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The members were seated in order of rank. Lorenzo sat in the place of honor at his right. Niccolò, a famous Florentine who’d been a chancellor of the city when he was human, sat next to Lorenzo. Aoibhe was seated to Niccolò’s right.
Across the aisle and to the Prince’s left, sat Maximilian, Pierre, and Ibarra.
“There are a number of important matters that must be addressed.” The Prince’s tone was brisk. “Regular business will be tabled until our next meeting.
“Aoibhe.” The Prince’s eyes met hers and she stood.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Tell me about the feral.”
Aoibhe’s brown eyes slid to Ibarra’s and a look passed between them.
“Last night Ibarra and I happened upon a feral in Santo Spirito.”
Her colleagues remained quiet, despite her troubling announcement, for the news had already reached their ears.
“For the benefit of the council members, please tell us what you saw.” The Prince focused his gaze on Ibarra, his expression harsh.
“The feral killed a human in the piazza. When we approached, it attacked. I beheaded it and we took the body and that of the human outside the city to be burned.”
“Pierre.” The Prince turned his gaze to the Consilium member in charge of human intelligence.
The Frenchman stood and bowed. “Yes, my prince.”
“What of the police?”
“The dead human was an Interpol agent who was doing surveillance on a woman in Santo Spirito. I’m told the woman is being watched in connection with a theft at the Uffizi.”
At this the Consilium members murmured among themselves.
“And?” the Prince prompted.
“The investigation is now focusing on organized crime, following our suggestion that the policeman was knifed in the piazza and his body taken. The police are planning to interview the woman to see if she has any information in connection with the agent’s disappearance.”
The Prince carefully controlled his reaction. “Remove the woman from the police records and implicate the Russians. They’ve grown arrogant and fat in recent years. It will be amusing to see them scrambling. A war between the Mafia and the Russians will distract the police from these concerns.
“What of the human witnesses?”
“All have been attended to, my lord. The record consistently reflects reports of a knife attack. Those who resisted mind control have been dealt with.”
“Are you sure?”
Pierre looked confused. “Of course, my lord.”
“There’s no room for error,” he warned.
“Certainly not, my lord.”
“It’s clear this trouble could have been prevented had the feral not entered the city.” The Prince glared at Ibarra before returning his attention to Pierre.
“Am I to understand that the feral Aoibhe disposed of is the same one you saw the other night?”
“I cannot say, my lord. Certainly there haven’t been any other reports of ferals in the area and no other unexplained killings.”
The Prince lifted his eyebrows. “None? The newspaper is reporting that several bodies were found by the river. What of that?”
Pierre’s blue eyes went wide.
“Several bodies?” he repeated.
The Prince nodded curtly.
“I’m sorry, my lord. I know of no such finding. I will speak with our contacts as soon as possible and discover what is known.”
“A sad state of affairs when you don’t know what’s going on with the police, Pierre.”
“The matter will be rectified immediately and our police informant will be dealt with.” Pierre bowed low and withdrew to his seat.
“What of my lieutenant? Lorenzo, did you know about the bodies?”
Lorenzo stood, adopting a chastened posture. “No, my prince.”
The Prince huffed in frustration.
“Am I to dissolve the council in view of these failures?”
The council members shifted uneasily in their chairs.
He turned his attention to the head of security. “Ibarra, what has been done to locate the feral Pierre saw?”
The Basque stood, his expression tight.
“We increased the number of patrols. We’ve also organized searches of the city and the catacombs. The feral has not been found, which leads me to believe that the one we disposed of is the one Pierre saw.”
“A convenient conclusion. What of our borders?”
“I’ve spoken with all those on duty last night and there were no sightings of ferals nor was there evidence of any breach. The feral must have been hiding within the city. Perhaps the bodies of which you spoke belonged to him.”
“Perhaps.” The Prince’s expression shifted and he glared. “As a Consilium, you’ve all grown lax.”
He turned his attention back to Ibarra.
“Our borders were breached by the Venetians, under your predecessor. His ashes are now fertilizing an obliging field. Now the border has been breached by at least one feral, and your patrols knew nothing of it.”
Ibarra curled his hands into fists. “With respect, that’s a hasty conclusion, my lord. We don’t know the feral came through the border. With a full investigation, I can—”
“You can do nothing,” the Prince snapped. “You’re relieved of your duty and of your position on the Consilium.”
The other council members began murmuring and looking at one another.
“Silence,” he hissed. “Our survival requires security. Because of Ibarra’s failure, our city is threatened. Niccolò will assume control of the borders and the patrols, along with his other duties as head of intelligence, effective immediately.”
At this, the Florentine stood and the Prince addressed him.
“I want the patrols increased, I want their schedule varied, and I want daily reports. See to it I am not disappointed.”
Niccolò bowed. “Yes, Prince.”
The ruler continued barking out instructions.
“Maximilian, redouble your efforts at training the younglings. Aoibhe, see that more human beings are transformed so as to expand our numbers.
“And I expect a full investigation of those bodies, Pierre.” The Prince jerked his chin in his direction.
“You would replace me because of one feral?” Ibarra took a step closer to the Prince. “It’s possible it’s been in the city for decades. It’s possible it’s one of our own gone mad.”
“So you recognized it?” the Prince mocked.
Ibarra didn’t answer, his face a mask of fury.
“It wasn’t one of ours,” Aoibhe answered quickly. “It was an older feral. I can’t imagine it was in the city long. We’d have had more than several bodies piling up.”
Ibarra cursed Aoibhe in Basque, using extremely derogatory terms.
“Enough!” the Prince growled. “Ibarra of the Euskaldunak, you are hereby banished from the city of Florence.
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“Aoibhe and Niccolò, escort Ibarra from the council chambers and remain with him until sunset. Take a detachment of guards with you and escort him to the border. If he resists, kill him.”
The Prince dismissed them with a wave of his hand and turned toward Lorenzo.
“See that the banishment is publicized among the citizens and that it is strictly adhered to.”
Niccolò and Aoibhe exchanged a look and moved to flank Ibarra.
“There was no breach.” Ibarra spoke through his teeth. “I would have heard of it. It would have been reported.”
The Prince didn’t bother looking in his direction. “If you return, you will be executed.”
Ibarra cursed. “Our borders are sound. Our patrols our vigilant; I trained them myself. If the feral came from outside, someone must have helped it enter the city.”
“That’s preposterous,” said Aoibhe. “Who would do such a thing?”
Ibarra gave her a hard look. “The Venetian informer. We were never able to discover who sold the schematics of our old security systems. He must still be in the city, trying to wreak havoc. How else was the feral able to slip past our patrols?”
“An expedient excuse,” Lorenzo commented. “Can you produce evidence of this?”
“No, but I will.”
The Prince lifted his hand and all grew silent.
“Ibarra, you’ve had two years to find the traitor. You investigated everyone who knew of the weakness in our security systems and yet you were unable to discover which of them betrayed us. I have no confidence in your ability to discover the traitor now. You have failed in your duties and are lucky to be leaving the principality with your head. Get out of my sight.”
The Prince nodded at Niccolò and Aoibhe, who began escorting Ibarra to the door.
Ibarra cursed as he was led away, shouting his displeasure at the Prince and the Consilium.
When he was halfway down the aisle, he flew to the nearest wall and tore a sword from its hooks. Brandishing it with both hands, he sprinted toward the throne.
In an instant, the Prince was on his feet.
“Take one more step and it will be your last.”
Ibarra ignored the old one’s warning and ran toward him, lifting the sword.
Lorenzo retrieved a matching sword from a nearby suit of armor and tossed it toward the Prince.
