~

away for just a moment to take care of a little business...

~

The conversation was still going in circles when Don Aldo returned. There was an enigmatic smile on his lips as he sliced some more cheese, and passed small plates laden with cheese to Dieter and Elisabetta. Hugo Dieter mumbled his thanks as he pondered the mans happy demeanor ....

Eliisabetta just smiled and thanked the Professore. What a gentleman he is, she thought .

As he ate the cheese that kept appearing in front of him, Hugo tried to clarify his point of view for the Conte.

I simply meant to say, Signor Conte, that I hope your daughter is well. The sbirri are not to trifled with, even if Cristofoli is a friend of yours.

The Conte smiled, amused. I was using the term friend sardonically, he explained.

I doubt if that man has any friends, added Beatrice.

Don Aldo sighed. To a man with an obsessive purpose in life, friends are only a distraction...until he finds he needs some...and then wonders why he has none....and as long as we are using the term friends in an ironic sense...please rest assured that your friends from the voyage are being shown a particular brand of local hospitality, even as we speak. You need not trouble yourself about them at present.

Ahhh...Professore, said the Conte, so is that what you did when you slipped out for a while...you made arrangements for these rascals to be made prisoners?

Don Aldo shrugged. No...of course not. They are now our guests in a manner of speaking."

Hugo eyes widened in shock at the realization that he was now among people who were quite unafraid to take on the Sbirri...even willing to detain their agents.

You are entertaining these guests? Is this not a dangerous course? asked Hugo.

Don Aldo shrugged again. Life is dangerous. Both for the wolves and the watchdogs of this world. if these fellows are indeed sbirri agents...then this watchdog has just acquired two wolves to be used as two bargaining chips of his own. On the other hand if they are merely contractors...piratical sorts engaged for temporary harassment of you good people...well, then they are neither wolves nor watchdogs. Jackals, perhaps, if I might be permitted to continue using our canine metaphor. So, if they are not true wolves...merely jackals...Neapolitan authorities have ways of entertaining men whom they believe to be pirates. If these men prove to have no value to us for information or trading purposes, then I will simply turn them over to the magistrates on the mainland and have them punished for attempting to rob you people while at sea. I am sure you will not mind signing an affidavit to that effect, no?

Before you do that, Professore, interjected the Conte, "I would be very interested in talking to these guests at some point. I am just wondering if it was merely a coincidence.

Hugo shook his head. No Signor Conte, the more I reflect upon it, these villains knew who we were and where we we going...the comments they made implied we were being watched and manipulated...they were toying with us, I am sure of it. I think it was no coincidence.

The Conte looked at Hugo appraisingly and then turned to the Professore. Unless I am very much mistaken, the common connection still seems to be this Sior Gandt...

Don Aldo looked at the Conte and sighed. Si, Signor Conte...Don Mercurio does appear to be the keystone in this structure. And if these men also know something of Signor Gandt and what his role in this affair may be, then that would be useful for us to know.

"But then what was their purpose in coming along on the ship with us?" asked Beatrice. "They were not able to rob us even if we did have something of value...

No, Signora, answered Don Aldo, if these fellows wanted to take something from you, they would now have it and you...you would not.

For the first time in a while, Elisabetta spoke up, and did so in a clear, confident voice: Perhaps they were trying to frighten us?

The Professore nodded. I suspect their purpose was merely to make you ill at ease...nervous people make mistakes -- they give away information they otherwise would manage to conceal. Yes, I think their primary goal was to make you nervous.

Well, if that is the case, they succeeded admirably, replied Elisabetta. I was indeed frightened.

Don Aldo smiled at her. Then, Signorina, you are to be commended that you all handled it so well and made no mistakes. If you had, I have every confidence you would have met with some kind of accident in the course of your journey.

It genuinely appeared they were playing some kind of game with us, Hugo reflected. They didn't even try to steal anything ..... that we know of."

Maybe they were sent as a warning, suggested the Conte.

Perhaps, agreed Hugo. Cristofoli does know we are here, the 'guests' said so....

This then is the puzzle we are back to, said the Conte, looking at Beatrice. You say you have never met my daughter, only heard of her...that you know Sior Gandt only casually...and of course Cristofoli knows you are here: its his job to know...and he allowed you to leave on the ship....had he wanted to stop you he would have done so.

Elisabetta suddenly looked as though something had just come to her. Dont you have something belonging to Cristofoli, Hugo?

Hugo smiled a bit sadly. Elisabetta, dear one ..... I exchanged what I had for your release. I no longer have anything to offer Cristofoli.

Perhaps he is watching us! said Beatrice, and waits to see who we speak to! Oh dear...

The Conte arched an eyebrow at beatrice. Signora, wherever we are and whoever we are...there is a better than even chance that someone is watching us for one reason or another. Furthermore, Signora, understand me well...if they kept your sister in the piombi, and then let her go, there is a reason for that as well. Yes, it would seem that Don Hugo here made some kind of a deal...and I am sure that he made the best bargain he could, but he succeeded only because it suited Cristofoli to make the deal.

They sat in silence while Don Aldo poured more wine all around, refilling each glass. Finally the Conte spike again, apparently choosing his words very carefully.

Donna Beatrice, you say you came to Venice five years ago from the court of Frederick of Prussia?

She nodded. I was a Duchess...my dead husband a duke...but I am no longer one I fear....things happened...

Could these things have followed you to Venice?

Perhaps...sometimes it feels that way, Signor Conte.

My dear Duchesa, could there be something in your line of work which may have attracted this dangerous attention to you? asked the Conte.

The Duchesa did not respond. The Conte decided it was not the right time to enquire for additional details. There would be plenty of time to pursue this further.

Hugo, on the other hand, now seemed entirely relaxed, thanks in no small part to the Professores persistent but subtle efforts to keep Hugos wineglass consistently filled.

Don Aldo, laughed Hugo, I most sincerely hope that the hospitality you extend to those two rogues is at least the equivalent of what poor Elisabetta was subjected to in the piombi.

Don Aldo smiled. Oh, have no fear...my kindly old associate Don Alphonso will be extremely solicitous of their wants and needs. He will tuck them into bed at night and entertain them with intriguing conversation...who knows? he might even take them fishing.

Hugo Dieter smirked and grinned at Don Aldo. Cheers to you, Signore, I like the way you think."

Beatrice looked vaguely confused, but her sister looked slightly alarmed at the direction the conversation was taking. Conte Foscari tried to give the young woman a reassuring smile, but in truth he was beginning to think it was time to draw the discussion to a close.

As if he was reading the Contes mind, Don Aldo rose from his seat and gave a modest but dignified bow to the assembled group. Ladies and gentlemen...I regret that I must excuse myself again...I have asked that quarters be arranged for you...there will be a large fellow waiting by the villa steps to take you to your lodging. He is Miguel, our blacksmith. He will ensure you arrive safely, just in case there may have been any other unpleasant people concealed among those who traveled with you on your ship.

The Conte also stood. Yes I think we have talked enough for now...you must want to rest and refresh yourselves after you arduous journey.

They all said their goodbyes, and the travelers thanked the Conte and the Professore profusely. Hugo was grinning broadly as he went down the villa steps to meet their escort, a hulking, heavily muscled Spaniard with a cigarro clenched in his mouth, dark somber eyes, and a scowl that could crack walnuts.

****

After the travelers had left. The Conte stood watching from the receiving room window as they went with Miguel down the long walk to the village. He could hear someone approaching him from behind, but did not bother to turn as a dozen small clues had already told him it was Don Aldo.

Well my friend, what do you think? he asked.

Each in their own way, they are people of character. I could see the young one recovering from her experience even as we were sitting here. By the Holy Saints and Angels, I wish I still had that kind of resilience. And the gentleman, I feel, is a good fellow. That took some balls, going in to try to make a deal with the Sbirri to get that girl out...they could just as easily have taken whatever it was that he had to trade, and sent him for an all expense-paid trip to the bottom of the Grand Canal. As for the Duchesa....well...

He shrugged and said no more.

Does the Baronessa von Khr still work as an intelligence agent of the Kingdom of Prussia? asked the Conte.

Yes, I am sure that she does.

For the military or diplomatic service?

With the Prussians, is there a difference?

Conte Foscari laughed. No I suppose not. Could you do me a small favor? would you send a communication to la Baronessa and request that she use her contacts in Prussia to investigate the background of that woman, Duchesa Beatrice?

Certainly. I am sure the good Baronessa will be happy to oblige.

What about the two rogues you took into custody?

Don Alphonso says that in his professional judgement, they are what they seem to be: a couple of hapless lumps who were hired on the wharf in Venezia to go along on the trip and simply frighten and harass Signor Dieter and two women. The assumption would be that once they got here, Don Hugo and the women would then turn to someone for help and protection -- most likely someone associated with you and/or your daughter -- and the Sbirri could learn something from that about who is here and who you are working with. So we may assume there was someone else among the passengers on that ship who is the actual observer...someone who was -- and still is -- laying low and being discrete. Hence we are currently watching everyone who got off the ship...and the ship itself, in case someone is hiding on it.

The Conte smiled. There are advantages to being on an island, arent there? What will you do with the two men, after we get all the information we can from them?

It depends on what I find out about them. If they are serious criminals of some sort, there will be consequences. If they are merely feckless pawns, as they seem to be, we will try to find some way of providing them with false information and arranging for them to escape.

Conte Foscari nodded and turned back to the window. In some ways the arrival of Signor Dieter and the two ladies had reassured him about a number of things...but it had also raised questions...not the least of which was how did Mercury Gandt fit in with all this?

~

~

Rocca Sorrentina, May 1783

~

greeted at the wharf

Conte Fillipe Foscari gazed thoughtfully out the window of the receiving room at the Villa Vesuviana. He had just been informed by Don Aldo Stern that there was a ship which had just recently arrived from Venezia, by way of Sicily, and it carried some passengers that the Conte might be interested in speaking with. The Conte agreed, and had asked that Don Aldo bring the new arrivals to talk with him; he also requested that the Professore remain and take part in the discussion. Don Aldo had gone to find the travelers and to invite them to the Villa for some refreshments and a bit of conversation. Now, Conte Foscari sat waiting, lost in his own thoughts and turning over in his mind what he knew of these people.

Don Aldo had said there was a man and two ladies; one of the ladies seemed to be unwell; the man was a venetian merchant; and one of the women claimed to be a Duchesa.but Don Aldo noted that he had heard her name before, from one of his associates in Venezia that the lady in question had been present at some gambling parties in the company of Mercury Gandt, of all people.

To make things even more interesting, the travelers had sent to Don Aldo a letter of introduction that Signor Gandt had written on their behalf.

Yes, this all was very interesting.

Presently, Don Aldo appeared at the door to the receiving room with a well-tanned and earnest-looking gentleman, a young lady who indeed, did not appear to be at all well, and a third woman who carried about her a veneer of some sophistication, but a rather thin veneer at best. She had a well-made gown, but very causally-dressed hair, and the air of someone whose life was more than likely characterized by a certain degree of uncertainty.

The man bowed. How do you do Signor Conte, it's a pleasure to meet you.

The Conte nodded in response and added, Professore, pray, introduce us.

Signor Conte, may I present Signor Hugo Dieter, lately arrived on the brig Annabella from Venezia.Signor Dieter, this is the Conte Fillipe Foscari

Hugo bowed again and then introduced the Duchesa Beatrice and her sister, Signorina Elisabetta. After the exchange of some pleasantries about the weather and the trip, Don Aldo had some cheese, bread and wine brought in. Elisabetta seemed entranced as she gazed around.

How pleasant near the windowand what a view! she commented softly.

Yes, this is a lovely island, added Hugo. Don Aldo and I were just discussing that outside.

The Conte nodded. Oh there is a wonderfully calm atmosphere here.

Indeed, that is a great part of the island's appeal, said the Professore. That and its distance away from unpleasant people.

Hugo coughed a bit at the mention of unpleasant people and shifted somewhat uneasily in his chair.

After a pause, the Conte went on. So....I gather your experiences of late have been rathershall we sayeventful"?

Elisabetta responded emphatically, oh yes!

The Conte was struck by how the question seemed to have given new life to the tired and ill-looking girl.

May I enquire as to the details of what happened? he asked.

Hugo, You tell! interjected the Duchesa. The she added admiringly, Hugo was so brave!

Hugo replied a bit nervously, Are you certain Beatrice? I will do my best to tell the whole tale.

We will add to it if necessary, answered Beatrice.

Conte Fillipe Foscari listened intently as Hugo Dieter sat up a bit straighter and began.

The Duchesa Beatrice alerted me to the fact that her sister was being held captive, in a prison in Veneziaquite unjustly, I should add..

Aldo Stern arched an eyebrow ever so slightly at this information, while Elisabetta let out an apparently involuntary sigh.

Held captive? asked the Conte. My dear....how awful.

Well, jailed on trumped up charges, explained Elisabetta. It was horrible. You can't imagine!

Under such circumstances, we three here are a bit....shall we say, looking for safe haven and refuge, added Hugo.

Yes off course, replied the Conte, you must rest and recuperate Sorrentina is the perfect place to do that nothing ever happens here.

Thank you, said Hugo. We were given hope that it would be such a place for usa friend and resident of this island -- Mercury Gandt -- suggested we come here.

Ah, that is interesting, the Professore commented quietly. As a matter of fact, while you were still struggling to get your baggage extricated from the hold of the Annabella, I was given a letter from Signor Gandt, a letter which he provided to introduce you to us.

Don Aldo then noted the young lady was gazing rather intently at the large cheese on the table, but she seemed a bit shy about helping herself. He quietly rose to cut off a slice or two, put it on a small plate and offered it to her. She accepted it and thanked him. He then proceeded to pour out glasses of wine for the travelers and handed them around.

Are you a native of Venezia? asked the Conte.

Umno, replied Elisabetta. my sister and I are exiles, and moved to Venice to make our way>

Where are you from originally? the Conte casually enquired.

Umm.. the north, Elisabetta responded vaguely. The Conte smiled and did not press the point, but he did not need to. After glancing at her sister, Elisabetta went on. We lived in the Court of Frederick the Great in Prussia.

Our days spent at Sans souci were wonderful, added Beatrice.

Conte Foscari nodded. Ahh yes, Frederick...an interesting man...and Sans Souci, a wonderful place. He looked thoughtful for a moment and then he questioned the girl further, And you had been in Venezia for how long when they arrested you ?

Oh, about five years.

So it was the Sbirri who arrested you?

Yes.

Hugo grumbled and twisted uncomfortably in his seat at the mention of the Sbirri.

As there were no real charges against you, Signorina, do you have any idea why they elected to take you into custody? asked Don Aldo.

Elisabetta frowned. We think they arrested me purely to use me as a bargaining chipapparently to help them in finding your daughter, Signor Conte.

If the Conte was surprised or distressed by this news, he gave no indication of it. He continued his questioning with a very business-like, almost disinterested air. You had no notion or warning of this arrestand once you were in custody, no legitimate reasons for it?

None whatsoever. I gather this is very common. They put a bag over my head, would you believe? And then dragged me to the piombiwhere was kept in a cell and fed nothing but bread and water for days

The Conte pressed the point. Why do you think they wanted to use you as a bargaining chip?

Elisabetta sighed and then began her explanation. From what they asked me, form things I overheard...they want to find your daughter, Signore, and thought that my sister would tell Mercury who would then contact you ... oh I dont understandit is all so strangeperhaps Beatrice understands this better, she concluded rather helplessly.

Conte Foscari looked at the Duchesa and smiled.

Can you, in fact, explain this more fully, Donna Beatrice? he asked.

Yes, but only a little, the "Duchesa" replied.

Sowhat has my daughter got to do with this? And how are you connected with my daughter?

Beatrice seemed hesitant.

With all due respect dear Conte, interjected Hugo, they want your daughter. In fact they seem to want very, very badly to take your daughter into custody. The reasons are still unclear to me... but she seems to have made enemies of the Sbirri in Venezia.

Beatrice nodded in agreement. They had been following your daughterand then they lost track of her, so then they thought that Signor Gandt might know of her whereaboutsand they were using Elisabetta to get to him through me, to get information about your daughterthey said they would let my sister go if I helped them to get what they wantedwhich was to get Mercury to tell them her location

As her voice trailed off, the Conte Foscari looked at the Professore, who shrugged slightly, adding the observation, Typically byzantine approach to what should be a simple problem for them, isnt it?

The tiniest of smirks passed across the Contes lips. Then he turned back to Beatrice. Please tell me more about this Signor Gandt.

The Duchesa coughed. She did not seem to know where to start.

The Conte frowned slightly, but then offered helpfully, This is the young Englishman who travelled with her to Venezia, no?

And it is the same gentleman who has maintained a residence on this island for sometimeand provided the letter of introduction for these good people.

And you are a friend of this Sior Gandt? asked the Conte.

I have met him, she replied. and I know he was trying to find your daughterafter she disappeared into a convent and never came out again.

But you do not know him well, I take it?

Beatrice shook her head. NoI live in Venice; he is from here.

Don Aldo noted that upon hearing this answer, Hugo Dieter had shot a quick glance at over at Beatrice, betraying what might have been a bit of surprise at her statement.

It would seem that a great many people are trying to find my daughter. the Conte remarked drily.

Yes, agreed Beatrice. As for the Sbirri, they seem to feel that she is a way to get to you and some organization you belong to.

Again the Conte gave no indication of any surprise at this revelation. Oh? Did they make some mention also of myself?

The Profesore frowned slightly. And how did you become aware of that information Signora Duchesa?

Oh- the odd rumour, she answered vaguely. You know...after all...I know many people through my profession...

The conte now looked a bit curious. And your profession is?

Beatrice's face took on a slight air of defiance and her reply was clear and direct. I am a courtesan, Signore; I know many fine gentlemen in powerI hear things on the pillow, so to speak

In spite of himself and the seriousness fo the situation, Hugo smiled a little at hearing all this .... old fond memories began to run in his head. But now that Beatrice had given her explanation she seemed to be at a loss for words. She simply sat, looking down at her hands.

To her surprise, the Conte smiled in a sympathetic sort of way. We all have to survive, Signora.

Then he turned to Elisabetta. Signorina, I am very sorry that you suffered in this unfortunate way because of my family; I shall endeavor to make it up to you in some way.

It was not your fault Signor Conte, she replied softly. There is no need

How long did they keep you at the Piombi?

For well over a month - the days seemed like years. And the cold ate into my bones.

The Conte nodded. I understandthat is the nature of such placesbut now you must rest and get your strength back I am sure that we will have the colour back in your cheeks by the end of the week.

Hugo coughed, and after a moment, broke the silence in order to bring up a new issue that was preying on his mind. Ah, Signor Conte, Don Aldo if I may, I feel I should mention something else that may be of concernwith relation to the Sbirri wanting to find your daughterand to have some leverage over youduring our trip here, there were also two ruffians who sailed on the ship from Venezia as wellthey seemed to know who we werethey showed strange interest in us, and asked odd thingsmade odd comments

Do you think they were Sbirri agents? Don Aldo asked bluntly.

I cannot say for sure," repleid Hugo, "but they were most certainly not your usual sort of people who take passage

The Professore leaned over and spoke quietly to Hugo. These fellows on the ship with you...was one with short hair, and a green sailor's roundabout...and another with long unkempt hair and a red waistcoat?

Hugo looked at Don Aldo in surprise. Why....Yes ! Yes, that was them! And yes, I do feel they were sbirri agents .... I'm not sure how much to say in front of the ladies here, so as to not worry them."

Don Aldo nodded. I thought so. Yes, probably agents of the Sbirrior at least in their employ ...private contractors as it were. Cristofoli mostly likely wouldnt risk any of his own men in such a pointless fashiondont you agree, Signor Conte?

No, you are quite right right, Professore, agreed the Conte. "My old friend Don Christoforo is very careful with his human resources.

Hugo was trying to keep track of things and was not doing a very good job of it. This was all becoming very confusing. He thought he had heard the Conte just say he was friends with Cristofoli, the head of the Sbirri secret police in Venezia, but that couldn't be right. Meanwhile, the Conte and Beatrice had moved on to going back and forth about how well Mercury actually knew the Contes daughter, and then there was another undercurrent about how well Beatrice actually knew Mercury...and Hugo could tell that Beatrice was not being entirely honest with the Conte. Meanwhile, Elisabetta was sitting there next to him, seemingly oblivious to all that was going on, happily eating cheese and licking her fingertips, and gazing around at the very nice murals that were painted on the walls

...and suddenly Hugo became aware that the Professore had quietly risen from his seat and left the room.

~

thank you to Aphrodite Macbain for the images

As a rule, Mercury Gandt generally tried to avoid places like the one he was now entering. Heavy stone walls, an almost total lack of ornamentation, a sense of weight that settled upon you as soon as you passed through the iron-bound doors. It was evidently designed not only to keep people out, the structure was built to keep people in. Mercury would not have chosen to visit such a place...except, he had received a message to come. It had been written in the form of an invitation, but he thoroughly understood that he had no options in the matter.

He was led through grim hallways to a staircase that descended into a lower level, to an office that felt more like a tomb than a place to do ones work. As he entered the space he had been directed to, he found himself looking into the piercing eyes of a man whose every pore seemed to ooze unpleasantness, distrust...and control.

The man greeted him simply, Signore.

The man did not bother to rise. There was no hint of a bow, not even the slightest nod or tilt of the head.

Mercury replied very directly in return.

Signore... I received a message, by which, if I understand correctly, you have summoned me... my name is Gandt...

Yes, yes, I know, the man answered with almost a hint of impatience. I am gratified you could join me for a little conversation. Please seat yourself.

Mercury found himself slightly annoyed as he realized that involuntarily, out of habit, he had bowed to the man before taking the chair that faced the mans cheaply-made desk. The man sat in his chair behind the desk, and after staring at Mercury for a few moments as if deciding on a strategy, he asked a question that on the surface seemed polite, even friendly...but there was nothing of politeness or friendliness in the mans eyes.

You have been enjoying your stay in Venezia?"

Mercury was feeling a distinct sense of discomfort, but he decided he would play the game.

Yes, I am, Signore, he answered, though I wouldn't call my stay here a very lucky one, as I trust you undoubtedly already know.

The mans face finally lost some of its stony aspect as he smirked a bit.

Yes, of course. And as you can guess, I really do not care if you are enjoying yourself or not. It was merely an attempt at something representing friendly interaction before we get to business. He sighed in a slightly theatrical sort of way. I am told that I need to be more ..um...approachable.

Mercury smiled in return at what he supposed was meant to pass as humor. He also hoped that his smile might somewhat conceal the extent to which he already despised and loathed this fellow, who hadnt even yet bothered to introduce himself.

It almost seemed as if the man could read Mercury's mind as he continued.

Ah, and my manners need work as well. My name is Rinaldi....Arrigo Rinaldi. I am a close subordinate of Don Cristoforo....and I have asked you here for a very specific reason."

I imagine you have received my offer through Madamma Beatrice, Mercury began to reply, but he was cut off before he could finish.

Yes, answered Rinaldi, shrugging. It is of...some interest to us...although you would perhaps be surprised how many people approach us every day with some kind of... offer. Of these many propositions, only a few are actually worthy of our attention."

Mercury crossed his legs and shifted his weight trying to get a little more comfortable in the chair before he replied.

In my case, said Mercury, I have been friendly with the Contessa Foscari for the past few months, and having called upon her regularly here in Venezia, I am somewhat familiar with the circumstances and activities of the Foscaris...

Rinaldi nodded. Yes, we know...and that, as I said, is of some interest to us...

His face suddenly turned into a mask of deadly seriousness.

Are you aware of the Foscaris having any involvement with the Freemasons? he asked.

Mercury was a bit dumbstruck. He really hadnt expected expected a question like this so early in the discussion.

"Of course not. How could I?"

Rinaldi frowned and began to speak in a soft, yet slightly menacing way.

You have, as you said, some access to the household of that family. We know that the Conte Foscari is a member of some subversive secret group...perhaps the Freemasons, perhaps something much worse. But Don Cristoforo, he does not like those who keep secrets...after all, when one is hiding something..it is usually for a reason, no?

As Rinaldi spoke, Mercury noted that his voice was calm, but his fist was clenched...the knuckles actually going white.

Mercury looked back at the man for a second and then shook his head.

Rinaldi looked thoughtful for a moment and went on. Very well. I ask only in hope that we can save ourselves some work...do you know where the Conte is at present?

Again Mercury shook his head. "Actually I never met the Conte... it was my intention to do so, when I came to Venezia, but he had left the city before we arrived. I only met the senior Conte, sua eccelenza Francesco Foscari... and of course, the Contessa's household"

Rinaldi nodded, but Mercury could tell that he was not telling this man anything he did not already know.

And the Contessa, do you know where she is? asked Rinaldi.

Mercury sighed heavily. No... I assure you, I would gladly share this information with you if I could"

She has ...not been a good friend to you has she? Rinaldi commented drily.

Mercury paused for a moment, wondering exactly what this man and his associates knew and what they didn't. Finally, he responded, "It's my concern, Signore, to judge my friends. Sadly, the Contessa doesn't seem to be among them."

"Yes, I understand, replied Rinaldi. And if you will forgive me for commenting anyway, I can tell you this is not surprising. People of her class are accustomed to only thinking about their own needs and desires. They do not think of those around them, and their selfishness extends to their disregard for the well-being of the Republic.

Mercury was surprised at the edge of anger that had crept into the mans voice, but he said nothing as Rinaldi continued.

But...it is clear that even though you would give us her location if you could...at present you cannot do so?"

No, I'm very sorry, Signore, I can't, answered Mercury, with just a hint of dejection in his tone.

Arrigo Rinaldi coughed, and sat looking at Mercury for what seemed like an eternity to the Englishman. Mercury had a sense that the man was deciding how to proceed.

Finally the man behind desk seemed to have made up his mind.

Very well...

After another pause, Rinaldi spoke again, but his tone changed. becoming friendlier...almost jocular. "Have you ever watched children playing with dominoes?"

He had once again managed to catch Mercury by surprise. What a curious question, Signore...no, I haven't, answered the Englishman.

Rinaldi waved his hand in the air as he started his explanation, like a professor giving a lecture to a befuddled student. Well, you see, not knowing the rules for playing a proper game of dominoes, children simply set them up on end and push them over. If they line them up carefully and then push one, it knocks down another, then the next, then the next...

He looked at Mercury inquiringly to see if the inglese was comprehending this at all, before he went on.

The reason why we hoped to find the Contessa was to get to the Conte...if we can't knock down that domino, we must get the next one in line...and that most probably would be the Contessa's serving woman...do you know her? a sciattona called Devi?

Mercury was seeing where this was going. Yes, I met Devi at the Contessas palazzo - an unkind, suspicious creature - I would never trust her for a minute."

Ah then, if that is the case, replied Rinaldi, you will have no regrets about seeing if you can get information regarding her whereabouts...so that we can take her into custody and extract information from her about the contessa...so that we then will be able to get hold of her, which in turn will give us the means by which we will be able to have influence over the conte...and induce him to give us information about his associates and their subversive activities...and then everyone will be happy.

As he concluded this explanation, Rinaldi smiled in a way that was not at all attractive.

Mercury shrugged. Very well, I don't care whatever you do to her...but how can I help you to catch her? I don't know her whereabouts either - perhaps they are together somewhere in Italy, in one of the duchies of Italy - the Contessa has many royal friends among the Italian duchesses."

Well, my friend...that is up to you, answered Rinaldi, once again with a touch of impatience in his voice. Look here, you offered to help us accomplish our goals...you are an adaptable fellow...the likes of you would not still be alive if you werent...but if any of the people we want from the Foscari household is going to be here in the city, it will most likely be the servant woman. She is the logical target to be looking for, and we need to know when and where we can find her...so we need that information, and you should be able to find an opportunity to discover what we need to know. How you find a way to do that...if you can...I leave that up to your inventiveness...

Mercury sighed as he thought about Devi. "Very well, I have some ideas where to go to find her if she's in town.

Rinaldi nodded and began to spin a coin on his desk top as he continued, You have been to visit the old conte and his appallingly common wife, yes?

Ah, yes, said Mercury, smirking. I hoped he would tell me where the Contessa was."

Rinaldi shrugged. Not a bad idea...but if anyone in that household knew her location and circumstances, that greedy wretch Saturnine would have already sold us the information. He paused a moment and then went on. Perhaps you can use your connections there more productively than he has...you are better looking and younger than that decaying goat. Perhaps you can seduce the conte's wife, or something dreary like that... He grinned maliciously, Go...be inventive...if you have some fun along the way, we won't mind.

Mercury could not conceal the extent to which he found the suggestion distasteful, though not because of the lack of ethics inherent in the concept.

"Signore... please...I have no desire to end up dead, with a bullet through the heart, shot by the old Conte if he finds out I have dallied with his wife...you see, I'm not very successful in those kinds of endeavors. And honestly. If I were, I would know already where the Contessa Foscari is," he said in a voice tinged with more than a little regret and disappointment.

Rinaldi sighed again. Well, as long as we are playing at being honest here, I might as well admit that we really don't expect you to be able to find the Contessa's location....the members of that family have eluded far more experienced operatives than you clearly are...but would you like to know the real reason you have been invited here to talk to me?

You already told me - to catch Devi, or not? asked Mercury, just a bit perplexed.

The man behind the desk chuckled. Ha, if you do, that will makes us happy...and you'll get the appropriate thirty pieces of silver for it...but no...Devi is not why we are really interested in you, Signore.

The Englishman now realized that Rinaldi was toying with him, and was in fact enjoying the experience way too much for Mercurys tastes. He adjusted his coat cuffs, pretending he was getting bored with these games.

Rinaldi watched him for a moment and then decided it was time to lay the cards on the table.

No, Signor Gandt, our true interests in you are not related to that Devi creature, or the Contessa, or even the Conte. The simple fact is that we know that you have become involved with a certain French lady...and while in a general sense, this is no great accomplishment...after all, the French are a debauched and unprincipled people..especially among their upper classes...but this particular lady...she has some significant ..um...shall we say... connections ?"

Mercury Gandt looked up in genuine surprise and horror. "You can't mean it. Are you watching my apartment?" He felt his anger rising for the first time since he entered this godforsaken pile of stone. "How dare you...what, do you go about peeking into peoples bedrooms?"

Rinaldi laughed. Oh come now, Signore... The way he said the word carried an inflection that clearly indicated he didn't think Mercury deserved the title. You must keep in mind, this is Venezia. Everyone is watching each other here in Venezia...

"And so what? Mercury asked sarcastically, I assume you don't want to arrest me because of a night with a lady? Why is it your concern?"

Rinaldi shook his head. Of course not. If we did that, half the city would be locked up....probably more than half, actually. No, this is not about censuring you for anything. This is about fostering a situation which ultimately could be mutually beneficial for all those involved.

Mercury said nothing...he tried to compose himself so that he would give away no further information about the matter of the lady. The man behind the desk watched the englishman get control of himself, and then went on in a maddeningly matter-of-fact tone.

Signor Gandt, really...as a man who has experienced such limited success in your other enterprises...your gambling...your other attempts at relationships with the ladies...you should be proud to have succeeded at last in such an affair of the heart...this is something to take pride in....making an accommodation with a lady of that rank and ...beauty. And just as it is an accomplishment...it is also an opportunity.

Mercury found himself listening with interest, in spite of the outrageous nature of the mans words.

The corners of Rinaldis mouth snaked upwards, forming a nasty little smile. He could tell he had the attention of the inglese . So...here is what we want...really...when it is time to go with this lady back to France...as we trust you will, so long as you don't somehow manage to piss away this opportunity like you have most other things in your life...we want you to keep your eyes and ears open...

Mercury Gandt wanted to make sure he absolutely understood what was being asked of him. You mean, I should leave Venezia and go with her to France? Why?

Because if you go with her, Rinaldi answered calmly, you will be close to the French court...to important families and personages...but because of your relative lack of position and importance, you can be like the proverbial fly on the wall. Look, surely you understand that the French have no love for the Serene Republic, and would be thrilled to take away what remains of our commercial prominence...we have long been competition for them...and why do you think we Venetian so dislike Frenchmen? Just because of their terrible taste in music and awful cooking? No, they would bring an end to us if they could...and if you are in a situation where you might get useful intelligence for us...indications of what the Goddamn French might be up to....we could help you cover some of your expenses...

Mercury held up his hand to stop the man for a minute. Wait... so you mean, I would be a spy for Venezia in France? Am I correct it's not really Madame de...the lady in question, who you are interested in, right? Do you think and imply that I have a chance to meet higher persons than her though this affair?

Rinaldi sighed. Do not be such a tiresome fellow, Signor Gandt...no, we have no interest in her..she is merely your ticket into the places where you might overhear something useful...

He paused for effect, looked Mercury square in the eye, and then went on, speaking in a low and decidedly menacing voice. Of course...if you refuse to be of help to us in this matter, then the lady does become of interest to us...and the information we have about her activities...with you...might become something that we would find advantageous to share with someone else...others who might not be happy to know that she has taken up with a common and impecunious young englishman...a failed gambler, a mediocre swordsman...I should guess that your chances for survival would be close to nil, should we find it necessary to take our goods to market, as it were.

To his credit, Mercury Gandt blushed with shame as he reflected upon the nature of the mess he had gotten into, and that to come out of it in one piece, he would need to use the vicomtesse as he had been used by others. He did not like the idea of having to betray her trust, but he struggled with the reality he faced, balancing the grim facts against what remained of his better nature and the shreds of ideals that still fluttered somewhere, buried away deep inside him.

Then he came to terms with the situation. Not only was taking Rinaldis offer necessary in order to protect himself -- and the lady too, for that matter -- but it also had the potential to turn out to be a very good bargain. Yes...a very tempting bargain, even though it was a bargain dressed up in threats...very serious threats to the Vicomtesse's reputation.

Mercury realized he knew what he had to do. He was a gambler, after all: he understood very well how life worked. You did the best you could with the cards you were dealt. After a moment, he smiled pleasantly at Rinaldi.

How much do you offer?

Arrigo Rinadli smiled back at Mercury and then took a piece of paper from his desk drawer and slid it across the desk to the Englishman.

Will that be a sufficient amount to begin with? he asked.

Mercury looked at the numbers on the piece of paper for a very long minute. After a pause he said, "I have debts to be settled here in Italy before I leave for France. I would like help in that matter, as well.

The other man nodded, his expression a remarkably convincing imitation of genuine sympathy. I am sure we can make an arrangement, so long as you are truly committed to this service on behalf of the Republic. Just send me a note about what you are needing, and I will discuss it with my superior. But you know, he added, his eyes twinkling slyly, if there is more invested, as a result, we shall have much greater expectations that you will provide useful information.

Mercury did not flinch. He was all in. Grazie, Signore Rinaldi. Oh and on second thought, I need also time in Italy before I depart. I would like to look after my Rocca Sorrentina debts personally. And of course...I need a few more days In Venezia, if I am to see if can discover anything for you about Devi.

Rinadli looked pleased. Ah, certainly....quite alright. We understand. Do what you must. We think of this as the beginning of a long-term working relationship...and if you can help us to get that Devi woman...there will be some flexibility in our expectations. Don Cristoforo is not an unreasonable man.

Mercury was about to say something about being glad to be of service to the Republic and the Doge, but Rinaldi cut him off before he got more than a few words out.

I believe now, you have other appointments to keep? he asked abruptly.

Mercury Gandt understood and rose to his feet.

Please feel free to show yourself out, said Rinaldi.

Send me a note if you have further instructions," replied Mercury.

Oh we will...we will, responded Renaldi. Arrividerci, Signor Gandt.

Without further comment, Mercury wished the man good day, and then proceeded back up the worn stones of the stairway, and out of the dim corridors into the cleansing light of day.

*****************************************

He stood in the bright sunshine, thinking, letting his eyes adjust before setting off again. As he crossed the street to head towards home, he did not notice two figures who were sitting in the shade by the entrance to a nearby church.

Hey, look, said one, isnt that Don Mercurio over there?

His companion pushed back his tricorn and peered at the figure who was disappearing towards the Grand Canal.

Yes. It most certainly is... he replied.

Should we go catch up with him and say hello? the first inquired.

His friend put a hand on his arm to restrain him. No...I dont think so...did you see where he was just coming out of?

No...not really...why?

Over there...you know what that is? Thats sbirri headquarters...you dont go in there unless you have a reason to do so, and you dont come out through the front door like that unless...

Cristo Santo! what do you think this means?

It doesnt mean anything good, that Im sure of. And dont use such language. You were taught better than that. Now come on, lets go. There is someone we need to talk to.

It's one of those very quiet nights...snatches of songs and guitar music float from Achille Giglio's tavern by the waterfront. Signor Gatto is singing a song of his own, serenading some lady cat somewhere in the upper part of the village...declaring his undying affection for her...

...and out in the old harbor, there is the gentle creaking of anchor cables and soft slapping of small waves against hull planks...and a shape appears from around the headland...

Under the brilliant moonlight, the shape becomes clear. She drops anchor just off the old harbor. A whispered question is heard on the docks..."What ship is that?"

The regulars at the taverna say she is His Majesty's armed brig, the Merope ....no one asks, but all wonder, "is it just coincidence that she anchored off la Rocca Sorrentina on this particular night?

Had anyone been foolish enough to ask such a question out loud, Don Alphonse, the old assistente custode at the Accademia, would have scowled and hissed, "don't be such an idiot, there are no coincidences in this sorry excuse for a world..."

In the morning, she is still there...rolling gently, peacefully at anchor off the old harbor. The sailors on the other ships go about their work while watching her, but without looking like they are watching her...

Dusk comes...and nothing seems to have changed. "Will they never leave?" some young sailor asks. The youth draws in a sharp breath as Don Alphonse slaps him on the back of his head with the palm of his hand, like someone chiding a naughty pup.

"Idiot. Of course they will leave...eventually. In the meantime, practice patience...think of this as a character-building experience.

The young man is about to say something back to Don Alphonse, and then thinks the better of it. His friend next to him is grinning at him. "You're learning," he says softly, not wanting to attract the attention of the assistente custode....

"She's setting sail," one of the old sailors standing by the door says in an offhand manner...sure enough, the crew of the Merope have brought up her anchors and soon, under jib, topsails and driver, begin tacking out into the Bay of Naples...

No one rushes to get back to business...there is time...and it could be a ruse.

***************

The part of the Neapolitan Royal Navy armed brig Merope is played in this little drama by a heavily modified Drakkenwerks "Liberty" class brig, designed by Razi Soyinka. I spent the last few days doing alterations onher, adding some authentic 1780s details and reducing the prims by about 25%. Razi's ships are great SL combat sailing ships as they come off the shelf, but they also make super platforms for modification projects. In addition to the Merope, the three-masted merchant ship in the final picture started life as one of Razi's ships. The Beatrice was made by extensive remodeling of a Drakkenwerks "Alliance" class frigate.

A number of our friends were not able to join in the discussion this Saturday due to the big snowstorm in the NE knocking out their power and internet. Consequently, I am posting a cleaned up version of the transcript. Thank you to all who joined us and all who were interested.

09:37] Aldo Stern: well as for the question of how we found Lady Miller's book and decided to have a talk about it -- that's a good place to start our discussion today
[09:37] Gloriana Maertens: I loved the NCs, by the way, reading them was a fun way to spend the morning.
[09:37] Aldo Stern: I just happened to see a reference to lady Miller's book in some other online articles
[09:37] Aldo Stern: and found there the only e-book version was the scan that had never been edited
[09:38] Aldo Stern: so I took the part that had to do with the part of Italy that our sim is connected with
[09:38] Aldo Stern: we are after all, technically a part of the Kingdom of Naples here
[09:38] Aldo Stern: so I took the most interesting section related to the time she spent getting to and staying in Naples
[09:39] Aldo Stern: may I ask if you enjoyed it?
[09:39] Aldo Stern: it sounds like Gloriana did...thank you
[09:39] Vulpine Eldrich: it's an enjoyment I look forward to, sadly I did little more than read enough to see what it was. I'm here to do more listening than chatting
[09:40] Aldo Stern: we're glad to have you here, Vulpine -- listening OR chatting
[09:40] Aldo Stern: or a bit of both
[09:40] Vulpine Eldrich: as always
[09:41] Gloriana Maertens: I was very amused by the attention paid to the lack of observing precedence and etiquette
[09:41] Aldo Stern: hah yes!
[09:41] Vulpine Eldrich: which makes rp here a bit more likely for those of us not acquainted with 18th century etiquette anyway
[09:42] Aldo Stern: I don't know if the King and Queen of Naples were like that all the time...I assume there may have been some other ceremonial situations that were more formal
[09:42] Aldo Stern: but as for their fetes and dinners and opera evenings
[09:42] Aldo Stern: it certainly sounds like they were pretty easy going
[09:43] Gloriana Maertens: ...but there still was attention paid, for all of that. Her notes wrt standing with a drink in her hand, and the Queen's attention thereby to put her at ease.
[09:43] Aldo Stern: and yes, Vulpine, we always tell people that they shouldn't expect too much formality here
[09:43] MariaLouisa Muircastle: Thank goodness for that
[09:43] Aldo Stern: as even in Naples, the King and Queen aren't too crazy about it
[09:43] Vulpine Eldrich: so how and where were these letters published?
[09:43] Aldo Stern: lady Miller wrote them to a friend while she was traveling in 1770-71
[09:43] Aldo Stern: another English lady who lived in France
[09:44] Aldo Stern: she had them published as a book in 1776
[09:44] Aldo Stern: with certain details removed
[09:44] Aldo Stern: like names of people who might not have wanted to be talked about in a public way
[09:45] Aldo Stern: the book was published in London and apparently sold rather well
[09:45] Vulpine Eldrich: the names have been changed to protect the innocent....
[09:45] Aldo Stern: I was telling the folks before you got here, if you want to see a e-book that was scanned from an original
[09:45] Aldo Stern: there is a link in one of the books on the sidetable over under the Minerva painting
[09:46] Aldo Stern: so besides the lack of formal etiquette and courtly rules...
[09:46] Aldo Stern: were there other things that struck any of you as particularly interesting in the excerpts?
[09:47] Vulpine Eldrich: the main thing that catches my attention is that a woman author can have a moderately good following as a writer at this time and place
[09:47] Aldo Stern: yes
[09:47] Aldo Stern: she also had a literary salon of her own at her home in Britain
[09:48] Aldo Stern: though a number of people thought she was a bit pretentious
[09:48] Mercury Gandt: You can't mean it, Aldo
[09:48] Aldo Stern: perhaps overreaching her station
[09:48] Aphrodite Macbain: normal
[09:48] Aldo Stern: but that was from people like Horace Walpole and he was snotty about everyone and everything
[09:48] Aphrodite Macbain: 'twas ever thus
[09:48] Gloriana Maertens chuckles
[09:49] MariaLouisa Muircastle:
[09:49] Aldo Stern: Horace Walpole was actually pretty much a jerk
[09:49] Aldo Stern: but the other people who had disdianful things to say about Lady Miller..well it may have been jealousy
[09:49] Aldo Stern: good question Aph
[09:50] Aphrodite Macbain: strong women are often the target of fools
[09:50] Mercury Gandt says nothing so far about Lady Miller, but prepares to sharpen his rapier-like wit against her
[09:50] Aphrodite Macbain: laughs
[09:50] Aphrodite Macbain: then I'll pull out my hat pin
[09:50] Aldo Stern: in an odd way it's kind of like the way that people are so critical of King Ferdinand
[09:50] Gloriana Maertens: Was it that she was a writer herself that people found objectionable? Or that she was so public about it - the salon and so forth?
[09:50] Aphrodite Macbain: how?
[09:51] Aphrodite Macbain: there were women writers in her day
[09:51] Aldo Stern: I'm not sure Gloriana, but yes, it was probably that it was very public
[09:51] Aldo Stern: and she was well known
[09:51] Gloriana Maertens: "Not befitting the modesty more suitable for a woman" and such like, I'm sure. ^.^
[09:52] Aldo Stern: a lot of the criticism was about her appearance..which indicates to me that it was just people being spiteful
[09:52] Aldo Stern: but back to my point about King Ferdinand
[09:52] Aldo Stern: here is a guy who is called the "Re lazzarone"
[09:52] Aldo Stern: the beggar or rascal king
[09:52] Aldo Stern: because he hangs around with the common people
[09:52] Aldo Stern: and speaks their dialect
[09:53] Aldo Stern: and is very informal
[09:53] Mercury Gandt: I didn't know that, interesting
[09:53] Aldo Stern: and not well educated
[09:53] Aldo Stern: ...so he is called by some a terrible king
[09:54] Aldo Stern: but it's interesting to me that he managed to rule for 50 years and when the French came and drove him out of Naples it was the common people who rose up and fought on his behalf to get Naples back for him
[09:55] Aldo Stern: So he is criticized as a lout and a lunkhead....but I ask you, was it jealusy? was it just that people thought he didn't act like a King should? I would argue ...a King who is loved by the common people so they would fight for him -- sounds to me like he was doing pretty well
[09:55] Aldo Stern: certainly beats the heck out of Louis the XVI on that front
[09:55] Aphrodite Macbain: was he Italian? from Naples?
[09:55] Aldo Stern: he was a Spanish Bourbon but he was born in Naples, I think
[09:56] Aldo Stern: just checked
[09:56] Aldo Stern: yes he was born in Naples
[09:56] Aphrodite Macbain: So he wasn't really a Neapolitan, but managed to integrate himself into them?
[09:56] Aldo Stern: yes -- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ferdinand_I_of_the_Two_Sicilies#Childhood
[09:57] Aphrodite Macbain: 50 years is a long time to rule
[09:57] Aldo Stern: and the Queen Maria Carolina, was of course Austrian
[09:57] Aldo Stern: their chief minister for many years was of English descent
[09:58] Aphrodite Macbain: Interesting that they kicked out the Jesuits
[09:58] Aldo Stern: and you may have noticed when Lady Miller was talking about the people she met
[09:58] Aldo Stern: they were from many different places
[09:58] Vulpine Eldrich: significant, particularly at that time
[09:58] Gloriana Maertens nods. i did note that.
[09:58] Aphrodite Macbain: Naples was a melting pot
[09:58] Aldo Stern: yes
[09:58] Aldo Stern: like our island
[09:58] Aphrodite Macbain:
[09:58] Aldo Stern: and the English in particular were very popular
[09:59] Aphrodite Macbain: I wonder why
[09:59] Aldo Stern: I don't think I included it in the notes, but Lady Miller said she thought the Neapolitans liked English people better than English people liked themselves
[09:59] Aldo Stern: But as far as why the Neapolitans liked the English so much --- well that's a good question
[10:00] Aldo Stern: why do you think they may have liked the English so much, Aph?
[10:00] Aphrodite Macbain: lol
[10:00] Aphrodite Macbain: because they were so different?
[10:00] Aldo Stern: how so?
[10:00] Aphrodite Macbain: because they offered an alternate culture - more organized perhaps, more democratic
[10:01] Aphrodite Macbain: I am only guessing
[10:01] Mercury Gandt: (smiles) My guess is, they had spent a fortune on their travels
[10:01] Aphrodite Macbain: They were also enemies of France
[10:01] Gloriana Maertens: The enemy of my enemy is my friend?
[10:01] Aphrodite Macbain: something like that
[10:01] Aldo Stern: yes, Mercury...tourists spending lots of money are fun to have around
[10:02] Aldo Stern: but tourists can also be unpleasant -- think the "ugly American" of the 50s and 60s -- and you can hate them even as you cheerfully take their money
[10:02] Gloriana Maertens: ...there's also the Mary connection, with Phillip, but that's about a century past and didn't turn out that well, all things considered. So maybe not that.
[10:02] Aphrodite Macbain: yes, they are wanted, but can also be resented. Especially if they try to impose their cultural habits and values on local culture
[10:03] Mercury Gandt: ...as Lady Miller hints sometimes in her letters, Aph..
[10:03] Aldo Stern: That's a very good point Aph...and that's the difference here, perhaps -- think about the Englishman that most Neapolitans know as the representative of the UK
[10:03] Aldo Stern: Sir William Hamilton -- for many many years, the British ambassador to Naples
[10:04] Aldo Stern: In effect, the Englishman that most Neapolitans knew best was a very good example of some of the best aspects of his culture and socieity -- not only is he a genuinely nice guy but he loves and embraces Italian culture
[10:04] Aphrodite Macbain: smiles- who couldn't?
[10:05] Aldo Stern: as far as being a nice guy
[10:05] Aldo Stern: did you note how generous and welcoming he is with Lady Miller and her husband?
[10:05] Aldo Stern: and he has musical evenings at his home every week
[10:05] Aldo Stern: both Englishmen, and Italians are welcomed
[10:05] Aphrodite Macbain: I wonder what role Lady Hamilton played in all this.
[10:06] Aldo Stern: lots -- but the lady Hamilton who Lady Miller met was the first wife of the ambassador (she dies in 1782, Emma comes in 1786) and Emma Hamilton was helpful in making connections in Naples society too
[10:06] Aldo Stern: she was charming
[10:06] Aldo Stern: and pretty
[10:06] Aphrodite Macbain: or was she more interested in Lord Nelson
[10:06] Aldo Stern: not at this time
[10:06] Aldo Stern: Nelson isn't there until the late 1790s
[10:06] Aldo Stern: this is 20 years before that
[10:07] Aphrodite Macbain: nods
[10:07] Aldo Stern: on another note, what did you think of lady Miller's account of actually getting to Naples from Rome?
[10:08] Gloriana Maertens: What a horrid journey. >.<
[10:08] Mercury Gandt: If I had read it in 1776, I would have never travel to Italy
[10:08] Aldo Stern: at least not maybe by land
[10:08] Aphrodite Macbain: I haven't had a chance to read this. How did she travel? By boat or by carriage?
[10:08] Aldo Stern: carriage
[10:09] Gloriana Maertens: and a series of really bad accommodations
[10:09] Aldo Stern: follwing the route of the old Roman road
[10:09] Aphrodite Macbain: and the roads must have been terrible and dangerous
[10:09] Aldo Stern: part of which is actually under water
[10:09] Aphrodite Macbain: rainy season?
[10:09] Aldo Stern: I loved some of the detail
[10:09] Gloriana Maertens: ...you get the feeling they existed merely to provide a roof and to separate tourists with their money.
[10:09] Aldo Stern: not just about the food and the inns with no windows...but things like the fact that her husband kept a blunderbuss with him during the trip
[10:10] Mercury Gandt:
[10:10] Aphrodite Macbain: what a time of year to travel!
[10:10] Aldo Stern: they were traveling in Winter
[10:10] Vulpine Eldrich: I doubt they were deliberately bad, usually that sort of place has nothing to spend on its maintenance anyway
[10:10] Aldo Stern: yes. clearly these were country people without a lot of resources for themselves, let alone travelers
[10:11] Gloriana Maertens: I suppose I shouldn't expect Holiday Inns. :D
[10:11] Aldo Stern: though some were better than others
[10:12] Aldo Stern: and one should keep in mind that much of Italy had been fought over for the previous several centuries -- war and passing armies tend to reduce the amount of resources in the countryside for generations
[10:12] Vulpine Eldrich: she's not going to complain about them being bad if there aren't better elsewhere (though obviously nowhere on her route to Naples)
[10:12] Vulpine Eldrich: and was about to be again, if I read Ferdinand's history correctly... first the French revolution, then the Napoleonic wars
[10:13] Aldo Stern: yes
[10:13] Aldo Stern: that may also go back to some of why the Neapolitans liked the British
[10:13] Aldo Stern: there wasn't the same kind of history there
[10:14] Aldo Stern: the French the Austrians, the Spanish had at various times conquered and ruled southern Italy
[10:14] Aldo Stern: they came in, ruled things (usually badly) and then got driven out by someone else -- and the Italians didn't forget this...
[10:14] Aldo Stern: after all the Sicilians still talk about the Sicilian Vespers like it happened last week
[10:14] Aldo Stern: when it was actually in the 1200's
[10:15] Aphrodite Macbain: sounds like Ireland
[10:15] Aldo Stern: yes
[10:16] Vulpine Eldrich: hardly unique in areas with long lasting cultural memories. Though modern Americans don't have much experience with that.
[10:16] Aldo Stern: well sort of...
[10:17] Aphrodite Macbain: I will tiptoe away and make coffee
[10:17] Aldo Stern: I worked for a while for the Pequot Indian tribe in Conn. and their war with the English colonists was still a raw, sore issue for them
[10:17] Aldo Stern: and that happened in 1637
[10:17] Gloriana Maertens waves to Aphrodite
[10:17] Aldo Stern: but they talk about it like it was last week
[10:18] Aldo Stern: thank you Aph
[10:18] Vulpine Eldrich nods
[10:18] Aldo Stern: see you in a bit
[10:18] Aldo Stern: would you mind if I would call your attention to a few things that I found particularity intriguing
[10:18] Vulpine Eldrich: please do
[10:18] Aldo Stern: well besides the lack of formality that Gloriana mentioned
[10:19] Aldo Stern: and the trip details...
[10:19] Aldo Stern: ...I loved the blunderbuss...
[10:19] Aldo Stern: but that we also found evidence that English visitors in southern Italy DID in fact enjoy sea bathing
in the 18th century
[10:19] Aldo Stern: and from the description it seemed that Italians did too
[10:19] Mercury Gandt: Yes I smiled reading that part
[10:20] Vulpine Eldrich: it certainly makes our own facilities less an oddity and more of a fashionable thing
[10:20] Mercury Gandt: And they were good swimmers!
[10:20] Aldo Stern: ha, yes Mercury so the next time some know-it-all tries to tell you that our bathing beach is implausible, you can tell him we have documentation and he can go jump in the lake
[10:21] Gloriana Maertens: ...literally.
[10:21] Vulpine Eldrich: preferably with his clothes on to avoid offending the refined facilities of any piscine relatives he might have below
[10:21] Mercury Gandt: I haven't had the slightest doubt about it, Aldo
[10:21] Aldo Stern: and I also enjoyed the descriptions of the musical evenings at the Hamilton's... that it was not just having professionals or the hired help perform music...but something that guests and hosts joined in as well
[10:22] Vulpine Eldrich: now that's more like a party
[10:22] Mercury Gandt: karaoke party :P
[10:22] Aldo Stern: hahah yes, sort of
[10:23] Aldo Stern: and again, I was very impressed by the variety of nationalities that were represented...
[10:23] Aldo Stern: like the lady who provided lodging to lady Miller in Naples was the widow of a Spanish Marquis...which was also a very cool detail -- the idea of upper class ladies making ends meet in very practical ways
[10:25] Vulpine Eldrich: and nicely done, since having guests would be a noble thing to do (the fact that they are paying for it a small detail easily ignored when convenient)
[10:25] Aldo Stern: yes!
[10:25] Gloriana Maertens: "Proper" guests, at that. ^.^
[10:25] Vulpine Eldrich giggles
[10:26] Gloriana Maertens: ...the letters of introductions and multi-state social networking mentioned was of interest to me as well
[10:26] Aldo Stern: oh yes
[10:27] Mercury Gandt: I know I'm unjust saying this since I didn't know all her letters but I missed a kind of personality from her writings - I don't have an idea what kind of a person she could be
[10:27] Aldo Stern: that's a good question Mercury
[10:28] Aldo Stern: I would be curious if you try reading the entire book if it would give you a better sense
[10:28] Mercury Gandt: I don't dare to take the risk :P
[10:29] Aldo Stern: but i do agree with you, you have to sort of read between the lines and do some overall analysis to get an idea of what lady Miller is like as a person
[10:30] Aldo Stern: I have the sense she was a pretty adaptable person..essentially kind, and yes, a bit of a suck-up, perhaps
[10:30] Mercury Gandt: Disciplined then - she doesn't give out her opinion easily - I can't decide if she is whining, or objective when writing about the inns, for example
[10:30] Mercury Gandt: Or she likes the queen or not
[10:31] Aldo Stern: oh I think there is a difference between whining and complaining
[10:31] Vulpine Eldrich: She notes that she's rather tired of repeating herself on those
[10:31] Mercury Gandt: Surely there is - and I can't see which she is
[10:31] Aldo Stern: I think the really interesting aspect of it
[10:32] Aldo Stern: and perhaps the only way of knowing for sure would be to talk to her husband
[10:32] Vulpine Eldrich laughs
[10:32] Aldo Stern: she may have soldiered through it all, and only really complained to her friend in the letters
[10:32] Gloriana Maertens: there's a bit of wit to it though. when she describes the broth of a stew as a close cousin to the oil used for the lamps, for instance.
[10:32] Vulpine Eldrich: actually, it is something to read between the lines when someone describes themselves
[10:33] Vulpine Eldrich: other times, it's a bit more obvious...
[10:33] Aldo Stern: or she may have whined the whole time and her husband possibly wanted at some point to sell her to the banditi if she didn't close her pie-hole
[10:33] Mercury Gandt: lol
[10:34] Aldo Stern: But inthe end, I suspect she wasn't a bad traveling companion...and she certainly had diverse interests, including the art and history around them
[10:35] Gloriana Maertens: But in a Cousin Violet kind of way? Don't get me wrong, I loves me some snark. ^.^
[10:35] Vulpine Eldrich: a necessary breadth of interest to desire traveling as a tourist in the first place
[10:35] Aldo Stern: yes, very true Vulpine
[10:35] Vulpine Eldrich: (why ELSE are you going to go suffer in inns with no windows and rope beds)
[10:35] Aldo Stern: otherwise you can stay at home and be comfortable
[10:36] Aldo Stern: again I invite you to take the link and look at the actual book
[10:36] Aldo Stern: I think we are at an end and should, if possible, go join Aph in the coffee house, which is more IC
[10:36] Mercury Gandt: And Lawrence Stern on the shelves? Will he be the next subject of a discussion?
[10:37] Aldo Stern: possibly
[10:37] Aldo Stern: we have one more session to wrap up Tristram Shandy
[10:37] Aldo Stern: and then JJ and I were talking about maybe doing Sterne's travel book
[10:37] Aldo Stern: but that would only be may two sessions
[10:37] Aldo Stern: then maybe we can move on to Casanova's memoirs, eh?
[10:38] Mercury Gandt:
[10:38] Mercury Gandt: Now HE has a personality in his writing!

~~~

This woman, thought Achille Giglio to himself, is not an ordinary sort of woman...

Without slowing his pace, he readjusted the pack he was carrying so that it rode a little more comfortably. All the while, he kept his eyes on the woman ahead of him, appreciating her steady, confident stride....

This Devi...she is no stranger to difficult journeys, to the ways of the forest...and she definitely knows where she is going, mused Achille. He was actually quite pleased to find himself reassured of this fact. Because most decidedly, he did not know where he was going. On instructions from the Professore and the Conte Foscari, he had gone back to Venezia and and found this Devi woman, who was in service to the Contessa Elena Foscari. His job then, once he had found Devi, was to convince her that he actually was carrying messages from the Padrone and the Conte, and to have her to take him to where the Contessa was hiding.

Yes, the Contessa was in hiding, with a tribe of Romani, it seemed. And Devi was the only person who could take Achille to the people who were concealing the Contessa.

He had expected the hard part to be convincing her that he wasnt one of the bad guys. In actuality, it turned out to be not so difficult. Once Achille gave a secret sign and password provided by the Conte, Devi had been more than ready to work with him. They had ridden north from Venezia, and left the horses at an inn in the foothills of the Dolomite mountains. Now they were going over trails that could only be navigated by donkeys or people on foot. There were roads -- of a sort -- though this area, roads that Devi said went to the place where the Romani were camped. After all, they had to be able to get their animals and their wagons to the campsites. But Devi stated that these footpaths would be faster, and that it would be harder for anyone who might be following them to keep up, and Achille had absolutely no inclination to give her an argument about it. Only those who knew these trails could keep from getting lost in the mountains. And Devi obviously was someone who knew these pathways very, very well.

No, they would not get lost. And anyone trying to follow them from Venice, more than likely would.

Eventually, when it was almost dusk on the fourth day of their trek, they came to what seemed to be a dead end of the path, where it dissipated in a cluster of fir trees. But Devi pointed to steep slope, almost like a wall of rock and underbrush: they climbed it and then broke through the bushes at the top, out into a glen that spread below, where campfires burned, covered Romani wagons were parked, and people went about their daily chores. The distinctive tinny clattering of hammer blows on thin metal gave evidence that tinsmiths or coppersmiths were at work somewhere among this small, mobile community.

Devi indicated that Achille should wait on the edge of the camp while she went over to a group of what seemed to be the tribal leaders, who were seated around a central fire on felled logs and rocks. Achille could see that Devi appeared to be well known to these people, and was warmly greeted by them, particularly one older gentleman, who welcomed Devi even more enthusiastically than the others.

Among this cluster of dark-haired, colorfully dressed individuals, Achille could see a figure among the group, shorter than others, wrapped in a simple, dark cloak, with her jet-back hair woven into an impressively long and full-bodied braid that reached far down her back. It was obvious to Achilles powers of observation that this person was a part of the group, but also somehow different...slightly set apart...with them, but not entirely one of them?

Achille realized almost immediately it was the Contessa Elena Foscari. His journey from Sorrentina had not been in vain.

He could see Devi pointing to him and explaining something. The main body of the tribal leaders came over, smiling, welcoming him to their camp in heavily accented Italian. The old gentlemen who had seemed especially glad to see Devi introduced himself as the chieftain of the community, and he called for the Romani women to bring wine, bread and cheese for their guest. Meanwhile, Achille could see that Devi and the Contessa had been left to themselves by the group. The sun had now set, bu their faces were illuminated by the central fire -- the council fire it would seem -- of the Romani camp.

Although the two women were quite far away from him, Achille could tell it was a relatively animated conversation. It certainly seemed to the tavern-keeper that Devi and the Contessa did not have the usual sort of relationship one expected between a Padrona and serva. From what Achille could discern in the dancing light of the campfire, Devi was giving her mistress a pretty sizable piece of her mind. He reflected that although he never hesitated to be honest with his Padrone, Don Aldo, he always made sure that he couched such honesty within a framework of respect and...well...deference, which was certainly something that il Professore was entitled to...not so much because of his formal status and position -- which in the larger scheme of things wasnt that big of a deal -- but because he had earned it though his actions as a man of honor and decency...

Achille was stirred from his thoughts by the fact that Devi had risen and was signaling from him to come over to the fire. He carried over his pack, which he had taken from his back, and extracted a small envelope. He bowed to the Contessa and began, Signorina Contessa, I bring you greetings from your father, the Conte Foscari, who is safe and cheerfully pursuing his various business interests in Rocca Sorrentina, as the former principality of Melioria is now called. He sends you this message with all possible expressions of affection, and hopes for your well-being and good health.

He handed her the envelope and followed up this action with another small bow, inclining neck and head in a modest gesture of respect. Then he continued, When you are ready, I also have a verbal message from my Padrone, Don Aldo Stern, member of the council of Magistrates of Rocca Sorrentina.

He waited while she opened the envelope and read the contents of the letter it contained. Her face was a mask as she read. If anything in the content of the letter disturbed or alarmed her, she gave no indication of it. Instead she laid the paper on the fire and impassively watched it first darken, then blacken and turn to ash. She looked up at Achille and spoke softly, My father wishes for me to join him in...Rocca Sorrentina. It seems he now knows who has been sending us confusing messages, and trying to take me into some kind of custody.... Her eyes suddenly flashed angrily as she spoke this last part...then the calm returned.

What is the message from Don Aldo?

Achille cleared his throat and began, Don Aldo Stern sends the Contessa Foscari his greetings and best wishes. He enjoins you to take care. as the agents of Signore Cristofoli are quite numerous...and as you by now know, it is Cristofoli, Chief of the Sbirri secret police in Venezia, who are behind all this confusion and the effort to detain you. My Padone also most respectfully asks that you permit the woman who is in your service, Devi, to return to Venezia with me, Achille Giglio, in order that she may employ her skills, contacts and knowledge in assisting in the execution of a plan that will hopefully correct some unfortunate situations.

The Contessa appeared thoughtful for a moment and then asked, May I know more about this plan?

Simply put, Contessa, the intention is to extract Signor Gandt from Venezia before the Sbirri realize that he is not going to lead them to you. The Professore and the Conte have shaped a plan that will provide him with the means to safely relocate...and it must be done with some haste and efficiency, hence the desirability of including Devi in the process. After all, once Cristofolis men have come to see Don Mercurio as no longer potentially useful..."

At this point Achille shrugged and then went on, "... it is not unlikely that the poor gentleman will soon end up sleeping with the fishes at the bottom of a canal.

The Contessa Elena Foscari paused, but then nodded. I understand. You have my leave to employ Devi in carrying out this plan, if she is willing to do so.

The tavern keeper smiled. Milie grazie, Contessa. If all goes as intended, Devi will be able to rejoin you on Rocca Sorrentina in a matter of no more than two weeks.

The Contessa looked puzzled and a little annoyed. What? She wont be staying in Venezia? Perhaps I have some reasons of my own for her to remain the city.

Ah...well...you see, Contessa...that would be...um...unwise, replied Achille. You see...the plan includes elements that have some significant longer-term implications.

Such as?

It is the intention of the Conte and the Professore...and their extensive networks of associates and friends...to actually strike a blow back at Cristofoli...by diminishing his assets somewhat...and by taking at least one of his operatives into custody and making a trade for someone else whom the Sbirri is holding...

Achille realized that the Contessa was staring at him with an unusual intensity for what seemed to be a very long time. He really couldnt tell if she had concluded that the plan was brilliantly audacious in its intent...or perhaps had she concluded it was utterly insane?

Finally, she spoke. I see now...yes...if Devi is involved in any of this, it would be risky for her to be anywhere near the long arm of the Sbirri for some time after the game has played out. We cannot give Cristofoli any opportunities to get even. The island will be a better place for her to be.

Achille smiled and bowed again. The Contessa is very perceptive. The Professore will be much happier with Devi on Rocca Sorrentina, once the die have been cast.

That night, the Romani camp was awash with singing, dancing and music. There was also a good bit of drinking going on, and at a certain point, Achille convinced one of the men to lend him his guitar. If the Romani man had not been quite so drunk he might have been even more doubtful about the wisdom of loaning his beloved instrument to the gadje. But Achille carefully tuned the guitar and began playing the Boccherini fandango he had been working on so much in recent months with the Professore. Although it did not sound the same without Don Aldo playing his part on the harpsichord, the Romani seemed to like it very much, especially the rousing fast passages, and several of them picked it up quickly and were soon joining in with their guitars and violins.

Achille glanced over and noticed that Devi had taken a seat next to him, and was gazing into the fire, seemingly lost in the music, a strangely charming little smile on her face.

He was very pleased. The fact that Devi would be going with him back to Venezia gave him some additional confidence that this crazy plan would work out. And then the idea that Devi would also be going on to Rocca Sorrentina after the plan was executed...that made Achille extremely happy for some reason. Yes, things might just work out nicely in the end...provided of course, that they all lived through what they were about to attempt.

~~~

After viewing the newly-cast bronze cannon that were hidden in a chamber off of the caverns under the great villa, il Professore and his guest went to the coffee house to continue their conversation.

Abu bin Malachi, special envoy of the Pasha of Tripoli and general agent at large of the Great Sultan in Istanbul, gratefully accepted a cup of well-sweetened coffee from his host and old friend, Don Aldo Stern, member of the Council of Magistrates at Rocca Sorrentina in the Kingdom of Naples and occasional diplomatic representative of the House of Savoy.

He sipped from his steaming cup and commented, The beverage, it is excellent, my friend. Your people of this beautiful place, they understand truly the art of coffee.

Don Aldo bowed his head respectfully. Your words are kind, and I will share them with the mistress of the coffee house, who has retired for the night so that you and I may speak with directness, as we have always done.

The gray-bearded Ottoman gentleman smiled. That we have. You and I...fortunate are we among those who do serve in the world of diplomacy. There are few in my trade whom I may call friend...and it is not a term I use lightly or without true cause. As you well know, I full believe that certain words are as important as actions, imbued with great importance, and are to be treated with respect...as one treats anything of sacred value and meaning.

Don Aldo nodded. After a pause, he asked quietly, What do you think of the guns? Will those and others like them serve your purpose?

Indeed, bin Malachi answered. They are things of terrible beauty, a testament to the skill of the foundry-master who cast them. They will fulfill their role nobly, both as gift and ultimately, in their essential purpose as tools of defense. It has been a long time since I looked upon pieces so well made.

Il Professore sighed. It is much to my regret that so far I was only able to secure three of the six that were requested. However, they did appear much sooner than I expected...I suspect the gentleman who provided them to me took them from another order that had already been assembled for a different client, as a demonstration of good faith to me. While it is not the full number that was required, as you happened to be nearby, I thought you would care to see them. I am gratified that you received my message and were able to divert the course of your travels...and not simply so that I might show you the guns, but also that I could have an opportunity to visit with a good friend, even if only briefly.

I am very pleased you did so, replied the gentleman from Tripoli. In fact, if you feel comfortable with me doing so, before the sun even again rises, I can take the three guns onto my ship and go forward to commence the negotiations for the release of the lady.

Ah, I would most certainly be comfortable with such an arrangement. Our good King Ferdianads customs officers have returned to the mainland, and will be no hindrance. If you wish...I could provide some additional goods as tokens of esteem, and as assurance that the other artillery pieces will be forthcoming.

No, no, my friend. I would ask that you not think of such as being necessary. And besides, I may even be able to make the argument that these three guns are so finely crafted as to be worth the equivalent of six pieces of more standard quality, eh?

Abu bin Malachi was grinning like a Berber merchant who was about to make a very favorable transaction. Il Professore could not help smiling in return. His old friend took such obvious joy and delight in the challenge of negotiating, that it was as if diplomacy was a favorite sport rather than a profession for him.

By the way, continued bin Malachi, how has the blacksmith fared?

It is gracious of you to inquire," replied Don Aldo. "He is doing well, and in fact came here to the island to serve as our ironsmith and sword cutler. He seems to feel some sense of duty to me, in return for the small role I played in securing his ransom from captivity.

Hah! And well he should. Now THAT was a challenge, to obtain the release of a man with such useful skills and knowledge! By comparison, getting a lady, even a well-born one, returned from enslavement is a small matter. Allah has seen fit to fill the world with a great many women, but really good blacksmiths? Not so common they are, you know.

Abu bin Malachi sipped his coffee and paused, then looked up with a thoughtful expression. In all sincerity, my friend, I am pleased to know that the man prospers. To be held as a slave is no easy path, and the marks it may leave upon a mans mind and spirit can be difficult to overcome. I wish unto Miguel the blacksmith a long and joyful existence, and if he feels he owes that to you, I can think of many worse men to whom one might be indebted. Speaking of those who have prospered in your service, will I have the chance to see that good fellow, Achille?

No my friend, he is away, carrying messages to a certain Contessa who we have come to understand is in the camps of the Sinti, in the mountains to the north.

The Sinti?

That is the term we use in my homeland of the Piedmont. They are a branch of the Romani.

Ah yes, the wandering people -- we have some of their communities in the parts of the Balkans that the Empire still controls. Some very good coppersmiths, there are among them. Is this Contessa of Romani descent?

No...not that I am aware of...she is, in fact, the daughter of the Venetian Conte who helped me to procure those artillery pieces. She is hiding among the nomads in order to avoid falling into the hands of...shall we say, unpleasant people in Venezia.

Abu bin Malachi sighed and set down his coffee cup. The world would be a much nicer place if there not quite so many unpleasant people wandering about. But it sounds as if this Venetian gentleman is someone who it would be good to know...I should like to meet him sometime.

~~~

Not everyone in the Kingdom of Naples was equally fond of their Austrian-born Queen Maria-Carolina. Some, in fact, downright loathed the woman. But even those who disliked her would grudgingly admit that she worked very hard running the kingdom.

You see, her husband, King Ferdinand, was not terribly enthused about anything more intellectually demanding than deciding which horse to ride on that days hunt. So it fell to Her Majesty and the Englishman Sir John Acton -- who functioned essentially as her prime minister -- to carry out the administration of the lands that included most of southern Italy.

In essence, while the King cheerfully went about his days activities of hunting and acquiring new antiquities for his collections, the real power in the Kingdom was exercised by the Queen and her favorite -- Sir John Acton -- from her study in the Royal Palace in Naples.

On this particular day, Sir John was presenting a series of documents for Maria Carolinas consideration, most of which were dealing with relatively routine matters. Finally, he came to something that was a bit out of the ordinary.

Your Majesty?

The Queen looked up from the silk factory plans she was studying.

Yes, Sir John?

Sadly, it is time to do something about that island.

The Queen sighed and put down the silk factory plans.

Ah, yes. Prince Elswitt still has not been found, I take it?

No, Your Majesty, he has not. And although there is no body or other remains that have been identified, it has now been over two years. The conclusion is that the unfortunate gentleman perished at the hands of the natives in California.

There are no legal heirs?

No, Your Majesty. The Princess was estranged from Prince Elswitt long before he left for New Spain, and he had specifically made arrangements that she could not inherit the principality under the provisions of his will. Likewise, both of his sons were induced to renounce any hereditary rights in return for financial security. And at any rate, the elder son is unlikely to survive very long due to the multiple and advanced forms of

The Queen was looking at her favorite minster with an arched eyebrow. He coughed and then continued.

...theumsocial diseases he has contracted.

Maria Carolina frowned.

This is all very unusual. How did things come to this state of affairs?

"It is, replied Sir John, a very long story.

Then spare me, answered the Queen dryly.

She looked thoughtful for a moment and then went on.

It is a tragedy, certainly. Prince Elswitt was a brilliant, if thoroughly unconventional sort of gentleman. He and I shared some viewpoints about social and scientific matters, and we hada few other things in common as well. I had the pleasure to meet and speak with him a few times, but I do regret that I shall not have another chance to do soin this world, at least.

Sir John nodded. He was very aware that both the Prince of Melioria and the Queen were involved with Freemasonry. The Queens interest in the Freemasons had been a key aspect of the differences that led to the downfall of the once powerful prime minister of the kingdom, Bernardo Tanucci. Well differences over Freemasonry and Tanuccis close ties to the Spanish court and Spanish policies. Removing him had made it possible for The Kingdom of Naples to have much closer relations with both Austria and Great Britain.

So what is to be done? asked the Queen. "The title is extinguished with the Princes death, and the island reverts to the Kingdom, I believe?

Exactly, Your Majesty.

Very well, then. If you will draw up the necessary documents

Sir John smiled slightly as he slid some papers in front of the Queen.

I have taken the liberty of doing so.

The Queen was not displeased. This was part of why Sir John Acton was her favorite. He was efficient; he didnt dither and he didnt waste her time. As she looked at the papers she furrowed her brow.

The name of the place is different in these papersRocca Sorrentina?

Yes, Your Majesty. Melioria was a name applied to the principality by the Elswitts. Its traditional name is Rocca Sorrentina. In fact it is still identified as such on navigational charts. It would avoid confusion

Maria Carolina shrugged slightly and began signing the various decrees. When she had finished, the Principality of Melioria no longer existed. The Island of Rocca Sorrentina would now be administered directly by a Royal governor, appointed by the privy council in Naples.

As the secretary sprinkled sand on the Queens signature to dry the ink and prevent smearing, and Sir John shuffled his various papers, the Queen suddenly spoke.

Any ideas on who should be Governor?

Oh I have a list for you to consider. But unless Your Majesty is inclined to be finished with the matter, I think there is no rush. The island has been very capably administered by a council of regents since the Prince disappeared, and it would be perfectly sensible to appoint those regents as the new council of local magistrates to work with the Governor. It is my considered opinion that they would do very well in the role.

The Queen smiled an odd little smile.

Something tells me you already know these peopleor at least some of them?

Sir Johns expression did not change.

In fact, Your Majesty I do indeed. One of the council of regents is Sir Geoffrey Edwardstone, whom I know very well through various business and social contacts.

Another Englishman, eh?

Yesbut more importantly he is a banker, working with a certain financial association which has its headquarters in the Netherlands, as well as affiliates in London, Milan and ViennaSir Geoffrey was, in fact, appointed to this council by the Princes bankers, who had the responsiblity to see that the conditions of the will were carried out.

The Queen nodded. She knew exactly which banking group Sir John was speaking about. Nothing more needed to be said. This Sir Geoffrey Edwardstone was involved with people who were not to be trifled with. If they ultimately had a hand in shaping the situation, it was best to leave their representative in place until they decided it was time to move him to other projects.

Who else is on this council of regents? asked the Queen.

"Besides the knighted banker, Sir Geoffrey, there is his niece, a Miss Timelessalso English, of course, and possessed of a very independent frame of mind.

Ah, the Queen arched an eyebrow, a bluestocking?

Not at all, Your Majesty. Miss Timeless is much more gifted in terms of fashion sense and taste than your average over-educated English Lady. But yes, she is very well-read...with an interest and some skill in architecture and viticulture.

Interesting. And are there others with whom Our governor must contend?

Well, yes...there is a woman who is a bit of a mystery an artist of considerable talentwe dont know much about her, but she has a French nameshe may be a refugee from the former colonies of New France, judging by her accent. And there are two widowed ladies, from minor German nobility. One is a rather exceptional fencer and provides instruction in that skill. The other is a Baroness whose husband was a cavalry officer in Prussian servicewon the Pour leMerite and all thatshe travels a good bit and as best as my informants can tell, is probably an intelligence agent working for the Hohenzollerns. Then there is a former Jesuit and law professor from Torino, with a past history of working in the diplomatic services of Austria and the Kingdom of Sardinia-Piedmontwe think that he may still have some activities he carries out on behalf of the House of Savoy...Oh, and there is Prince Elswitts half-sister.rather quiet, but possessed of a very good head for business, it seems.

Maria Carolina, Queen of Naples and sister of Marie Antoinette sat stonily looking at Sir John Acton as he rattled off this cosmopolitan list of oddities. Even when he had finished speaking, she continued sitting there, gazing at him for a few silent moments, her exquisite face a sort of blank mask.

Finally, she spoke in a flat tone.

Very well. Sounds like a perfectly normal group under the circumstances. Please convey to them Our greetings and request that they remain in service as the council of local magistrates for the Island of Rocca Sorrentina.

As you wish, Your Majesty. I shall attend to the matter at once.

Sir John stood and bowed, and then withdrew. The Queen thought about Prince Elswitt once more, sighed again, and rubbed her eyes. The world, she reflected, is a strange and forever changing place.

~