La Diciannovesima Storia: Il Mondo Non Aspetta Nessuno
(The Nineteenth Story: The World Waits for No Man)
The man known as Noblesse Oblige kept a ground eating pace along the narrow Venetian streets. It was no simple task. Canals hedged the limestone streets on one-side, and on the other there were two story buildings bricked of the same stone. The city appeared almost golden in the dawn's early rays. Where instead, during the late afternoon with the shadows at their longest, the light turned the brickwork into bleached bone. It was magnificent, but a far sight short of the grandeur of Paris.
The markets were alive with early morning activity, and Noblesse rode the current of traffic, blending amongst the pedestrians milling together like schools of fish. Craftsmen kept to craftsmen, the merchants to their ilk, and the nobility floated along like brocaded squirrelfish. Noblesse skirted wide of a flock of Cardinals, their red robes swept the road. It was no small wonder how the bricks remained white despite the congested foot-traffic.
By some miracle, Lucentio decided to remain behind at tavern along the wharf. On some other day, Noblesse would have taken no small amount of pleasure in this surprising turn of events. How rare it was that the vile little man deferred to him. A palpable relief filled him. All was finally as it should be. Nearly all, he conceded. There was much that still lay beyond his grasp. Not anything of Lucentio's, surely, for Noblesse held little interest for anything which belonged to that man. He chased after far more than a few ships and an outlaw's warrant. A day would come when he would return to his beloved France and claim what was his, if not by virtue of birthright, but most assuredly by virtue of ability. He would see his house returned to the prestige of bygone days. However much their father groomed his eldest son, Germain would never rise to the challenge. That one did not possess the skill for the Great Game, or the stomach to place the bets. Let the man grovel at the feet of priests if that was all he cared to do. For Noblesse, few other pursuits were quite as satisfying as weaving his clever plots.
Noblesse marched onwards. Urchins scurried from beneath his grim frown. He did not intend it to be so, but his destination burned anxiously in his veins. He absently fingered the invitation in his pocket. The Doge seemed eager enough for the knowledge he could impart, but Noblesse was distinctly aware of the chance he was walking straight into a trap. One of the reasons, he surmised, that Lucentio was particularly eager to follow Noblesse's suggestions, for once. Perhaps, Lucentio was not half the fool Noblesse believed him to be.
The word 'brazen' could hardly do justice to Noblesse's actions. Few pirates- he hated to count himself among their number, but the fact remained he crewed upon just such a ship- dared to seek an audience with any government official, much less one who spearhead a multinational coalition against exactly that profession. Yet, how could he overlook such a ripe opportunity to advance the interests of his captain? Noblesse would be lying if he claimed that were his only intention. If he managed to earn the favor of such a powerful man as the Doge, he may stand to shave years off his exile. It was not as if Lucentio's foolish, single-minded ambition to ruin his sister was mutually exclusive from Noblesse's own goal.
Noblesse turned sharply, facing the wrought-iron filigree that heralded the Doge's manse. It was a sprawling compound, paved in crisp white flagstones that put the limestone streets to shame. Two armed soldiers stood sentry at the gates, swiftly barring entrance with crossed pikes. Their appraising gaze slid across him suspiciously. Noblesse knew he hardly looked the part of a noble seeking audience with the Doge, whatever the facts may be. He cringed to remember the luxurious lace and velvet doublets of his youth, and how greatly he now missed their absence. Yet another insult he laid at Germain's feet.
"All those without letters are barred entry from the Doge's estate," the guard informed as Noblesse pressed closer to the barricade.
"Lucky, I have just the thing," Noblesse said coldly, snapping open the invitation before their faces. When they leaned closer to inspect it, he pulled it away, tucking it back into his coat pocket protectively.
"So it seems," the guard said. He still had the audacity to seem doubtful, but the pikes slid away, and Noblesse walked through the gates, schooling the sneer from his handsome features.
Double doors opened to a vast foyer. A crystal chandelier above the grand staircase caught the morning light, scattering rainbows across the marble below his feet. A servant dressed in burgundy livery appeared to receive him. He held open his hand expectantly, and Noblesse reluctantly laid the invitation in the man's outstretched hand. He glanced at Noblesse with an arched brow as he read the words on the exquisite parchment, and nodded slowly. The silent exchange unsettled Noblesse to some degree, but he followed the servant deeper into the manse. Up the stairs and down a puzzling network of paneled hallways, until they stopped at tall double doors. In a sweeping gesture, the servant ushered him into a shadowed study. The dark wood paneling swallowed the light, and it took Noblesse quite some time to adjust to the dimness within the chambers. For all the lovely furniture, Noblesse could not tear his eyes from the man standing beside the unlit fireplace. His every move, however small, was accompanied by the soft whisking sound of his green velvet robes. Noblesse instantly knew him for the Doge, a much more severe man than his title suggested. There seemed very little that was serene about him. His face was cut from hard planes that would remain unaffected by even the strongest blow. Severity, the kind of expression that brooked no argument and had little and less patience for fools.
"Your informant has arrived, His Serenity," the servant intoned meekly. The Doge pointed his dagger stare at Noblesse, and he could feel himself withdraw as if to hide himself from the scrutinous gaze of the Most Serene Doge.
"Julian du Lain, son of Gaspard du Lain," the Doge said quietly. For all the harshness of his expression, his voice was smooth like glass.
Noblesse's eyes widened until whites could be seen all around. An icy pit coiled around his stomach, and he barely squeaked out, "Just so, your Serenity."
"A middling house, once renowned as the Spider of Rouen. Did you really think to fool me, with such a pathetic ruse, Noblesse Oblige?" The Doge accentuated Noblesse's assumed identity, and Noblesse swallowed roughly behind a weak smile. "It appears the skill of House du Lain has seen more fortunate times than these."
"N-no ruse was intended. Your humble servant lives to serve," Noblesse stammered.
"Of course. You all do, until you find it more profitable to do otherwise. Such is the story with all pirates," The Doge said icily. "To the matter at hand. I will hear you, this once. And if I am satisfied with your usefulness, you may leave here with all your pieces still intact."
The Doge's placid stare bored into Noblesse, and he could barely keep the assurances of undying loyalty from spilling from his lips. He bit his lip, and carefully, cautiously intimated his knowledge of Amica del Diavolo to the dignitary before him. The Doge silently sipped his spiced wine, nodding periodically for Noblesse to continue. The younger man talked on and on, until his voice grew hoarse. The fool girl had laid the entire plan at Lucentio's feet, and Noblesse eagerly imparted everything he knew.
"Interesting news, indeed. I suspected that Giuseppe would employ... unorthodox methods to repel me, but this news is not quite what I suspected," the Doge smiled. Smiled! "Yes, I know precisely what you are good for now. Rejoice, you have the honor to serve the Serene Doge. Destroy this interloper, Amica del Diavolo or do not deign to appear before me."
"Of course, Your Serenity. I live to serve," Noblesse said, numbly.
"Good, see that you do."