Miro climbs the stairs in the old villa, crosses the large gathering room and nods to the two guards standing outside the double doors. One of the guards opens a door and slips in, to return a few seconds later saying, “He will see you now, my Lord”.
Miro walks up to the door glances in seeing two men in the room, a muscular man seated behind a large ornate desk and a scholarly man looking out the window.
“Mio Padre, you wished to see me?”
“Yes, yes, Casimiro please come in. We have matters to discuss”
Miro enters, closing the door behind him and walks to stand in front of the desk. He looks up at the painting behind the desk of his great grandfather sitting in this same room behind a somewhat less pretentious desk.
“Giordano Maenza, your friend Paulo’s father has wronged me for the last time. The Maenza family has been refusing to pay for our guards and has attempted to hire some guards instead from Ortensio Casella. You need to deal with him publicly in the market next Sabato. Permanently.”
“Mio Padre, but he is my best friend’s padre! He will never forgive me.”
The other somewhat younger man by the window turns, “Il mio fratellino, nostro padre has given you his decision. That decision is final. You may leave.”
Miro turns, throws the door open and stalks out ignoring the look exchanged between the two guards. He quickly walks down the hall to a door leading into a private sitting room, locks the door, opens the window and climbs out, slowly working his way up to the roof and around to the another window where he climbs down to listen in on the conversation.
“… to kind with him, he has not learned respect, patience or humility.”
“Enough, enough!!! If you speak out of place again, I will be forced to put you in your place.”, Lord Lorenzini pauses, “Miro is mio figlio no more, I must disown him, I have been left with no choice in the matter.”
“Mio Padre, I know I spoke harshly about him but must it come to this?”
“Yes, now leave me.”
On Sabato, Miro walks carefully through the crowd, sensing the energy of the city on market day. Miro sees Signore Maenza, just up ahead looking over a cart with fresh fish. Getting up close behind his target, he thrust his dagger deep into the back as he grabs his target’s neck and pulls him down the ground. Just as he lays the dying body down, Paulo turns the corner.
“I found the spices…”, Paulo goes white as he looks up from his father to Miro eyes.
Miro leaves the dagger and turns and runs from the crowd. Hearing calls for guards in the distance. He exits the market with the guards on his tail but is able to hop up on a barrel, grab a sign post and swing up onto a wall. He jumps down the other side and rolls in a somersault bumping into the legs of a priest.
“I offer my humble apologies, Sacerdote, let me help you up.”, Miro offers his hand and helps the priest up to his feet, “Do you have time for a quick confession, Sacerdote? Please forgive me for I have sinned, well in fact I’m in the progress of one right now, and the chances aren’t good for the next few days either.”
“There he is right over there!”, the guards point as they come around the corner.
“Sorry Sacredote, but I must be on my way.”
Miro turns the corner, and keeps running. There are a few men standing around a square, one of them a well dressed man with wavy brown hair swinging a rapier around as if practicing. Miro looks back to see if the guards are still following and looks forward only as he tumbles right into the well dressed man who seems to have practiced his back-pedal.
“Oh, you must forgive me, I don’t know what it is with me today and running into people.”, Miro once again offers his hand to help up his latest victim and then hands him his rapier, “What are… is this… are you waiting for a duel? Is he your second? It can’t be. I will be your second.”
“No, no, really I already have a second and the dual is about to start in any minute, ah here they are now.”
“No, I must insist, you come to my country and I knock you to the ground. You must let me make ammends. Here let me hold your cloak, so it doesn’t inconvenience you in your dual.”, Miro grabs the cloak and throws it around his own shoulders as Giuseppe di Pietragalla walks up.
“So Francisco will you be running away in fear from this duel as usual? How will we fight blades or pistols?”
The guards come to the corner, look over and don’t see Miro, “He must have gone this way”, one guard says pointing in the opposite direction.
“Blades, to first blood”, says Francisco.
“And who is your second?”
“Casimiro Lorenzini, at your service.”, Miro announces as he throws back the hood of the cloak. Giuseppe’s second takes a step backwards.
“You can’t even find friends of your own, you’ve had to hire a second”, Giuseppe accuses Francisco, “and will the seconds fight?”
“Of course the seconds will fight, won’t we Luca?”, Miro says to Giuseppe’s second.
“Umm, ahh… yes my Lord”, says Luca.
The fight with Luca goes quickly, Luca moves his arm towards Miro’s blade perhaps intentionally getting a minor wound. Giuseppe and Francisco’s fight goes a little longer and Miro wonders if he’ll have to intervene when Giuseppe gets angry.