<strong>“Master Alessandro, sir, a word?”</strong><br/><br/>The speaker was of that particularly imposing cut of men that gave other men pause, and even the finery of his garb or the pleasantness of his speech could not dissuade one from perceiving a degree of danger about him. That nature, in combination with his sufficiently tall stature and sturdily rugged build, gave to the even moderately astute some telling hints regarding his position within the architecture of Nicoletta’s and Alessandro’s ventures. Traces of a predatory nature translated into his movements – compact and powerful, controlled, as if coiled to strike as necessary.<br/><br/>But it was not, oddly, for that reason that Vittorio the Asp (http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/3c/Marek_Venice_Vittorio.JPG) was so nicknamed. Instead, his unfortunate moniker was a product of childhood taunting; the man was rightly renowned for being so ugly as to be, to the fairer sex, a distant second choice to kissing a venomous snake. It was cruelly suggested by his rivals – though certainly not where it might be overheard - that the principal reason that Vittorio had chosen a career in his particular line of work was that it was the only possible means he might have of obtaining amenable female companionship.<br/><br/>Such detractors would, in likelihood, be shaken at the inaccuracy of such an assumption.<br/><br/>Yes, of a certainty, Vittorio was not an attractive man. As a result of a difficult birth, and instruments utilized in delivery by those not trained in or suited to the task, his face bore certain asymmetrical qualities that gave the impression of an incomplete work. Not grotesque, certainly, although perhaps that might have been easier; one cannot in conscience hold the appearance of one born deformed against them, for these were enlightened times. But rather, plain ugliness? Well that, of course, was fair to the picking.<br/><br/>Yes, all in all, Vittorio should have struggled his whole life to find companionship of a tender and willing sort, yet nothing could have been further from the truth.<br/><br/>As he made his daily rounds of their various holdings, ensuring for his master and mistress that all was as it should be, Vittorio was often forced to allocate time each day for certain numerous delays upon his rounds. It was now included as part of his routine, and one that he neither paid for nor took any particular steps or measures to pursue. Rather, on any given morning it might be an appreciative courtesan at the Grey House who might insist upon a moment of his time through adoring crimson lips, and it would be of her own eager design that those lips might greedily find their way into his lap for some time. Or at the Villas of Silk, might it not be by another sweet girl’s invitation that he was asked to offer his judgment on some new bit of lingerie, only to then almost be forced by the rules of politeness to partake of the proferred glories which those delicate garments had once covered?<br/><br/>The truth of the matter was, while not an attractive man Vittoria was adored by the courtesans and whores of the enterprises he served, for he took care of and protected them at the direct behest of his master and mistress, and did so with a fierceness and tenacity that ensured their safety almost as much by reputation as by any real action required upon his part. That he enjoyed unlimited access to almost any of the women in the houses – save Nicoletta and now Serafina herself, of course - was not a benefit of his station, but rather an expression of the adoration of the women themselves for the remarkably kind and gentle man that wrapped them all in his loving and protective arms. Nearly as dearly as the master and mistress themselves did, Vittorio viewed the ladies he served as ‘his girls’ to protect and see after, and yes, to partake of.<br/><br/>Alessandro for his part had few male friends. Men were not as a rule people that he found interesting or intriguing, and while an eminently sociable creature, he was generally disinterested in the company of other men; they just weren’t all that necessary in his world. So it was that when his dearest male companion Vittorio – one of the rare men that he actually liked and found the companionship of satisfying - appeared at the manor and asked for a moment of his master’s time, Alessandro was both delighted and curious, and gave him the full measure of his attention.<br/><br/><strong>“You may have a word and more, my good friend, and perhaps please me by sharing a meal with me as well.”</strong>At that Alessandro smiled deeply and offered a chair to his colleague, motioning to a servant that more food should be brought.<br/><br/>Over the next several minutes, as they conversed over the light fare of the mid-afternoon snack, Alessandro’s countenance never changed. He listened courteously, a picture of repose in his light yellow silks, the ones he so favored with the perfectly intricate and cunningly crafted lace, and nodded as his friend spoke.<br/><br/>Finally their discourse reached an end, and Alessandro rose.<br/><br/><strong>”Why Vittorio, my friend, you have given me pause to consider this matter. I understand you completely, of course, and both admire your ingenuity in obtaining such information so rapidly and appreciate your willingness to take upon yourself the task of looking into such a thing. Yet perhaps… perhaps you might allow me to change my wardrobe, and then we might discuss it further during a walk in the sun?”</strong><br/><br/>Vittorio selected a wedge of particularly tempting cheese and sampled it as he considered his own failure at involving the master.<br/><br/><strong>”Master Alessandro, it would be my pleasure, sir.”</strong><br/><br/>-----------------------------------------------------------------------<br/><br/>It was not long at all after that, all things considered, that the two men made to leave the estate, Alessandro now attired in a suite of deep burnt orange trimmed in tatted ecru lace at the neck and sleeves; it was overly brocaded for his normal taste, but exquisite in cut. Straightening the jacket as he moved through the house, Alessandro noted with satisfaction that his darling ladies were still in the garden and he was grateful for such fact. His change in apparel might have caught the attention of his beloved Nicoletta, were she not sufficiently distracted with the newest member of their loving household.<br/><br/>Very little did Alessandro d’Arellio do that was not by design.<br/><br/>Very little did Nicoletta Moncenigo allow to slip her attention, nor the significance of such elude her keen mind.<br/><br/>Once away from the estate, he and Vittorio made their way at a reasonable pace to a certain location known to Vittorio, that being a lovely and well-regarded restaurant popular with well-bred visitors to their fair city. It was the sort of elegant place one went not just to be fed a light first supper, but much more it was one of the establishments one went to in order to be seen being fed in the company of other respectable society.<br/><br/>Venice was Venice, was it not?<br/><br/>Upon reaching the restaurant they politely made their way to a certain table, inhabited by a fit young man in his mid-twenties and a petite and sweet-looking woman some scant years younger. By the apparel of the diners – moderately stylish yet somehow crude in comparison to that on display around them – it was apparent that they were indeed wealthy visitors and not of the city itself.<br/><br/><strong>“Herr van der Marck, is it? I beg your pardon, my good sir, but I must interrupt your meal for a moment, if I may?”</strong>At this Alessandro smiled his apologies, nodding respectfully as well to the woman he understood to be the man’s wife.<br/><br/>Puzzled, the man looked to his visitors and, recognizing neither, curiously spoke in his clipped Dutch accent.<strong>”I am he, sirs, although I’m afraid I do not know you gentlemen. And yet, I am at your disposal. What may I do for you good sirs?”</strong><br/><br/>Alessandro smiled, deeply and genuinely, for the man’s words made him glad. At his side Vittorio mirrored his employer's smile and then wandered away from the table, moving towards a gathering of young men as they gathered in a side salon.<br/><br/><strong>”I appreciate this, sir, both that you are willing to engage me in conversation and that the interruption is forgiven. You see, sir, I am Alessandro d’Arellio, the proprietor of certain establishments which provide… we shall call it ‘entertainments to assuage the passions of men’, and I believe you shall know of what it is I speak, having just yesterday been a recent client of one of my holdings, no?”</strong><br/><br/>There was still the most polite and social of smiles upon his face as he spoke, for Alessandro was a man of the times, yet his eyes had grown hard and dark as he looked upon the Dutchman. Turning to the woman as she gasped in shock and embarrassment, he spoke softly to her.<br/><br/><strong>”So that madam may understand, for it is evident that she is of a breeding and nature to which the things I speak of might not be evident, the women in my employ provide… we shall call it ‘tenderness’… to visitors with hard coin and harder loins. I do beg your apology, madam, but I wish to be plain here.”</strong><br/><br/>The young woman reddened, looking angrily to her husband and in shock at Alessandro that he spoke to her so. Diners at several of the nearby tables were now openly following the conversation, and it was apparent that their table was now the center of attention for those assembled. Beside the young wife the Dutchman’s hands clenched and he prepared to speak, but deftly Alessandro cut him off.<br/><br/><strong>”What my ladies never consent to, though, madam – ever – is the receipt of bruises. Never the willing tolerance of blows, such as one man might deliver to another man that has earned one’s anger.”</strong>His tone was still refined as he looked to the now far more chagrined Dutchman, who was beginning to understand.<strong>”And never, ever, to <em>cuts</em>.”</strong><br/><br/>At this the young woman broke Alessandro’s heart, for she wrapped her arms around herself instinctively and looked to him with clarion comprehension in her pale blue eyes, confirming that she knew of what it was he spoke.<br/><br/>Tenderly Alessandro looked to her, and smiled softly.<strong>”My dear madam, as your husband has already made himself at my disposal, I must beg your indulgence to walk with him briefly in the sun, for the afternoon is perfect for such an occasion.”</strong><br/><br/>The Dutchman again thought to intercede some word, but was startled at the return of Vittorio, accompanied by a young man of the Dutchman’s age.<br/><br/><strong>”I have taken the liberty of finding someone to accompany you, sir, as I shall accompany my good friend Alessandro here.”</strong>Vittorio smiled helpfully, and the unknown young man nodded sincerely to the Dutchman.<br/><br/>Embarrassed and angry, the Dutchman’s eyes narrowed as he rose, his ire evident.<strong>”I shall be delighted to walk with you, sir, although I am not entirely confident you shall like the topics I may wish to discuss.”</strong><br/><br/>Alessandro smiled, and presently led them from the room and into the afternoon sun, leaving the shocked young woman at her table to stare at her water glass as tears formed in her eyes.<br/><br/>--------------------------------------------------------<br/><br/>The three men walked up the low slope from the riverbank and into the view of the road, and thereby into the sight of those who might be standing in front of the restaurant where they had so recently discussed their walk together. It was there that they promptly saw the young woman with the pale and pretty eyes standing in the shade of a skillfully trimmed tree, her gaze locked upon where they had departed from view to conduct their discussion. She seemed calm, and almost resolute, and it was unclear from her initial reaction as to how she reacted to the notable absence of her husband from the group that returned from the riverside.<br/><br/>Nodding his satisfaction that the matter had been handled fairly, the hastily recruited second to the dead Dutchman took his leave of them, bowing to the woman as he did so. She watched him go without comment, but rewarded him with a shaky smile of thanks for his service.<br/><br/>Presently they reached her, and Alessandro apologetically inclined his head to his left shoulder, from which a sufficient amount of blood had leaked as to stain to his hip the deep orange of his suite; in the fading afternoon sun the red and orange together produced a remarkable deep cinnamon shade that was not entirely unattractive, and was in fact largely more successful than the orange alone had ever been. His left arm hung limply by his side, and there was a degree of discomfort clear upon his face which he was unable to fully conceal, though the effort was made for her behalf.<br/><br/><strong>”My dear lady, I beg your forgiveness, that I appear before you so.”</strong>Solemnly he regarded her, and it broke his heart a second time to see both sadness and relief in her pretty eyes.<br/><br/><strong>”What…”</strong>Her voice quavered then, soft and light in her delicately clipped accent of a far-off land. The tears in her eyes, hinted at earlier, now began in earnest as she regarded him.<strong>”What will become of me, then, sir?”</strong><br/><br/>Beside him stood Vittorio bearing the man’s purses and sword, as well as his jewelry and the papers and items of value that the dead Dutchman had been carrying, for by law they now belonged to Alessandro. Penniless and in a strange land so many miles from home, the girl already knew the answer, and her tone was pitiful as she began to accept her patently unwelcome fate, likely in the employ of the man that had killed her husband.<br/><br/>Wordlessly Alessandro used his one useful arm to collect all the items that Vittorio held, save the sword, and gave them over to the young woman. With a nod and reassuring smile he added his own purse to the pile, and was pleased but not surprised when Vittorio followed suit.<br/><br/><strong>”Whatever you do, my dear, you shall not work for me. I intend, rather, to deliver you into the care of a merchant I know, a man of character that I trust and that I know of a certainty will keep you safe and will see you home. With the resources available to you I bid you to start a new life there, and I would pray that you there find a man worthy of your affections and company, as the man I met today was so clearly not.”</strong><br/><br/>In stunned silence she regarded the two of them, and then lightly kissed each of their cheeks before shakily following them as they led her the short distance to the aforementioned merchant’s residence.<br/><br/>-----------------------------------------------------------------<br/><br/>It was only a short time later, having settled the young Dutchwoman into the merchant’s care, that Alessandro and Vittorio were walking back towards the estate. They drew some looks, for though the flow of blood from his shoulder had stopped, its effects were ruinous and easily evident upon his apparel. Wincing, Alessandro rolled his left arm in a slow windmill, and Vittorio regarded him in surprise.<br/><br/><strong>”My friend, your arm…?”</strong><br/><br/>With a shrug and a pained smile, Alessandro explained.<strong>”Painful but not all that significant. But… the poor thing lost her husband, such as he was. She had heard confirmed before her that the man was the sort of vile creature that hurt women, and she knew - from experience, it seems - precisely what that entailed. I… Well, I wanted her to at least think he had acquitted of himself favorably in the exchange.”</strong><br/><br/>Vittorio laughed lightly, relieved that his friend was in better condition than he had first believed, and expressed his approval of the kindness his master had shown the young woman.<br/><br/>In truth, the matter by the riverside had been rather one-sided, and the puncture through his shoulder was largely a product of luck rather than any real skill on the Dutchman’s part; he was no Italian, and therefore no swordsman. In comparison, Alessandro - given his nature as a professional and habitual miscreant of unrelentingly flawed character - had grown up assuming that he would likely have need of the skills with which to acquit himself with a blade, and so had spent considerable time and money over his lifetime in pursuit of such learning. That it kept his long, lean frame in well-muscled condition for those more purely libidinous physical pursuits which<em>truly</em>captivated his interests was a corollary benefit of no small worth.<br/><br/>Very little did Alessandro d’Arellio do that was not by design.<br/><br/>With a nervous smile he turned to Vittorio, though, and spoke in a conspiratorial tone as they walked.<strong>”My good friend, I thank you for your assistance this day, yet I must bid you – no word to Nicoletta of this. Let me seek the assistance of a physician before she hears of it… if it is even necessary that word of such an occurence need reach her perfect ears at all. It is true, I must confess, that perhaps I might wish to avoid a certain discussion regarding the fact that we have others in our employ that might have attended to the matters which you and I dealt with today. You understand, I am sure, that given her protective nature she might well...”</strong><br/><br/>The pained and distressed look on his friend’s face told him all that he needed to understand.<br/><br/><strong>”I see. And… yes, Vittorio. I cannot fault you for doing exactly as you did, for you would likely never hear the end of it had you not; your instincts regarding self-preservation are patently more refined than my own. Only… when did you send her word, may I ask?”</strong><br/><br/>Sheepishly Vittorio hung his head, then looked up to his friend apologetically.<strong>”The very moment when I recruited the second for the Dutchman, sir, and it was evident that the appointment would take place.”</strong><br/><br/>Alessandro nodded slowly and envisioned a familiar carriage as it raced towards them from the direction of their estate, a carriage that trailed behind it an angry whirlwind of dust that would be infinitely less tumultuous than the impending storm it carried. Alessandro sighed and then, oddly, began to chuckle uncontrollably.<br/><br/><strong>”Sir? What… what amuses you, Alessandro my friend? She will be…”</strong><br/><br/>Laughing, and then wincing at the discomfort such an act caused, Alessandro looked to his companion.<strong>”She will be herself, and I deserve no less. Only… well, perhaps some small part of this afternoon was by design, in a manner of speaking. You see, I’ve always profoundly hated the orange of this suite, but I could never be rid of it, for it was she herself who bought it for me.”</strong><br/>