The Prince's Doom Read online

  THE PRINCE'S DOOM

  STAR-CROSS'D BOOK 4

  David Blixt

  Copyright (C) 2014 David Blixt

  Layout design and Copyright (C) 2019 by Creativia

  Published 2019 by Creativia

  Cover art by The Killion Group

  Maps by Jill Blixt

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

  English language excerpts of Dante Alighieri's L'INFERNO and PURGATORIO that appear in this novel are from, or adapted from, translations of each text by Robert Hollander and Jean Hollander (Doubleday).

  English language excerpts of THE FABLIAUX that appear in this novel are from, or adapted from, translations of each text by Nathaniel H. Dubin (Liveright).

  English language excerpts of THE BALLAD OF VERONA by Manuello Giudeo are from, or adapted from, a translation by Rita Severi.

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  Table of Contents

  Books by David Blixt

  Dramatis Personae

  Prologue

  ACT I To Wive and Thrive One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  ACT II An Infinite Deal of Nothing Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  ACT III Strive With Things Impossible Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  ACT IV Strange Capers Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  ACT V Dreamers Often Lie Thirty-Seven

  Thirty-Eight

  Thirty-Nine

  Forty

  Forty-One

  Forty-Two

  Forty-Three

  Forty-Four

  Forty-Five

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Books by David Blixt

  The Star-Cross'd Series

  The Master Of Verona

  Voice Of The Falconer

  Fortune's Fool

  The Prince's Doom

  Varnished Faces: Star-Cross'd Short Stories

  Will & Kit

  Her Majesty's Will

  Fire At Will - Coming Soon

  The Colossus Series

  Colossus: Stone & Steel

  Colossus: The Four Emperors

  Colossus: Wail of the Fallen – Coming Soon

  Nellie Bly

  What Girls Are Good For – A Novel of Nellie Bly

  Eve of Ides - A Play

  Non-Fiction

  Shakespeare's Secrets: Romeo & Juliet

  Shakespeare's Secrets: Macbeth (with Janice L Blixt)

  Fighting Words (with Kirby, Leoni, & Gerard)

  IN LOVING MEMORY

  MOLLY GLYNN

  (1968 – 2014)

  A star so bright, she now lights us from above.

  For Jan -

  I would be lost without you

  Dramatis Personae

  ♦ a character recorded by history

  ◊ a character from Shakespeare

  Della Scala Family of Verona

  ♦ FRANCESCO 'CANGRANDE' DELLA SCALA – Ruler of Verona, Imperial Vicar of the Trevisian Mark

  ♦ GIOVANNA DI SVEVIA – Cangrande's wife, Paride's aunt

  ♦ ALBERTO II DELLA SCALA – Cangrande's eldest nephew

  ♦/◊ MASTINO II DELLA SCALA – Cangrande's youngest nephew

  ♦ VERDE DELLA SCALA – Cangrande's eldest niece

  ♦ CATERINA DELLA SCALA – Cangrande's middle niece

  ♦ ALBUINA DELLA SCALA – Cangrande's youngest niece

  ♦/◊ FRANCESCO 'CESCO' DELLA SCALA – Cangrande's heir

  ◊ PARIDE DELLA SCALA – Cangrande's great-nephew, son of the late Cecchino della Scala

  Nogarola Family of Vicenza

  ♦ ANTONIO NOGAROLA – Vicentine nobleman, elder brother to Bailardino

  ♦ BAILARDINO NOGAROLA – Lord of Vicenza, husband to Cangrande's sister, Katerina

  ♦ KATERINA DELLA SCALA – sister to Cangrande, wife of Bailardino

  ♦ BAILARDETTO 'DETTO' NOGAROLA – eldest son of Bailardino and Katerina

  ♦/◊ VALENTINO NOGAROLA – youngest son of Bailardino and Katerina

  Alaghieri Family of Florence

  ♦ PIETRO ALAGHIERI – Dante's heir, lawyer, knight of Verona

  ♦ JACOPO 'POCO' ALAGHIERI – Dante's youngest son

  ♦ ANTONIA ALAGHIERI – Dante's daughter, in holy orders as Suor Beatrice

  Carrara Family of Padua

  ♦ MARSILIO DA CARRARA – Lord of Padua, cousin to Gianozza Montecchio

  ♦ NICCOLO DA CARRARA – cousin of Marsilio, brother to Ubertino

  ♦ UBERTINO DA CARRARA – cousin of Marsilio, brother to Niccolo

  ♦ CUNIZZA DA CARRARA – sister to Marsilio

  ♦ TADDEA DA CARRARA – daughter of the late Il Grande da Carrara, cousin to Marsilio

  Montecchio Family of Verona

  ◊ ROMEO MARIOTTO 'MARI' MONTECCHIO – Lord of Montecchio, father to Romeo

  ◊ GIANOZZA DELLA BELLA – wife to Mariotto, cousin to Carrara, mother to Romeo

  ◊ ROMEO MONTECCHIO – son of Mariotto and Gianozza

  AURELIA MONTECCHIO – sister to Mariotto, wife to Benvenito Lenoti, mother of Benvolio

  BENVENITO LENOTI – knight of Verona, husband to Aurelia, father to Benvolio

  ◊ BENVOLIO LENOTI – cousin to Romeo, son of Benvenito and Aurelia

  Capulletto Family of Verona

  ◊ ANTONIO 'ANTONY' CAPULLETTO – Lord of the Capulletti family, born in Capua

  ◊ ARNALDO CAPULLETTO – uncle to Antony

  ◊ TESSA GUARINI – wife of Antony, mother to Giulietta

  ◊ THEOBALDO 'THIBAULT' CAPULLETTO – nephew to Antony

  ◊ GIULIETTA CAPULLETTO – daughter of Antony and Tessa

  Rienzi Family of Verona

  GASPARDO RIENZI – Lord of the Rienzi family, cuckolded by Cangrande adamo rienzi – Gaspardo's son rosalia 'lia' rienzi – Cangrande's natural daughter by Gaspardo's wife

  Supporting Characters

  ABBESS VERDIANA – Benedictine abbess of Santa Maria in Organo in Verona

  ABRAMO TIBERIO – gruff Veronese noble, friend to Rienzi

  ♦ ALBERTINO MUSSATO – Paduan historian-poet

  ANDRIOLO DA VERONA – Capulletto's chief groom, husband to Angelica

  ANGELICA DA VERONA – Tessa and Thibault's nurse, wife to Andriolo

  AVENTINO FRACASTORO – personal physician to Cangrande

  BAPTISTA MINOLA – Paduan noble, father of Katerina and Bianca

  ♦ BERNARDO ERVARI – knight of Verona, member of the Anziani

  ♦ BISHOP FRANC
IS – Franciscan Bishop, leader of Verona's spiritual growth

  EVELINA BONAVENTURA – daughter of Petruchio and Katerina

  ◊ FRA LORENZO – Franciscan friar with family in France

  ♦ FRANCESCO DANDOLO – Venetian nobleman

  ♦ FRANCESCO 'PETRARCH' PETRARCHA – Florentine exile, aspiring poet

  ♦ GHERARDO PETRARCHA – Florentine exile, younger brother to Petrarch

  ♦ GUGLIELMO CASTELBARCO – Veronese nobleman, Cangrande's Armourer

  ♦ GUGLIELMO II CASTELBARCO – Castelbarco's son

  GUISEPPE MORSICATO – Nogarola family doctor

  ◊ HORTENSIO & PETRUCHIO II BONAVENTURA – twin sons of Katerina and Petruchio

  ◊ KATERINA BONAVENTURA – Paduan-born heiress, wife to Petruchio Bonaventura

  ♦ LUCIA PETRARCHA – Florentine exile, aspiring poet

  ♦ MANOELLO GIUDEO – Cangrande's Master of Revels, a Jew

  MASSIMILIANO DA VILLAFRANCA – Constable of Cangrande's palace

  ♦ NICCOLO DA LOZZO – Paduan knight, changed sides to join Cangrande

  NIKLAS FUCHS – German-born friend to Mastino

  ♦ PASSERINO BONACCOLSI – Podestà of Mantua, ally to Cangrande

  ◊ PETRUCHIO BONAVENTURA – Veronese noble, husband to Katerina Minola

  ◊ SHALAKH – Jewish Venetian money-lender, father to Jessica

  THARWAT AL-DHAAMIN – Moorish master astrologer, called the Arūs

  TULLIO D'ISOLA – aged steward, Grand Butler to Cangrande

  VITTORIA BONAVENTURA – daughter of Petruchio and Katerina

  ♦ WILLIAM MONTAGU – English knight, distant relation to the Montecchi

  ♦ ZILIBERTO DELL'ANGELO – Cangrande's Master of the Hunt

  Northern Italy

  The City of Verona

  Piazza dei Signori

  ROMEO

  Father, what news? what is the prince's doom?

  What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand,

  That I yet know not?

  FRIAR LAURENCE

  Too familiar

  Is my dear son with such sour company:

  I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom.

  The Tragedy of Romeo & Juliet

  Act III, Scene Three, lines 4-6

  Prologue

  Verona, Italy

  Saturday, 26 November 1328

  “SHOW ME 'YES'.”

  Dark as an angry sky, the polished marble teardrop twitched, then began to describe a sinister circle.

  “Show me 'no'.” The stone at the end of the chain adroitly changed direction.

  Watching, Elisabetta Contarini gasped and clutched the medal of her namesake, Santa Elizabetta of Portugal. “You're doing that.”

  “No, Madonna. Ask your questions and you will hear the truth.”

  It took a moment to parse the diviner's accent, but she obeyed. “Tell me – will Soranzo survive the year?”

  The question repeated, the chain at the end of the diviner's finger continued in the same direction. No.

  Elisabetta glanced excitedly to her husband, sitting in bored submission. “Will my husband become Doge?”

  Reversing, the teardrop spun leftwards with some force. A resounding Yes.

  Watching from across the room, Francesco Dandolo was annoyed with himself for feeling pleased. Everyone knew he would be the next Doge. At seventy years of age, he had certainly showed patience, enduring many hardships and perjuring his soul to rise to the top of Venice's Signoria. Barring any drastic change in Fortune's wheel, Dandolo would be elected the moment Soranzo released the last bonds of life. Which would happen soon, according to this man.

  But Dandolo refused to be drawn in by such a grotesque mountebank. He had not wanted to admit the man at all, but Zanino had been favourably impressed. As guests in an enemy city, and without invitation to the revels this night, they required amusement. If Elisabetta found the man's trade entrancing, it did not hurt to indulge her, even if it was utter nonsense. Astrology, numerology, palmistry, divination – fashionable pastimes. Doge Soranzo himself put stock in such arts.

  Not that the ailing Doge would appreciate tonight's prediction. While Elisabetta pressed on to more mundane matters – when the next shipment of silk would arrive, the birthdate of their latest grandchild – Dandolo tried to divine the man himself. Perhaps a soldier, crippled on some battlefield. For there had been an injury, a dreadful one. The right shoulder was badly bunched, and there was a crimp in the diviner's left hip that forced him to rely on a heavy crutch. Worst of all was his visage. Whatever his other wounds, the left side of his face had received a devastating blow, causing his eye-socket to collapse inwards. Little wonder he kept his cowl forward. His was a face to turn the stoutest stomach.

  But his voice was strong and clear, if marred by the unintelligible accent of Bergamo. His pendulum answered each question in turn. Wisely, not every answer was satisfying. Nothing makes an audience more suspicious than convenient truths.

  There were clever wrinkles to the business, too. He carried a calendar, letting the pendulum hover over this date or that. Or else a map of Italy, crudely drawn – Naples was in the wrong place. But it allowed him to answer more than simple binary questions.

  After twenty minutes, Elisabetta turned to her husband. “Ask it something!”

  Dandolo smiled thinly. “Why is the sky blue?”

  Elisabetta pouted. “Ask it something only you would know.”

  Loving his wife, he relented. “Did I eat pickled apricots yesterday?”

  The man had a fifty-fifty chance, and guessed correctly. At his wife's urging, Dandolo posed several more queries of no consequence. Each time the answer was true.

  Better lucky than skilled, thought Dandolo. Time to trick the diviner. “Did I meet the Greyhound today?”

  It was well known that he had dined at the Scaligeri palace at noon, wading among the ornate flotsam flooding Verona for this momentous occasion. So when the dark pendulum tugged the chain to describe a negative, Elisabetta sighed in disappointment.

  Dandolo frowned. “Has Venice bestowed its citizenship upon the Greyhound?”

  Again, the answer was no. Elisabetta was distraught. Venice certainly had offered citizenship to Cangrande della Scala, months ago, as everyone knew.

  Not by word or gesture did Dandolo betray his sudden interest. A truth known only to a few was that the man commonly called Il Veltro, the Greyhound, was not the true owner of that mythic title. That honour belonged to his natural child, whom Dandolo had not seen today, and who had not been granted the rare privilege of citizenship.

  Several more questions, pointed now. All the answers were true. Either this crippled hulk was a genius of deception, or his gift was real.

  Dandolo called for wine. “Put your tool down. If we go on, you'll flay the skin from your hand.”

  The man's finger and thumb were indeed raw, and he accepted the cup of mulled wine with surprise. He knew the pendulum had been wrong about those two questions. Yet clearly the Venetian's interest had been piqued.

  Sipping his favoured beverage, Dandolo said, “You have a rare talent. I can see why Zanino insisted you call upon us. Have you always been so blessed?”

  “There are some would call it a curse, my lord.”

  “Of course. In Venice such things are tolerated. But many devout souls see it as witchcraft. Trading with the Devil. Is that how you came by your infirmities?”

  “No, my lord. I took these many years ago, in Padua.”

  “It has been a long war,” offered Dandolo. “You must be pleased to see the seal set on peace.”

  The man shrugged his good shoulder. “Came to ply my trade. This is where the people are.”

  “Where the people are indeed,” said Dandolo after navigating the man's accent. “But you did not answer my question. Have you always been so talented?”

  “No,” admitted the diviner. “It came after my injuries.”

  Dandolo raised his brows. “Compensation,
after a fashion.”

  “Yes, lord.” Clearly uncomfortable, the cripple finished his drink, too quickly to be polite, then set it aside. “It grows late. Are there any last questions you'd like answered?”

  Elisabetta said, “O, you're not leaving? Francesco, you should put him on retainer. Your own spy into the divine.”

  Dandolo paused. There was one question to which he would like an honest answer. How to phrase it? “Tell me this. I have been made an offer by someone here in Verona. My question is twofold. One, is the offer honest?”

  The chain, the teardrop, the question. For the first time, the answer was equivocal, with the pendulum swinging in all directions. The diviner apologized, but Dandolo waved him off. “It was a poor question. Here is a better one. If I accept, will it benefit Venice?”

  The bob on the chain spun leftwards so hard and so fast it might have pulled itself from the diviner's fingers.

  Dandolo's mouth twitched. “Thank you. My mind is quite made up. Zanino will see you paid. One more thing. Should I seek your services again, where shall I find you?”

  “I'm at the Duo Gentes, lord.”

  “And what was your name?”

  “Girolamo of Bergamo, my lord.”

  “Thank you, Girolamo, for a most illuminating evening.”

  As an excited Elisabetta raced to her closet to pen letters to her daughters, Dandolo waited until Zanino returned. How distressing, to see the first streaks of grey in his own son's hair. The only son left to him, regrettably not by his wife. But it is a foolish man who places all hope of posterity in one womb.

  “I hope your guest amused Donna Elisabetta, my lord.”

  “Mightily. Now, as to the other matter. Send word to our Veronese friend – we accept.”

  ♦ ◊ ♦

  London, England

  THE KING TAPPED HIS FOOT in annoyance. “And where is the Earl of March today?”