“So out of kindness you put yourself in peril for a friend,” said the doge with the hint of a smile. “ ‘Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends,’ ” the doge quoted to me. “Release Antonio from his bonds.”

The bailiffs moved quickly, released the merchant, and restored his shirt to him.

“I see,” said I, nodding, watching Antonio rub the blood back into his wrists. “You have lovable friends, indeed, Antonio. I have recommended them to a dark lady I know, who very much enjoyed their humors. Oh, and your friend as well, Iago—I think you saw her flirting with your friend Rodrigo in Corsica.”

Whatever Antonio was going to say, he stopped before it left his gob, and he looked at Iago as if the soldier would have some explanation.

“The fool is mad with grief,” said Iago. “Who knows what drunken depths he has sunk into since we last saw him? Pray, let us end this his raving, dismiss this court, and send good Antonio on his way.”

“Aye,” said I. “Let justice be done, let us get on with our day. Let Iago’s treason to his commander and Antonio’s treason to the church and the state be forgiven, as is your way, and let them get on with bringing you into a bloody war that the Venetian people neither want, nor can afford.”

“What war?” said the doge. “Even if there was some plot, as you describe, a single member of the council could not bring us to war, nor the general of our forces.”

“But they don’t know that, Your Grace. These two nitwits, in all their conspiring, didn’t know the one part of the plan that their dead partner knew.’ ”

I pulled a parchment from my jerkin and handed it to the bailiff. “I found this, in Brabantio’s study at Belmont.”

“What is it?”

“It is a very detailed receipt of an order for a hat, Your Grace.”

The bailiff looked over the paper and nodded, handed it to the clerk, who also nodded.

“Tell me, Your Grace, does anyone else wear a great gold-trimmed codpiece on his head like you?”

“The ducal corna may be worn only by the doge, and each is buried with him.”

“Then why do you think Brabantio was having one made?”

The doge looked to the others on the council. “Did you know of this?”

They were all innocent babes tumbling out of the bulrushes with surprise.

“Your clerk can confirm that is Brabantio’s hand, I assure you. In his study you will also find a bill of lading for the cargo on Antonio’s recently lost ships. Oak from France and England, slaves from above the Black Sea, steel and finished blades from Toledo. All bound for Alexandria and Damascus. To the hands of the Muslims.”

“There are no such bills,” said Antonio. “Brabantio had nothing to do with my cargo.”