Category : Books-Fiction

Sub Category : Drama

A quiet threefold knock on the door. The intruder hesitated for a fleeting moment before entering the chambers. He walked past a huge canopied bed, pushed apart red velvet curtains and flung the terrace door open. Morning sun instantly filled the room with bright colors and pleasing chilly breeze brought smells of various peculiar flowers growing in the outside garden. Feeling the warmth of the sun rays on her cheeks, Maria Benevento smiled and opened her eyes to see the servant already sneaking back towards the entrance.  
“Breakfast will be served shortly, my lady.” – announced young lad with a solemn bow. 
Maria thanked the boy, and when he took his leave, she slipped in light silk gown and went out on a terrace to admire natural beauties late spring bestowed. The garden was thriving like never before. Yellow, purple, red, green – all those sharp colors were almost blinding to a person who spend last few hours in the darkness beneath her canopy. As she was adjusting to the sudden outburst of brightness, her glance was wandering around the mesmerizing picture before her. Few can boast about having as perfect a view from a bedchamber as those who live in Benevento's mansion and Maria found it extremely beneficial both to her pride and to her spirit to stare at the colorful sea in front of her and the dark blue one beyond. 
Grand golden statue just meters away from the main entrance caught her attention. Someone, probably a stable boy or one of the cook’s apprentices, placed a self-made carnival mask on the monument’s face. Maria chuckled. How she used to hate that particular statue when she was little just because she wasn’t strong and able enough to climb it, and for some reason that was one of her random childish obsessions. In time, she learned to respect the sculpture and what it signified for her family. Tall and mighty warrior, holding a hexagonal shield in one hand and a long spear in the other, was perpetuated in solid gold to serve as a reminder for inhabitants of the mansion as well as for any outsiders that Benevento family descended from the very founders of the Republic, and therefore must be treated with utmost respect. So it has been for the past five hundred years and given how reverently Lord Emilio regarded his legacy, it was destined to remain so for at least a hundred more. 
Contemplating the statue Maria stood there for quite some time before finally descending to the dining room, positively sure that she already missed breakfast. The only person she saw sitting at the table was her elder brother Ettore, casually sipping water and going over correspondence. 
  "So, who is furious about not getting an invite for today's feast?" – asked Maria and planted a light kiss on his cheek. 
 "The Bangones." – replied Ettore in his usual quiet and emotionless voice, "Of course they never put their annoyance in writing, only some passive-aggressive remarks here and there". 
 “Good! Hope they will climb their ivy wall out of boredom this evening, it might just teach Lord Gennaro to stop tampering with exchange rates whenever he feels like it, especially not before carnival!” 
Ettore slightly lifted his head and looked at Maria, his thick eyebrows raised, deep brown eyes staring with confusion. 
“You do realize father did the exact same thing last week, don’t you?”
Maria burst out in laughter and slapped Ettore’s shoulder. 
“Oh, dear brother, I do love seeing that look on your face! I was only trying to figure out what kind of a banker you’ll be: a wicked hypocrite or a fair saint.”
Ettore leaned back in his chair, curiously inspecting his sister.
“So, which type is better then?”
“The one with the most money, of course” – without hesitation replied Maria, - “Right now it’s father, and in a couple of years it’s going to be you. As far as I thought it through, that’s exactly why we are throwing this dinner every year before carnival, to showcase our wealth, to remind people who not to mess with. So, consequently, today’s evening is all about perfect dresses, lavish meals and positive predisposition. So, you will have to actually smile and act festive for once!” 
"You make it sound really easy," – sighed Ettore, - "I'm just not exactly looking forward to drinking and making friendly obscene jokes with our fellow competitors, knowing that the next day father will call upon me in his study to plot which clients to steal from them and which dirty rumours to spread. Because of such occasions, accounting, for all its dullness, starts to seem like the appealing part of our business." 
Maria laughed once again. She could hardly keep a straight face ever in these conversations, so comical her brother looked and sound with his seriousness and literately, with almost no scent of humor in his remarks. But such was Ettore –composure and conscientiousness personified. 
"Yeah, we all pity you, Ettore Benevento! It's so obvious how much you must loathe being a first-born son of the most influential economist of our time, how much you must suffer to realize that you will one day inherit all his wealth, and social stance, how much you must despise the fairest maids of the capital all but throw themselves at you for a chance to share your harsh burdens…"  
To her incredible satisfaction, Maria actually succeeded to bring even the faintest of smiles to Ettore's face, at that proclaiming her mission accomplished and proceeded to consume her regular millet porridge while washing it down with perfectly aged red wine. Soon enough, however, the threshold of silence has been reached and she readily as ever resumed the conversation, now on a far more personal topic.
"Speaking of burdens, how fares your lovely bride? Will Lady Caecilia honor us with her presence this evening?
Ettore’s expression darkened and he’s risen up from his letters again, now in annoyance rather than in confusion.
“I told you many a time, dear sister, to stop calling her that. There cannot be any ties between us until the engagement is announced and all formal affairs are settled. We cannot even be seen talking to each other longer than it’s dictated by the etiquette between a guest and a host. Add that as yet another reason for my distaste for tonight’s forsaken feast!” – blurted out Ettore and smashed the table with an open palm. 
Such outburst took Maria completely unawares, and for a moment she sat with a cup leaning against her lips, bewildered and quite unsure what to say next. She knew that Ettore and Caecilia Cinii developed a certain affection for each other over the last month, ever since their thoughtful fathers started to convene for "business meetings" every now and then, but Maria couldn't even suspect there could be such a strong attachment. She wondered if Caecilia felt and reacted the same way as Ettore about such social preconceptions and their relationship, considering the wedding is still the arranged one. Does she want to marry her brother? Is she devoted to him nearly as Ettore is obviously devoted to her? Maria's mother, long gone from the world now, once said that the only difference between a lady and a lady-in-waiting is that the latter waits for miracles at her father's house and the former at her husband's, but they rarely come either way. This bitter notion sank deep into Maria's young heart, as she saw her own mother and countless other noble ladies fade and wither away in the shadows of their lords, unwanted and left in a vacuum of their own miserable existence. Maria herself trembled at the prospect of leaving Benevento's mansion for some other cold castle to serve at the pleasure of a man she might have not even spoken a word to before. Ettore's arrangements took longer than usual – he is an heir after all – other children of capital's elite citizens are not often that lucky. Despite her instinctive distaste for political engagements, Maria was still happy for Ettore. At least he will feel the joy to unite with the woman he came to love, and maybe, with sufficient luck and effort, this unity will grow to be a happy one for a change. 
Eager to occupy her mind with more pleasing thoughts, after the breakfast she instructed a chief stable man to saddle her black palfrey immediately and waived two of the wandering household guards to follow. Those were the explicit orders of Lord Emilio that no member of Benevento family at any occasion, under any circumstances should leave the mansion without a proper escort. "When something troublesome, no matter how small and insignificant happens in the city, the smallfolk will always find a reason to pelt us, the rich, with rotten tomatoes in the streets. Those people can really hold grudges if nothing else." – used to say father every time Maria tried to object the custom. "Rotten tomatoes" in a number of cases proved to be an understated metaphor, as earlier that year, chancellor Scordato's own nephew was assassinated by a throwing knife while passing the market square. Despite the obvious persistence of the militia, the murderer was never found…
As soon as the two guards positioned themselves on either side of her, and the third one was ready to hold the rear, Maria set off her palfrey in a trotting pace towards the shoreline. The sea looked peaceful and calming, just like everything else that morning. The harbor was stockpiled as usual with trading galleys and a couple of warships just in case of some ridiculous attack, but, truly, no state across the sea was stupid enough to ever assault the capital. A little farther from the harbor, clouded by fog, but still visible stood a magnificent Bridge of the Ancestors, which connected Chancellor's Palace to the rest of the city. Even though she has seen the palace countless times before, Maria still slowed down her horse to behold the greatest architectural achievement of the Republic. The mansion projected enormous wealth, pride and strength of the nation – precisely what the place of concentrated power needed to project. The walls of solid white stone decorated with multiple ornamental engravings formed a perfect square alongside the shoreline of the island. From behind all the fortifications, the palace itself emerged. The same uniform white color of the walls, but with much more thoughtful decorations, golden statues, elegant windows, and, finally, the quintessence of all beauty was a semi-spherical roof laid out of glowing emerald. The final touch was a pole at the highest point of the building with two flags attached to it. The first one was a traditional banner of the Republic, its canvas divided diagonally into areas of yellow and blue, one color symbolizing the riches of the Earth, the other – treasures of the sea. In the middle was painted a white circle interlaced by multiple lines forming a complex knot, which is supposed to remind every citizen of Avaritia about democracy as a fundamental principle of the Republic, the only thing keeping the realm from falling into monarchic tyranny. Just underneath that symbolic and thought-conveying banner flattered a red head of a boar on a green background – the sigil of current chancellor's house. The flag itself didn't signify much at all apart from a loose hint happily picked up by mudslingers that Scordato's family originated from pig farmers. 
Association with the Scordato family snapped Maria out of contemplative state and fully returned her thoughts to the upcoming banquet. Representatives of the most well-known and rich families in the capital will show up at Benevento's mansion, flaunting their exquisite garments, luxurious jewelry and above all factitious devotion to the country and the law. In turn, Lord Emilio must showcase his own lavishness, serve more exotic dishes and invite better, unique entertainers than any other host did last year. Intense battles for the prestige were often fought and won by outspending and outbidding your opponent, so Maria thought about such friendly gatherings of sworn enemies as nothing more than a duty to her father, to her family, and to the business, but that did not mean she couldn't enjoy herself. With careful consideration, like a general preparing for a siege, upon her return from the ride, she began skimming through her wardrobe and studying dinner plans. Choosing the dress for such an occasion was as significant as deciding on a battle formation. What would be more beneficial, to go aggressive by wearing Benevento colors of red and black, showing off her pride, to play a devout mistress in a closed blue dress, or, perhaps, hint at upcoming elections by choosing classic republican white and gold? After countless try-outs Maria finally settled with the intimidating first choice, reinforcing this decision by assuming that red would perfectly mix with her black hair. Working out table arrangements proved to be even trickier. Based on guests' reputation, rumors, and her own personal judgment, she had to find everyone a seat without turning the feast into pit fighting. Luckily, the most obvious separation principle was based on supporting election candidates. Pretty much every banker or some industry owner invested a considerable amount of his revenue into contestants for a chancellor's palace every five years. This time, three leading candidates are expected to be current chancellor Jenoah Scordato, a state admiral Desiderius Cantarini and the long-serving high justiciar Luigi Vieri. The latter posed a huge interest to Maria, as her father decided to bet on that particular racehorse, so his seat would be just on her right, and other politicians would be allocated rather far from the dais for the sake of sending a loud message. 
Maria made the last adjustment to the dinner plan way past noon and descended to the guest hall to see servants already running around with plates and wine bottles, musicians fiddling with their lutes and organs, but still no sign of her father or younger brother. In the morning she wrote off Lord Emilio's absence on his immense diligence sometimes bordering with obsession that leads him to all but sleep in his study. However, that excuse completely fails to suggest why he wasn't here now, shouting orders and anxiously lecturing his children for a hundredth time on how to handle pillars of Avaritian society. Lucca, the youngest Benevento sibling upon choosing a military career in hopes of someday taking charge of the infantry, was now serving in chancellor's elite household guard and was probably still on duty. Maria came up to Ettore, who was reading some ponderous book in the corner of the room, looking as peaceful and unconcerned as that ancestral golden statue, despite all the activity around him. 
“Where the hell are father and Lucca? The guests will start arriving any minute now!” – snapped Maria, even more annoyed at Ettore’s apparent indifference. 
“Father is off to an urgent meeting with the chancellor, he said they will arrive here together to make an extremely significant announcement. Lucca, though, is probably guarding the chancellor this very minute. I guess we shall offer mead and bread ourselves this time.”
"You speak so calmly of this!" – replied Maria with her eyes full of anxiety, - "You know how prickly everyone is about pride and customs, and, if anything, father should be arriving with Vieri, he invested in the campaign bloody half of our… his last year revenue! I swear…" 
Before she could finish her rant, one of the lackeys in hallway informed them about three approaching carriages. 
“Oh, here we go. Great.” – wrapped up Maria, her anger and annoyance immediately vanished from her face, replaced by the most welcoming smile. 
She straightened her back, adjusted her dress a bit more and gracefully headed towards the main entrance. Ettore, also, quickly cast aside his book and walked right beside her wearing an impervious mask of composure and concentration. After a fleeting moment of silence, oaken doors swung open and the coachman announced: 
“Lord Desiderius Cantarini. Lady Servilia Cantarini.”  
Siblings exchanged a brief glance. The Cantarini couple rarely made any public appearances, and their arrival was definitely awaited with an unhealthy amount of anxiety. Lord Desiderius built his career on more than a thousand corpses of pirates and sea raiders he chased at the head of the Avaritian armada. Most pikes on the Judgement Square were occupied by severed heads thanks to that particular citizen, and if half the stories from his former crewmen were true, Desiderius Cantarini was not a pleasant company whatsoever. Even his face could be disturbing to new acquaintances: the left eyebrow being raised unusually higher than the right, emotionless squinting eyes, constantly ajar mouth, something in the combination of all this was alarming and unsettling. However, despite being a moody and, frankly, ugly person, which traditionally thought to be extremely harmful to politicians, Desiderius was considered one of the election favorites, with the army of supporters admiring his work on country's security and military innovations. 
The female guest, although didn't have that vicious look about her, still possessed similar sinister aura that was felt instantly by the hosts. Lady Servilia was the last surviving member of formerly prominent Spaviero family, which is the perfect example of how one sentiment and a momentary weakness could cost everything for those who fight on the battlegrounds of trade. Her grandfather Davide was an experienced merchant, who finally at the age way past sixty got his hands full with wool industry. While being one of the pioneers at mass production, he rejected the offer of his lifetime to export overseas, and subdued himself to forever rot in the inside market. Things went downhill fast enough for the poor bastard to sell his own daughter as his last act to prevent the eventual annihilation of his house, but that turned out to be useless as Davide and his son both died shortly from pneumonia. So, now the happy buyer stood beside this aging woman, who no doubt was as comely as they come in her youth. In fact, her face, apart from a couple of wrinkles above her lips, didn't betray at all that she was in her mid-forties. Her hair was bright yellow, hard and straight like straw, barely touching her shoulders, contrasting with a smooth blue dress with almost no part of the skin exposed. Even her hands were covered in long gloves. 
"Welcome, Lord Desiderius, Lady Servilia! We are pleased and honored to have you as our guests." – politely stated Maria.
"Hm, doesn't seem like Lord Emilio is honored enough to greet us in person." – venomously replied Servilia twisting her lips into a sarcastic grin. 
Maria's warm smile evaporated almost instantly. She has anticipated such reaction and she has never been so mad with her father before. Luckily, Ettore came to rescue and led the couple into the dining hall, while his sister stayed behind to receive more visitors, wondering who else will point out their discourtesy. The flow of new arrivals was only intensifying, and everyone, literally everyone, from renowned noblemen to their spoiled arrogant children felt obligated to show discontent about the absence of Lord Emilio. Disdainful glances, spiteful whispers, the overall hostile atmosphere completely crushed whichever positive expectations Maria nourished about this evening. Her perhaps the only outlet was always festive and upbeat justiciar Vieri, who was as happy as any man could be while devouring freshly cooked boar, his bald head shining brighter than all four braziers in the hall combined. 
Ettore seemed disquieted as well, although it was difficult to say what he was more upset about, father's weird behavior or the necessity of keeping the distance from his beloved Caecilia. The girl was barely older than sixteen, but from the first glance, she looked as mature as any lady in the room. Her beautiful ginger hair fluttering in all directions as she whirled in dance, and her childishly naïve and open smile were definitely attracting curious glances and obvious interest from the opposite sex. Maria envied the young girl because all she attracted so far were reproach and ridicule. Sure, she was dancing, smiling and exchanging occasional pleasantries, as her guests also danced, smiled and exchanged occasional pleasantries, but none of that felt real and genuine. Every next compliment was more and more forced, the scent of anxiety inside the hall intensified with every passing moment. People started gathering in small groups as by some unanimous instinct and whispering something to each other while stealing quick glances at the front door. It was evident that Lord Emilio's disregard of the party was not going to be quietly tolerated very much longer. 
Maria, as she grew more restless, finally stormed out of the mansion in a desperate hope to see her father's or chancellor's carriage. Not that her presence outside would make them arrive any quicker, but she couldn't bear to spend another second in that stuffy hall, full of spite and anger. She wasn't even mad with Lord Emilio any longer, her only desire was to give him a tight hug and somehow turn this abominable evening around. 
Soon enough, three carriages were fast approaching the outside gate of Benevento mansion. One of them bore the sigil of House Scordato. Maria has probably never felt happier to see the ugly display of a red boar in her entire life. She giggled and ran towards the carriage. Let the chancellor think whatever he wants. But just as quickly her burst of happy laughter stopped abruptly as the doors of all three carriages swung open, and instead of members of the court, soldiers in full green armor climbed out of them. Chancellor's household guard. "Why? Where is father? What happened?" – urged to cry out Maria, but she just stood paralyzed until the guard lightly touched her on the shoulder.
"Please, get back indoors my lady." After that, she snapped and pushed the soldier's hand away. 
"What the hell is happening?! You have no right to just waltz in here. I demand to speak with the chancellor or Lord Emilio immediately! I …" 
The sergeant rolled his eyes and signaled his men to handle that hysteric attack. Two guards immediately hastened towards them, took Maria by the arms and started dragging her to the front entrance. She started yelling even more, helplessly struggling against strong trained arms of her captors. Benevento's own household guards looked ferocious, even placed their hands on sword hilts but did nothing to intervene. The intruders bore the badge of chancellor's elite division, to show resistance might be seen as an act of high treason. 
By the time all the armed party got inside the guest hall, Maria already composed herself enough and the soldiers finally let her go. As soon as all guests recognized the new visitors, the music instantly stopped, all chatter quieted, everyone's gaze was focused solely on the unwelcome intruders. The sergeant cleared his throat and proclaimed:
"As members of elite division, we are operating under the authority of the chancellor or his trusted councilmen. This house is to be searched and fully inspected, due to his owner Lord Emilio Benevento presently being held prisoner on the charges of murdering chancellor Jenoah Scordato. This party is over!"
Besides these words, Maria heard nothing else. All the sound drowned in the echo of this horrific announcement. Emilio rushed towards the guards, waving his hands, shouting something, all the rest started chaotically moving around, but Maria heard none of it. When the last words finally settled in her brain, she quietly gasped and fell to the floor. "Father…"