Free States of Grace by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

horses, tack, weapons, and guides; all other expenses are to be borne by you. If this is satisfactory, please dispatch your acceptance to us at Padua, to Marcello d’Ombrucelli at the Sign of the Blue Bear on Saint Honoria’s Square. If I do not hear from you in a fortnight, I will regard that as proof of lack of interest in the terms I have proposed.

    Your Excellency’s to command,
James Belfountain, Commander
The Black Cross Company
     

    At Padua, the 3 nd day of June, AD 1530. By my own hand.

5
     
    With a long belch that sent the barmaid scurrying back toward the counter, Basilio Cuor turned to study Leoncio Sen’s smug visage. “And I suppose you think you’re doing well?” he asked sarcastically, though his voice was hardly more than a whisper. He looked more uncouth than usual, with large yellowish stains on his camisa from sweat and other, less savory things; his leather doublet was unfastened, its front gaping wide, and his canvas round-hose were badly in need of washing.
    “Of course I’m doing well,” said Leoncio. “Better than you, in any case.” He touched the piping on his doublet, preening with satisfaction.
    Cuor shook his head slowly. “If you think that, then you’re a greater fool than I suspected, Camilio.”
    “You don’t have to call me that,” Leoncio protested. “You know whose nephew I am.”
    “But it’s best if I don’t know which nephew,” said Cuor, leaning toward Leoncio. “Your uncle calls you Camilio to me.”
    “Why? Because you insist upon it?” Leoncio was indignant.
    “Yes, I do, and you should remember the reason,” said Cuor, shooting a glare at the barmaid to keep her a good distance away. “What do you think our work is? We’re supposed to be invisible. So what do you do? You actually ran after di Santo-Germano’s gondola, not once, or twice, but four times I have seen. And if I have seen you, so have others. You’ve made him suspicious by being too obvious. What were you thinking? If he hasn’t noticed by now, he must be blind, and his gondolier an idiot.”
    “You’re offensive,” said Leoncio with as much hauteur as he could muster. “You are dissolute, debauched, dirty, dis—”
    “I know I am. I intend to be. It is a pity you’re too vain not to cultivate my slovenliness.” Cuor took a deep breath. “You have almost ruined all the work I have done. Now di Santo-Germano knows he is being watched, and that makes my task far more difficult than it was. And I, unlike you, have made progress.”
    “You—work?” Leoncio laughed nastily.
    “I have warned you not to assume anything about me,” said Cuor, and raised his voice, “I’ll have your money shortly; my Word on it.”
    “What are you doing?” Leoncio hissed.
    Cuor’s voice was soft again. “I am keeping the barmaid away from us. If our meeting seems ugly, we’ll be left alone.”
    “Who’d listen to a barmaid?” Leoncio chuckled.
    “Those whose work it is to listen—men like me; there are more of us than you would guess.” Cuor looked directly into Leoncio’s face. “Until you made such a botch of your part of our mission, I had worked up a contact with the under-steward at di Santo-Germano’s house, but thanks to you, that’s come to nothing; I can’t get anything more out of him. The Conte has warned his staff against outsiders who are suspicious, and they have taken his warning to heart. Not even a new baker’s assistant was welcome at the house this morning. And I— I —was forbidden to enter San Luca by Padre Bonnome when I asked what would usually be ignored questions about di Santo-Germano.”
    “Surely you don’t think it is because of anything I’ve done?” Leoncio asked, affronted.
    “I think it is precisely because of what you’ve done. No doubt di Santo-Germano would have become aware of something eventually, but your obvious, clumsy pursuit has alerted him much earlier in the game than I had anticipated.” He shoved Leoncio’s shoulders.