Excerpts

1Florence, June 15, 1300, toward midnightHE HAD filled several sheets of paper with his fine script, and now the candle on the table burned low. Several hours must have passed since he had started writing his account. He broke off to read over what he had set down.He felt drained. A migraine pounded in his temples, and sleep was still a long way off.Of course, this is how it is. The opposite theory defies reason and the facts, he muttered, passing a hand across his forehead.On the table stood a pitcher and two goblets. He poured water from the pitcher into one of the goblets until it overflowed, spilling to the ground, where it formed a puddle and then a little stream that trickled along the irregular bricks until it seeped into a crack and disappeared from view.It flows downward. It must flow downward, he said aloud. And the ghost that stood before him nodded in agreement.OUTSIDE, something broke the perfect silence of the night. Heavy steps approached his door, accompanied by a metallic din like the rattling of tin plates or naked swords. His hand flew to the dagger that he always carried with him, in a pocket concealed inside his garment.Armed men at his door, at that hour of night. How much time had passed since the curfew bell had sounded?His eyes sought a sign, any sign that would restore his sense of time, but the dark sky beyond the narrow window showed no trace of dawn. He rose and extinguished the candle, then crouched beside the doorjamb, holding his breath.Outside, the clanking continued, a sound like soldiers milling about. His hand tightened around the handle of his weapon. He heard two dull thumps at the door, and then a harsh voice calling his name.Messer Durante?Dante Alighieri, poet of Italy and now prior of Florence, bit his lip, uncertain what to do next. San Piero should be under the watch of the priory guards, especially at night. The ceremony in which he had been formally invested had just taken place two days ago. Were those scoundrels betraying him already?Messer Durante, are you in there? Open the door.He must not hesitate. Perhaps his powers were required for the public good. He hastened to don the stiff square biretta cap with its long veil, and put the gold signet ring engraved with lilies on his index finger. Then, after carefully arranging the folds of his garment to resemble a Roman toga, such as he had seen on the statues in Santa Croce, he lifted the latch.A short, thickset man stood before him, dressed in chain mail that fell to below his knees. Over it, instead of the usual tabard with its emblazoned lily, he wore a coat of armor made of metal plates joined by leather thongs. His head was encased in a cylindrical helmet, like those worn by crusaders. A sword was strapped to his shoulder, and two daggers made a fine display on his girdle.What do you want, you rogue? Dante spoke harshly. It is forbidden to go about the city at this hour. Only brigands and pickpockets dare to violate t Excerpted from The Mosaic Crimes: A Dante Alighieri Mystery by Giulio Leoni All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.