“If I commanded the wealth to purchase a senator, I wouldn’t need a war to pad my fortune. And none of the existing five council members favors our cause; they were all stung by the defeat to the Genoans. I fear our cause is lost.”

“Not if we can retain Brabantio’s seat.”

“Perhaps a year ago we might have put a candidate up for vote, spread our bribes around, but when the doge declared senate seats inheritable, our chances were lost. Brabantio’s seat would go to his eldest son, but since he has no son, it will go to the husband of his eldest— Oh my.” Antonio ducked out of the soldier’s embrace and backed away.

“It goes to the Moor,” said Iago. “Brabantio’s senate seat will go to Othello.”

Antonio looked around, hoping his friends might magically appear out of the crowd to rescue him from Iago’s wrath, which the soldier wore in a hardened scowl. “If you’d like, you can go kill the spice merchant, now. I’m not much for killing, but I’ll make a splendid witness.”

Iago held up a finger and Antonio fell silent. “If the first daughter’s husband will not do, we must make the second daughter the first.”

“Portia?”

“Aye, she knows us. She trusts us, she would do our will.”

“But she is not married, and Othello and Desdemona are even now on Corsica. Surely the doge will call them back.”

“Call his general from the field? We shall see. But word will be sent with a trusted lieutenant. Can you find a suitor to Portia to be our senator?”

“I know someone—the young man I mentioned, Bassanio, would be perfect—he has his eye on Portia already. He is handsome and controllable, and he owes me.”

“Good, arrange it. I will see to Desdemona and the Moor. I am off to the doge, then I’ll arrange the journey to Corsica.”

“But how do you know the doge will send you?”

“Did I not tell you, Antonio, that my own wife serves as one of Desdemona’s ladies?”

“No. You sent her there?”

“When the Moor chose Michael Cassio as his second in command over me, I had to keep friendly eyes upon them.”

“Well planned, Iago. What will you do in Corsica?”

“Do not ask, good merchant, if you wish to stay a clean and honorable man.”

“Oh, I do. I do.”

“Then I’m off to the senate, with the news,” said the soldier.

“Wait, Iago.”

“Yes.”

“If money is my charm, and you have none, and power was Brabantio’s offer, and you have none, what do you bring to this enterprise to justify a third of the profits?”

“Will,” said Iago.

“Well, get on with it, thou shit-breathed carbuncle! I don’t have all day.”