. This freedom would soon be enjoyed again but only for a brief respite with all restrictions lifted for the duration of the carnival celebrations.
These were troubled times. Since the unsuccessful uprising of Baiamonte Tiepolo and the Querini brothers in 1310, the aristocracy had strengthened its hold on the Serenissima, the most serene republic, and established the Council of Ten to curb the power of the Doge and of the unruly disaffected population on whom the noblemen called to realise their ambition. In fact the poor rose to revolt only at the prompting of the ruling classes.
It was now the year of Our Lord 1355 and in addition to the internal strife, the ongoing disputes with the Genoese for the supremacy of the Black Sea trade had put a heavy burden on the City. Even now a war, the third so far, was raging between the two republics.
With any luck matters would come to an end very soon; the "Excellent Lord, by the grace of God, Doge of Venice, Duke of Dalmatia and Croatia, the most Serene Prince", currently Marino Faliero, had promised as much. Yet everybody knew that the enemy had inflicted a bloody nose to the Venetians in their latest skirmish.
Crime was also rampant. The city was divided into six sectors, called sestieri. Each had a government functionary - caposestiere - to administer it, but, perhaps more influential than his official counterpart, a representative of the underworld would also wield power and exercise an alternative form of authority.
It was a boast of Emanuele Scarpa that he and not Marino Faliero was the Doge in sestieri Castello and San Polo.
The sestieri of San Marco, Santa Croce and Cannaregio were the domain of Bartolo the Blind Man. What this man didn't know was not worth knowing. He had intelligence of events before and after they happened and this was the source of many gold ducats changing hands. He seemed to know everyone and could call on favours from many of those in power. The two main protagonists vied for the sestiere Dorsoduro which allowed control of the docks.
***
'Get down, don't make a sound' - the gondolier warned.
He had spotted in the distance the glow of lamp lights dancing in the night.
He steered his vessel to a landing stage and flattened himself next to his companion.
A group of night watchmen was approaching, but on seeing some light filtering through the shuttered windows of a locanda, the thought of a night of revelry overcame their sense of duty and they quickly gatecrashed the inn which was supposed to be closed for the day.
With a sigh of relief Fosco realised the danger was over, for the time being at least. He still had to negotiate the narrow canals feeding off the Grand Canal towards the Fondamente, where the rendezvous had been arranged, and deliver his charge whose name he did not yet know.
The "Englishman", they had said, someone very important, who had come in secret all the way from Florence. He was in fact Sir John Hawkwood, a renowned condottiere known in Italy as Giovanni Acuto, a mercenary who had fought in England and France with his White Company before enrolling on the payroll of the Florentine republic.
During periods of inactivity he was allowed his own agenda, but his masters would have frowned had they known about the mission he had embarked upon.
The intended destination was a tavern plunged in darkness, with its windows blackened by heavy curtains so that no light should be seen from the outside. Inside a dingy smoke-filled room a young nobleman was addressing a mass of rough-looking individuals, no doubt foundry workers from Campo del Ghetto and itinerant seamen.
'My name is Guido Morosini', he said in a clear voice, 'you won't have heard of me but you may know my father Arrigo'.
Nods and murmurs of approval circulated the room; Arrigo Morosini was a pillar of the community, well respected for his charitable work and for being fair at all times in his dealing as a magistrate.
Giovanni Acuto, surveying the scene from the taproom, sensed that the name had been mentioned to give legitimacy to the cause being pursued.
He had been invited to the secret meeting to assess the situation and decide if he and his White Company could provide the backbone to the would-be rebels.
More than backbone was needed here; this rabble army seemed to have been injected with bone jelly! He had in the past joined a lot of causes but never a lost cause.
After listening to a lot of platitudes and rhetoric meant to bolster the fervour of the audience, he realised that the intended sedition was bound to failure.
Only a handful of people were paying any attention to the speaker, preferring to paw the attractive serving wenches who were being kept busy by a high demand for the local wine.
Undaunted by the lack of attention, the young man went on: