Poco started to wave but Dante caught him by the wrist. This was not the time to draw attention. Antonia watched as Pietro edged through the crowd, eyes fixed on young Capulletto, face full of empathy for his friend.
She stole another glance at Dante, and couldn't help giving his arm a little squeeze. He patted her hand as they listened to Capulletto rant. Antonia knew dire events were transpiring in front of her, but she couldn't help smiling as she watched.
Across the room, Pietro didn't feel at all like smiling. His thoughts would have shocked his sister. Damn Mari, damn him straight to Hell! Come on, Antony! Stand up, roar! That's the only way to get past this. Get angry, then get on with your life!
But Antony sat entirely still, his head down. Pietro was sure he wasn't hearing a word his father said. Old Ludovico didn't falter, his voice filling the hall as he cried, "And as for the cupidity of the Montecchi clan, we see now how old money can buy its way into any privilege. No doubt there was heavy bribery of young Carrara to give the girl away to the puffed-up stripling-"
Pietro halted close to the Capitano's dais, the crowd moving aside for the combined presence of a war hero, an astrologer, and his demon-like servant. Mercurio ranged near the other hounds, including his father, Jupiter. They sniffed then ignored each other.
Pietro had been in the Domus Nuova only twice before. It was rare that Cangrande used this chamber for anything but business of state. For internal communal affairs he favored his loggia or the offices he kept in the Giurisconsulti. But today Cangrande had to deal out justice, and be seen to do so.
"What of our rights?" Capulletto was shouting. "Are we not as worthy of the protection of the law as the lowest citizen of this nation? Does an ancient line have more rights than one new to the state? Have we not proved our worth here? If there is any who deserves favor in the eyes of Verona's fathers, it is my son. Antony rode to Verona's defense before he was even a citizen. He earned his citizenship with his blood — blood spilled beneath the walls of Vicenza!" He was speaking well — he'd obviously spent time in the courts. As advocate or client? Pietro wondered.
As the 'Little Capuan' (Apt, Father!) railed on, Pietro turned his gaze to Cangrande. If the Capitano was angry, he didn't show it. Every few moments he would lean right to discuss something with Passerino Bonaccolsi, and once he conversed with Il Grande, seated on the Scaliger's left.
One august personage Cangrande did not consult was Gargano Montecchio. The father of the "bride-thief" sat rigidly on a bench with the other nobles of the city. No one spoke to him, nor would they until the Capitano made his ruling on the affair. Last night he was full of joy, thought Pietro sadly. Now he's aged a thousand years. Damn it, Mari!
Among the cluster of Capulletti, Ludovico was spitting mad. Standing behind him, Antony's brother looked unperturbed, perhaps even a little smug. As for Antony himself, his face was blank, eyes glazed, a slight crease across his forehead as if he couldn't get his mind around it. Until he did, there was no room for anger. Just shock and confusion.
Ludovico had enough outrage for them both. "Was not my son knighted by the Scaliger's own hand just yesterday? Did he not race valiantly in the horse Palio? And was he not inches away from winning the foot Palio when the bride-thief got in his way? Did not the Scaliger himself confer upon our family the right to an ancient and respected title? Is this the show of favoritism Verona grants its citizens? To have wives and daughters stolen away, married off to foppish youths who bathe in perfume?!" He was no longer speaking to the Scaliger. He was playing to the crowd, trying to swing public opinion his family's way.
It did not appear that Capulletto would run himself out any time soon, so when he stopped to hack his phlegm into a napkin the Scaliger spoke. "We are, as you have pointed out, aware of all this, Monsignor Capulletto. I assure you, I am not staying my hand in this matter. I only wait for the parties involved to arrive. In the meantime," he said, raising his eyes to the crowd, "I have a decree. As in the days when my honoured father served this state as Capitano del Populo and Podestà of the Merchants, from this time forward private dueling is forbidden." There was an unhappy murmur in the crowd. "The settling of quarrels may not be determined by the sword, but must be litigated through the courts! This is not just true within the city walls, but in all the lands under Veronese stewardship!"
Pietro saw the purpose at once. Cangrande wanted no fresh outbreaks of feuding between families in his territories. The law his brother Bartolomeo had repealed a dozen years before to allow the final duel in the Capelletti-Montecchi feud was once more enacted. Those sharing family names could not exact revenge for wrongs to their kin. This struck Pietro as a cruel twist of fate. Father was right. Ignazzio said it too. Even Mari's father. Names have power.
But Cangrande's new law went further, entirely ruling out trial by combat as a legal remedy. Several lawyers piped up to ask questions. Not that they were angry. Quite the contrary, it was a boon for their practices. If trial by combat was illegal, citizens would have no recourse but to hire lawyers to settle their differences.
Shouting down the lawyers, Ludovico raised an objection. "You're doing this to stop my son from regaining his honour!"
Cangrande shook his head. "No, I am making sure of the safety of my citizens. I am also protecting the honour of your son, and your family. You were not here, Monsignor Capulletto, when there was a feud inside Verona's walls. The participants put the public good aside in order to redeem what they mistakenly believed to be their honour. But their honour suffered far greater stains from the public hazards they caused than any slights, real or otherwise, from another family. This law will protect all our citizens, in a number of ways."
Ludovico wasn't done objecting, but a clamour outside forestalled him. All eyes came up as six Veronese soldiers entered clad in their best armour. Between them strode Marsilio da Carrara. Chin high, he ignored the collected Veronese nobles to lock eyes with the Scaliger. Though his face was composed, there was a hint of a smirk playing across his face.
Before addressing Marsilio, Cangrande turned to Il Grande. "Giacomo da Carrara. This young man is your nephew, and not a citizen of Verona. Do you consent to his being questioned in this matter here and now, or would you rather he be questioned in a Paduan court?"
Giacomo leaned forward. "As his actions have implications for the honour of my family, he must be questioned as soon as possible. I trust both in your wisdom, lord Capitano, and in that of your noble Veronese councilors. Let him be questioned in Verona!" As the crowd's murmur of approval died away, he added, "I might put a question or two to him myself."
"As you wish." Cangrande turned the full weight of his gaze on Marsilio. "Ser Carrara, there is a story circulating that you witnessed a marriage this morning between your cousin, the lady Gianozza della Bella, and Ser Mariotto Montecchio."
"I did more than witness it," said Marsilio. "I gave the bride away."
The Capitano ignored the hushed mutterings of the crowd and the not-so-hushed voice of Ludovico Capulletto. "I see. You did this knowing that both your uncle and the girl's father had arranged another match for her?"
"I did."
"Where did this marriage take place?"
"At the private chapel of the Montecchi, in their grand estates east of Illasi."
"Who officiated?"
"Some Franciscan monk. I heard Montecchio call him Brother Lorenzo."