Blood of the Knights by B. M. Howard

Author:B. M. Howard
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Canelo
Published: 2024-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Out of the chill of the church Franca thawed a little, and Vanderville found himself describing the inquisitor’s remarks to her as they strolled towards Piazza dei Forbici.

‘By all accounts, Carpegna is some way from the hideous creatures of the Holy Office that inhabit the gothic novel,’ he told her. ‘He says that the days of torture and the rack are past.’

‘He told you that?’ she laughed dryly. ‘Is it not torture then to confine men, women in dungeons, away from their families? To keep them for years under durance vile with no means of redress or repeal? Even when they are released, broken and cowed, to crawl to church every Sunday with worms gnawing at their hearts, the threat of further duress is held over them. An unguarded comment, a neighbour’s envy, a malicious merchant, any of these is sufficient to send them back into the granite purgatory under the Vittoriosa Holy Office.’

She led the way through the market along the edge of the piazza and paused to exchange greetings with a stallholder.

‘The faults you mention are common to the institutions of unenlightened states,’ said Vanderville, who found himself preaching and disliked himself for it. ‘Evils addressed in some part by the revolution in France,’ he continued, sidestepping a shouting hawker, and ducking under a market stall. ‘In states where the French liberators find the Holy office still functioning, they empty its cells, and send the old devils packing.’

‘Then they can’t come quickly enough,’ said Franca, nimbly avoiding the hot stream of a urinating goat. ‘The sooner they release the Holy Office’s prisoners here, the better.’

‘Where do they keep them locked up?’ asked Vanderville.

‘In the cellars underneath the Holy Office, where they eat little, fast completely often, and are compelled to pray day and night. That is the sentence for those women deemed guilty of a little knowledge of herbs or plants. The men are consigned to row in the Order’s galleys. They call that punishment spanking sardines, which diminishes its terrible reputation. Sometimes the prisoners go mad or mutilate themselves so as not to be condemned to the galleys. Sometimes they simply destroy themselves.’

‘The Republic will eliminate these evils when it arrives,’ stated Vanderville confidently.

‘Donna Eva says where the church leads, the state will surely follow. And then they too will be able to lock up indefinitely anyone who does not agree with them.’

They had arrived at the limit of the market, and she paused by a grill in the ground, and frowned at animal viscera discarded around the drain, wrinkling her nose. ‘Scraps for the Fraternita,’ she said sadly. ‘If they are lucky, the stallholders leave out buckets of water for them too. On a good day, there is enough to bath Granchio’s sores. They could receive water from the Maddalene hospital, but Duccio is too proud to ask. So they use the drains.’

‘Don’t the Knights, or the sbirri have anything to say to you?’

‘The sbirri tolerate us,’ she said. ‘Because we collect the market rubbish, so it does not foul the fortress ditch.

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