Chapter Two, Part XIII
Carmagnola met them at the same small house, only this time they entered it through another entrance. D’Urbino had received them at a small woodcarver’s shop and led them through a maze of backyards until they again stood in the familiar small room, the doors to the garden closed this time and small fire doing its best to reduce the chill.
Sif looked around, the house looked unused and smelled dusty and humid, like it had been closed off for most of the fall. Carmagnola stood up from the table where he had been sitting and reading and came forward.
“My young friends, so good to see you again, I’m sorry to have been incommunicado for so long.” He threw a sidelong glance at Benedict who hovered in the background. “And you, Benedict, I have heard things about you and Stefanos, it was quite a spectacle you managed to produce, the merchants of this fair city are scurrying about like an anthill, kicked over. Don’t look so surprised, I have it from a reliable source.” He waved in the direction of a set of comfortable chairs, “but come now, be seated and I’ll ring for some hot wine, you too, Benedict, what I have to tell will benefit your plans and I can leave the details for Arn’s ears for later.”
They all found a seat and D’Urbino left only to return moments later with a tray. Once everybody was comfortable, Carmagnola leaned forward.
“Where to begin?”
The Condottiere sipped the wine offered by his Lieutenant before continuing.
“I know you have been trying to figure out what the head of the Milanese army was doing in Venice,” He looked at Benedict, who merely shrugged, “Well truth be told I have been negotiating directly with the Doge for my services.”
Arn and Sif looked startled and annoyed, but Benedict merely smiled, knowing the way of warfare in Italy, and raised an eyebrow quizzically. Carmagnola smiled at the reactions and looked at Benedict,
“To answer your unspoken question, it was done without that little weasel, Petrini.” Benedict merely grinned at the idea and Carmagnola continued.
“It was the Doge who told me about the Byzantine offer of alliance, and as you can imagine, he is most anxious to turn this to his own profit.” Benedict sat up a little straighter, this was most unusual, not only to have the Doge discuss this with a mercenary, but also to reveal it to a foreigner. Perhaps the Italian mercenaries carried more weight than he had given them credit for?
Carmagnola grinned, “I thought you might like it. Anyways I pressured him a bit and pretended to be reluctant and finally he caved in. He will accept your Alliance, but not for the sake of trade, well not only for the sake of trade, but for the sake of those Italian states that have allied themselves to Athens. His hope is that you’ll declare war and then crush Athens, but not before he has grabbed some of those states. The only thing standing in his way are Milan and if he can count on me to change sides, then he will not only have a ready army, but also rob Milan of theirs.”
Benedict nodded, a bold move and it would serve to aid the Empire in its struggle against Athens if not against the Turks.
Carmagnola sat for a while in silence as if he had postponed a major decision until the last moment. Finally he sighed and looked for long time at Arn.
“I have come to a decision, because of what your father did, and the promise I gave him, I will play along the Doge’s plans for a while, at least until you have left the city with your alliance signed. What I do thereafter is uncertain, but I’m reluctant to back Venice’s grab for Italian unification.”
Benedict nodded, strange how support always seemed to come from the strangest of places.
Carmagnola was still looking at Arn, “If I don’t go to war for Venice, then it will also mean that I can spare a few men. D’Urbino will come with you to Constantinople along with a select group of my men.” Carmagnola looked brusque, but his voice was hoarse, “Tell your father that I have paid my debt in the best way I could.”
Arn merely nodded, too overwhelmed to answer.
The meeting quickly broke up, partly because everything was said and partly because the Greek trio needed to get back before anybody figured out where they had been.
Carmagnola’s predictions turned out to be true. At a grand ball a couple of days later the Doge and Stefanos signed the Alliance with a smug looking Petrini hovering in the background. Benedict who made sure to be as inconspicuous as possible couldn’t help wondering how the Venetian would look once it became apparent that Carmagnola wouldn’t leave Milan this time.
Two days after the ball, a happy and exhausted Greek delegation bid their farewell to a gray, cold and winter covered Venice, joined up with their two escorts and turned their bows south. As they reach the waters outside Ancona on the Italian coast they stopped the journey briefly as a small skiff shot out of the harbor. The skiff only remained for as long as it took some twenty odd men to board the Galley and as soon as that was done the three Greek Galleys continued their journey home.
