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A brief description.
When Giam Bellini the rising star of Murano glassmaking falls in love with Maria Morisini it lights the fuse of an explosive
tale of betrayal and intrigue that encompasses the corrupt sixteenth century world of Venetian politics and the Court of
Queen Elizabeth I of England.
A fugitive from Venetian law, Giam becomes Master of the Crouched Friars glass-works hoping to become Glassmaker to Queen
Elizabeth, in competition with the Glass-Sellers.
His partner is assassinated by Sir Richard Urie the leader of the Glass-Sellers. Giam uncovers the Maldini Plot to put
Mary Stuart on the throne, which threatens the life of Queen Elizabeth.
Recruited by Sir William Cecil, the Queen's spy catcher Giam begins a desperate race to thwart the Maldini plotters and
rescue Maria from the clutches of his arch rival and betrayer Adrian Ragazoni, the Venetian Envoy and an ally of Maldini.
Prologue
'Get out of the way, you stupid oaf! Like a glass falling on stone, the shout shattered Giam's reverie into myriad pieces.
His startled glance revealed two pounding horses almost on top of him. The leading horse knocked out of its stride by a savage
haul on the reins, reared up in front of him, its hooves flailing the air. Avoiding them by a hairsbreadth, he received a
fierce blow from a fetlock that sent him crashing to the ground, where he lay too stunned to move.
Opening pain-blurred eyes, he was vaguely aware of someone at his side. Lifting his head he beheld two beautiful
deep brown eyes gazing anxiously at him.
'Are you hurt?' A low, musical voice enquired,
Giam tried to sit up but lay down again as pain lanced through his body.
'Are you hurt?' she repeated, but less anxiously this time, now that he'd moved.
As the pain eased, Giam opened his eyes again and studied the face carefully; afraid that if he broke the spell by
speaking this vision might disappear. The lovely eyes, high cheekbones and pale complexion were framed by golden hair entwined
with seed pearls; the bleached hair and the pearls around her neck signified her noble birth; by law, no courtesan was allowed
to wear pearls.
'Thank you for your concern, my lady,' he replied courteously sitting up gingerly. 'It was my own fault for not looking
where I was going. I'm only bruised and mostly my pride,' he said with a wry grin.
There was a rustling of silks as she stood up. 'I was afraid you would be badly hurt when we rode you down.' She
threw her arms out impulsively. 'It's such a joy to ride here on Murano, where there's space to do it!' As she turned, Giam
saw the horse and rider motionless behind her; obviously the man who had called out before the horse hit him.
'Adrian and I were racing for the gate,' she said apologetically, indicating the other horseman. 'I was concentrating
on staying in front and I didn't see you until you stepped out.'
This is no ordinary lady, Giam thought. Noble ladies don't ride out with a man unchaperoned; nor beat them in horse
races! He tried to stand, but his unsteady legs let him down. As he staggered, she put an arm round his waist to support
him and Giam almost collapsed again at the perfumed warmth of her body.
The rider of the second horse dismounted and strutted towards them. He was about the same age as Giam, or possibly
a year or two older. He wore knee breeches and doublet, with a heavily trimmed satin and damask cloak slung carelessly across
his shoulders. The hilt of his sword and scabbard were lavishly encrusted with rubies and diamonds, obviously a nobleman
of some substance.
With a scowl of disapproval, he took a proprietary hold on the Lady's upper arm and tried to pull her away. 'My Lady
Maria, you should not be concerning yourself with clumsy peasants. Leave me to deal with this fellow.'
The Lady resisted. 'Let go of me, Adrian!' she cried struggling to release her arm. 'I'll not be handled, or ordered
about like this!'
Incensed, Giam moved forward quickly his hand on the hilt of his sword, 'Take your hands off her,' he cried, or you'll
have me to answer to.'
They confronted each other like fighting cocks and then the nobleman releasing the ladies arm, stepped back and drew his
sword forcing Giam to do the same for his own protection.
'No, Adrian! You must not fight,' the Lady cried out in dismay. 'He is no common vagabond from whom I need protection.'
The nobleman ignored her and with a sneer, lunged at Giam without even the courtesy of a salute. Angered by this
breach of etiquette Giam kept his temper and parried the thrust. Concentrating on defence at first, Giam parried his opponent's
skilled, but overconfident lunges and ripostes with relative ease. Gaining the measure of his man he increased the tempo
and direction of his thrusts, his blade flickering like a snake's tongue. Eventually, with another dazzling change of direction,
Giam's sword point tore through the sleeve of his opponent's doublet, drawing blood. With a curse, his opponent withdrew,
clapping a hand to his injured arm.
The Lady immediately stepped between them. 'This has gone far enough. Put up your swords!' she cried imperiously.
It was a risky move, Giam thought in admiration, but it had the desired effect. Both men obeyed, Giam with a sense
of relief, his opponent, he could see, plainly furious.
'You are a very skilled swordsman, sir,' she said turning to Giam, with a warm smile. 'The first blood is yours.
It was generous of you to stop when you had the advantage. Thank you too, for your earlier concern. Don't worry about Adrian;
I'm used to his bullying ways. They don't intimidate me.'
She turned to the nobleman. 'Heed my warning, Adrian,' she said icily. 'Never handle me in that fashion again, or you'll
regret it. I'm not a servant to be ordered around.' She bestowed on him a haughty, scornful look. 'And next time, when
you draw your sword, I'd advise you to take more care in choosing your opponent. A less generous one would have spitted you,
instead of merely tearing your doublet and giving you a scratch.'
Giam couldn't help grinning, but the lady had stern words for him, too. 'As for you, sir,' she said, 'perhaps it would
be advisable to look where you're going in future.' Her words were censoring, but the dimpled smile took much of the sting
from her words. 'What is your name, sir?'
'Giacomo Bellini at your service, my lady,' he replied with a deep formal bow.
'Bellini!' The voice of the now red-faced young man rang with contempt. 'You're the son of that fool of a nobleman
who married a commoner.'
'My father, Senator Eduardo Bellini, is no fool, sir,' replied Giam proudly. 'Have a care how you speak of him, or
I'll be forced to teach you some manners, yet again.'
'I need no commoner to teach me manners. My family is one of the oldest in Venice.'
'Then you'll be familiar with the fact that my name is inscribed in the Libro D'Oro,' said Giam. 'My mother may have
been the daughter of a glass-maker, but by decree of the Senate I am of noble birth.'
'In the Libro D'Oro you may be, but you will always be a commoner. Noble birth can only be bestowed by generations,
not by a line in a book written by fools.'
Giam forced himself to answer calmly, out of respect for the lady.
'It is interesting that you consider your peers to be fools, for that would make you one too. In any case,' he went
on, with a smile that failed to reach his eyes, 'since your breeding must have taught you the proper way of introduction,
it would be appropriate to do so now. Should we fight again; at least I will know whom it is I've killed!'
Extract from
THE CRYSTAL SHIP
Book Two of the Glassmaker Series
A brief description.
Jacob Bell is once more recruited by Sir William Cecil and Walsingham to help Sir John Hawkins rescue his men from the
Spanish Inquisition. At the same time, the Ring, the apprentices who supply Jacob with information, discover a plot against
Queen Elizabeth led by a Florentine banker, Count Ridolfi.
Plot and counterplot become intertwined and Jacob is plunged into a dangerous world, as he becomes deeply involved with
the Catholic plotters.
Throughout this time,he struggles to clear himself with the Venetian authorities and he tries to rekindle his love for
Maria, who with her child, have inherited his former rival Ragazoni's estates.
Prologue
Giam looked about in amazement at the scenes of folly and madness all around him as he moved along the street towards
the Luciano glass-works. The masked revellers, many dressed as harlequins or clowns were thronging the street and musicians
were playing loud extravagant music as the crowd gambolled from one place to the next. It was a time of license and the
mountebanks had their stages at every street corner.
It was open house during carnival, all places being free to enter except some production establishments, which were forced
to use guards stop the crowds from entering for their own safety. This often resulted in the guards being pelted with eggs
filled with scented water. Except that in some cases, the water was not so sweet. The two men on duty outside the Luciano
warehouse had suffered mightily from eggs of the less sweet kind and had been lured a little way from their post seeking retribution
from the culprits. Seizing his chance, Giam slipped into the warehouse and stood motionless in the deepest shadow away from
the door, where his raven's wing coloured doublet, hose and mask rendered him invisible to even a keenly searching eye.
When the revellers had passed, the two guards settled down to their posts outside again with only a cursory glance inside.
Giam cautiously emerged from the shadows and made his way to the storeroom at the rear of the warehouse. As expected, the
door was locked, but with his key, it was only the work of seconds to open it, slip inside and lock the door once more. Fortunately,
there was a little light shining in from the lanterns outside, certainly enough for one familiar with the layout. Reaching
the shelves at the rear of the room, Giam searched for the spring that activated the hidden door behind. As the shelves swung
forward with a loud squeak, Giam tensed and stood stock still, listening for any sign that he had been heard. Hearing none,
he nodded in satisfaction and unlocked the door in the wall.
Unsheathing his sword, he crept cautiously through the door into the shielding undergrowth and stood still. He froze
as a sound broke the silence, but relaxed as he recognised the cry as that of a baby. Creeping silently to where he could
see the garden room of the villa, once his, but now the home of his love Maria, he crept silently forward and peered through
the window. His heart gave a lurch as he saw her. She was bending over a cot and as he watched, she picked up the child
in a white shawl and cradled it in her arms murmuring reassuringly.
Just as Giam was about to attract her attention, the door to her room burst open and Adrian Ragazoni stormed in. 'Can't
you keep the child quiet, I can't hear myself think,' he cried angrily, seizing her by the arm and spinning her round.
Maria shook he arm from his grasped and reacted angrily. 'Have a care Adrian; I'l not be handled like that. You nearly
made me drop the baby.'
Ragazoni his face blackened with rage seized Maria by the throat tipping her head back and thrusting his face near hers.
'You're my wife now,' he sneered and I'll treat you exactly as I wish.' He stroked her face and she cowered away from him.
'What say you to trying for another baby? You know how much I enjoyed making this one,' he said pointing to the child. Releasing
her he gave a snorting laugh. 'Of course, the pleasure was entirely mine.' Maria slumped into the chair with fear etched
on her face clutching the baby protectively.
Giam, rage pounding in his head, was unaware of moving, but suddenly was confronting the sneering Ragazoni. 'Well, well,'
Ragazoni said with a snigger. 'I wondered when you would show up; you've just time to admire my son and heir before I kill
you,' he said producing two cocked pistols. 'Now drop the sword, or the first one will be for my loving wife,' he said aiming
the pistol in his right hand at her head.
Giam bent down and put his sword on the floor and as he did so, a shot rang out. Looking up at Maria in horror, fully
expecting to see her dead, he saw she was staring behind him with an expression of horror on her face, her hand over her mouth.
Spinning round, he saw his friend and partner Roberto standing there holding the side of his head, while blood ran in rivulets
down the side of his face. He slumped to the ground with a groan and lay still.
Hearing Ragazoni cursing he looked up to see he had a dagger, presumably thrown by Roberto, sticking in his left arm,
causing him to drop the still smoking pistol. Without further thought, Giam charged him, but Ragazoni seeing him coming,
fired the other pistol hitting Giam squarely in the chest. The shock at such short range stopped him in his tracks, but only
for a second. To the astonishment of Ragazoni he continued his charge and wrenching the dagger from Ragazoni's arm, thrust
it up under his ribs until it reached his black heart.
Giam gasped as the blade snapped off and he realised that it was an assassin's glass dagger he had just used. Ragazoni
gasped once, dropped to his knees with a stunned expression on his face and pitched forward to lie deathly still. Giam fell
to his knees by the side of the body and tried to draw some breath into his bruised lungs, saved from the bullet by the overlapping
plates of the brigandine he wore courtesy of Queen Elizabeth. Through the haze he could hear Maria crying over and over again,
'Wake up Jacob, wake up!' He thought it strange she was calling him Jacob; she always called him Giam.
Opening his eyes at last he found he was laying on his bed at Tottenham, with Elizabeth, Roberto's wife bending over
him and shaking his arm in alarm. 'Oh Jacob, you're awake at last,' she cried. 'I've had a terrible time trying to wake
you. You were having a nightmare and shouting out something about Roberto and Ragazoni. You looked so ill. Are you all
right now?'
Jacob shook his buzzing head and sat up, picking up the letter that was lying on the counterpane. 'It must have been
this letter from my father telling me about Maria and her baby that set me off. 'I've had the most terrible dream that was
a mixture of all of the events of the past few months.' He gratefully accepted the damp cloth that Elizabeth had fetched
from the washing stand and wiped his sweat drenched face and neck. Feeling a little better he smiled at Elizabeth. 'I'm
sorry I gave you a scare. It was a really vivid and desperate dream, but I'm recovered now. What time is it?'
Elizabeth gave him a grin. 'Long past the time we normally break fast, but we haven't eaten either. Since you must
away to London, we thought it would be pleasant to eat together before you left.'
Jacob made to throw back the sheets and grinned cheekily. 'You'd better move then while I get dressed,' he said sticking
a bare leg from under the bedclothes.
Elizabeth grinned and leered, daring him to come out. 'I'm no prude, I've seen men with no clothes on before,' she
said smugly.
'You hussy,' said Jacob in pretended disapproval. 'Get yourself off and save your lewdness for your husband.'
With an exaggerated sniff, nose in the air, Elizabeth stalked out of the room. Jacob stood up and he could hear her
chortling to herself as she went down the corridor. With a quiet chuckle, he reached for his clothes and dressed for his
trip to see Quiff; wondering what on earth was so urgent that it couldn't wait until after the weekend.
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