I, Iago Part 21

In fact, it was so plausible as to be realistically attainable.

I would do it. Not just sit and seethe and fantasize. This was a plan that I could reasonably act on. And get results.

Suddenly I couldn't wait to get to Cyprus.

Chapter 36.

WE SKIRTED A SQUALL as we neared Cyprus. If you have had this experience of the wind and the rain, you know how miserable it was; if you haven't, find someone else to describe it to you; I do not care to dwell on it. Desdemona was sick for a few hours, with Emilia nursing her tenderly. When she recovered, she was robust as ever. That young lady had a spine to her.

FAMAGUSTA IS A panoply of man-made defenses, which begin before one even reaches the city: an enormous rock jetty delineates the harbor, beginning at the southern edge of the walled town and arching out into the water until it bends back toward the seawall at the Citadel, near the northern end of the city. The Citadel looms above everything; on the seaward side it thrusts out a wall that almost meets the jetty, the narrow harbor opening between them defended by a chain. On the landward side, the Citadel is the castle-keep from which extend the thick walls and towers surrounding the city. An enormous moat hugs the three city walls that are not seaward, a moat so deep that spring tides can reach it and turn the moat floor into brackish mud.

Incongruous with this martial aspect, the port lies outside the harbor, undefended, on the north side of the Citadel tower. It is nothing more than a paved beach, to which visitors and cargo are rowed in longboats from outlying s.h.i.+ps. From there they ascend a broad paved slope, to a small terrace between the Citadel gate on the left, and a pa.s.sageway to the city on the right.

There were soldiers mounting cannon along the seawall, and the harbor chain was raised, but we were given leave to moor and row to sh.o.r.e in longboats. Waiting beside the ladies for a longboat, I saw one gallea.s.s and several galleys already in the harbor.

Only one gallea.s.s.

Oth.e.l.lo and Ca.s.sio had left on separate galleases. One of them had not arrived yet. A fearful thought shot through me; from the corner of my eye I saw Desdemona press her lips together fretfully.

Desdemona, Emilia, and myself, with several soldiers guarding, took the second longboat to the sh.o.r.e. The ladies were each carried like cargo by enormous dockworkers to dry land; the soldiers and I took off our boots and splashed the last few yards to sh.o.r.e with drenched stockings.

Desdemona immediately fell prey to land-legs: she had grown so used to s.h.i.+fting her weight with the movement of the boat, that now she could not balance and fell against me; I grasped her elbow and held her up. "That's normal," I murmured rea.s.suringly, with a smile; Emilia and I were wobbly ourselves, but we had known to expect it. "You will be steady again in moments." She gave me a grateful smile; a wave of regret washed over me for bearing hostility toward her innocent sweet self.

The air was dry and warm, the southern sun baking us as it never did in Venice. The smells of bread and livestock wafted down from the city walls-civilized smells, far preferable to the stench of vinegar that was used to clean the innards of the galleys. Looking up, we saw the entire Citadel population, including maids and stableboys, staring down at us in worried curiosity. Some of the army had already arrived . . . but why would Venice send fragile ladies to a land of war?

More longboats deposited three dozen soldiers and some trunks. We made our way up the slanting roadway under the beating sun, toward the gateway of the Citadel. Emilia put a steadying, soothing arm around Desdemona. Ca.s.sio or Oth.e.l.lo-one of them had not arrived. None of the port workers said anything to us, but all of them looked grim. I wanted to ask for information but dared not in Desdemona's hearing.

It must be Ca.s.sio who was lost; Oth.e.l.lo had about him an aura of invincibility that not even Neptune could destroy.

We arrived at the gate, in the shadow of a large square tower. The lintel of the gate bore a huge winged lion, for this was Venetian territory. From the tower above, soldiers and servants stared down at us in glum silence, as if they believed we were bringing them the plague.

The gate opened; a cornet sounded, and a dozen men in military dress marched grimly out of the gate. Leading them was a tall, leathery-faced man in white; this must be Montano, the rector of the city.

Then, with a sick feeling, I saw bobbing behind the soldiers a bright blue ostrich feather. Ca.s.sio was here. Which meant Oth.e.l.lo wasn't.

An airy, almost soundless cry escaped Desdemona when she saw Ca.s.sio; Emilia clutched her tighter, and I moved closer to them both to catch her if she fainted.

Ca.s.sio, wearing the lieutenant's sash across his body, approached as if it were a day of celebration. I felt ill seeing him dressed that way-seeing him at all, given Oth.e.l.lo's unexplained absence.

As if rehea.r.s.ed, the honor guard parted and allowed him to stride ahead until he was standing beside Montano. With his usual Florentine flourish he bowed deeply over one bent leg and spoke to the Cypriots and army men around him rather than to the lady herself. "The greatest riches of the s.h.i.+p have come ash.o.r.e! All kneel now and greet the lady Desdemona." He went down on one knee, and everyone behind him awkwardly did likewise.

Desdemona forced a polite smile. "Thank you, Ca.s.sio."

Ca.s.sio stood quickly, un.o.btrusively wiping off his stockings at the knee as the men behind him also rose. "And here is Montano, who governs in Venice's name," he added. Desdemona and Montano exchanged formal greetings.

An awkward pause.

"Where is my lord?" Desdemona said at last.

Montano pointedly took a step back, leaving Ca.s.sio responsible to give the news: "His s.h.i.+p has not arrived yet, my lady. But I'm sure he's well and will be here presently."

Desdemona stiffened slightly. "But . . . your s.h.i.+ps were traveling together."

Ca.s.sio gave her a patently fake smile. "A tempest surprised us, and we were separated in the storm. He had the more experienced pilot, so I am sure he is well, just blown off course and-"

A row of guns blasted from above, and a host of guards on the walls began to halloo and point toward the harbor. The curving slope had led us up behind the Citadel; we couldn't see the water from here, but voices began calling down to us that a Venetian gallea.s.s was in view. A cannon sounded from the vessel in response to the Citadel's greeting.

Desdemona clutched Emilia's hands. Ca.s.sio smiled with relief. "You see, my lady," he said, "that's surely his s.h.i.+p now." He turned to one of the guards. "Run down to the port and get the news." As the man raced past me, Ca.s.sio's eyes followed him, and only then did he notice me. He smiled benignly. "Good ensign! Welcome!"

Desdemona stepped aside as Ca.s.sio approached; I saluted him as I must, and he returned it. I disliked being on display like this. His face lit up when he turned to Emilia.

"And the lovely mistress Emilia." He took her hand and bowed over it to kiss it. I glared. He looked up and winked at me. "Oh, come now, Iago, I'm a Florentine, do you really expect me to greet your beautiful wife in any other manner?"

He was growing c.o.c.ky now he had his lieutenancy. My lieutenancy. I stood there without speaking, and having straightened, Ca.s.sio-as if mocking me-pecked my wife briefly on the lips. Emilia blinked in shock. I trembled from the effort of not instantly punching him.

"Well, sir," I managed to chuckle. "If she gives you as much of her lip as she gives me of her tongue-"

Desdemona laughed nervously. "Iago, be kind. Her tongue is always very good to you." She was innocent of how filthy her words sounded.

I heard t.i.ttering behind us, and turned around. The pa.s.sageway leading from the city was crowded with amber-skinned locals. We now had an audience. I had to keep my humor.

"Her words may be good in your presence, my lady," I said, "but trust me, her thoughts chide me enough that I can hear them."

"You know that's not true," Emilia scolded affectionately, and used the moment to step away from Ca.s.sio.

"Oh, come, Emilia," I scolded back. "Speaking as a man renowned for his honesty, I am pained to inform you that you-and all ladies, if her ladys.h.i.+p will excuse me-you are three kinds of dishonest. In public you're the very pictures of innocence, but at home you nag and complain, and then in bed, of course, as every married man knows-"

"Iago," Emilia said warningly, smiling despite herself.

"You slanderer!" Desdemona said over her laughing.

"I am but speaking plain and honest," I insisted.

Emilia put her hands on her hips with a saucy affectation, as she had the first evening I ever met her. "Heaven forbid you ever praise me in public," she said.

"I don't need to praise you anymore, you've already married me," I retorted cheerfully. "Now I may take you for granted."

Desdemona smiled and charmingly took one of my bare hands in both of her gloved ones. "You cannot take me for granted," she said. "So tell me, what would you say in praise of me?"

I gently broke her grip, holding my hands up in surrender. "Do not ask me that, lady, everyone knows how barbed my tongue is."

"Oh, but give it a try," she insisted, grabbing my hands again. Her face grew serious a moment and she whispered, "Someone's gone down to the port, yes?"

"Yes, lady," I a.s.sured her.

Her smile returned, but her voice stayed low. "Everyone is watching us, Iago, and I would not have them see me distressed. Help me seem merry until my husband joins us." She raised her voice to a normal speaking level. "Come, tell me how you'd praise me."

Emilia nudged me in encouragement. With a heavy, put-upon sigh, I nodded-not displeased that Ca.s.sio was being left out of the banter his unseemly action had set off. "I will attempt it, lady, but praise does not come easily to me. My inner muse must labor hard to think of anything fair and witty to say." Emilia stepped on my toe with her heel, and s.h.i.+fted her weight there. "But in this case, of course, it is no labor, since the creature I am to praise is already so fair and witty herself."

Emilia smiled and removed her heel from my toe.

"Very nice," Desdemona replied archly. "But do you mean, then, it would be harder labor to praise a lady who is witty but dark?" Her eyes floated toward Emilia's deep auburn hair, then returned to meet my gaze, pointedly.

"The dark and witty lady has a dark wit all her own," I said, and took my wife's hand to kiss it.

Desdemona smiled, as Emilia immediately challenged me: "Well then, how would you praise a woman who was fair but lacked wit?"

"Oh, no need to praise her," I said. "If she's fair enough, trust me, somebody will want to sleep with her."

The townsfolk behind us cackled. The Citadel men looked horrified that I was speaking with their general's wife this way.

Desdemona, however, was delighted. "You are quite abominable," she said approvingly. "What do you make of his wit, Lieutenant Ca.s.sio? Is he not a scoundrel?"

Ca.s.sio, the elegant Florentine, was pink-faced. He said, apologetically, "He is a soldier, my lady, not a gentleman. He doesn't always know the proper way to address a lady. As I do. If I may speak in private with the lady?" He held out a hand and led her some half dozen paces away from the group. He began to whisper to her, smiling politely and kissing her hand.

I watched, as a fencing master watches his pupils to see if their form is correct. He may have been imparting some confidential information to her, but he was also, by my lights, flirting with her. The three-fingered Florentine kiss was a gesture I was now used to; but I'd seen him use it on prost.i.tutes as well as ladies. Go ahead, I thought, kiss her and kiss her and kiss her again. Later if Oth.e.l.lo hears from me how you've been kissing her, I won't even be lying, you fool.

Ca.s.sio was going to make this very easy for me. He was going to hand me my lieutenancy on a platter.

Chapter 37.

A TRUMPET SOUNDED down the slope-three short notes then two longer ones: Oth.e.l.lo's signal.

"The general's here!" I called out sharply; Ca.s.sio instantly released Desdemona's hand and moved back to the collection of officers.

"You're right," he declared unnecessarily, and gestured them to stand at attention-which they were already doing on their own. "How could he be here so quickly? We've just seen his s.h.i.+p on the horizon."

"He must have lowered a longboat," I offered. Bowing to Desdemona: "He was that eager to be reunited with his bride."

"Let's go down to the water and meet him," she said.

Ca.s.sio gestured down the slope and saluted sharply; we all turned in the same direction and did likewise.

Oth.e.l.lo, his pale clothes splashed with seawater and his hems soaked with it, was striding briskly, if wobbly-kneed, up the incline, four attendants scrambling after him, and a small clutch of fascinated port workers trailing after them. My heart jumped at seeing him: here was the human face of the friend I had been demonizing. The two Oth.e.l.los, colliding, confused me.

His face brightened when he saw Desdemona, who gave a shout of joy and ran down the slope toward him; he broke into a jog to reach her, grabbed her, and pulled her against him as if he would use her body for a breastplate. No couple in Venice would have greeted each other so in public; no military leader I could think of in all history would greet his wife this way before his officers.

It was the first time most anyone present had seen the two of them together; a few had not even heard the general was married, and there was startlement among the soldiers. The quiet woman and the rough-spoken general were fairly dripping in poetry, virtually making love in front of us, before finally Oth.e.l.lo turned his attention to the rest of us and gave us the extraordinary news that should have been the first words from his mouth: "There will be no battle," he shouted out. "The great tempest that separated my s.h.i.+p from the rest has destroyed the entire Turkish fleet! Cyprus is safe."

Stunned silence. Then we were all shouting, shouting loudly with relief and joy. The townsfolk began dancing together; the cheekier ones sashayed toward the guards with arms outstretched in greetings, and the guards whooped and danced with them. Emilia and I, clutching each other tightly, laughed and jumped around like children. No enemy! No danger! Safety and serenity! All is well and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well . . .

OTh.e.l.lO HALLOOED to get our attention back.

"This is my bride," he informed both the Citadel guard and the citizens of Famagusta, with a flouris.h.i.+ng gesture toward Desdemona. "Treat her well. Desdemona, these good people love me, and I think they will love you too." He glanced about, caught my eye, and suddenly looked almost sheepish. "Enough of my prattle. To work. Ca.s.sio, you'll command the first watch on the walls tonight. Iago, go down to the dock and bring my trunks ash.o.r.e, and bring the captain of the s.h.i.+p with you up to the Citadel. He deserves special thanks for saving us from the Turks' fate. Well met in Cyprus!"

With that there was further huzzahing and cheering. Oth.e.l.lo took Desdemona's hand. He gestured Ca.s.sio to walk beside him-a simple gesture that jarred me back to the wearying challenges of my own life. They began to head up the slope together, through the great open gates of iron, toward the fortress, with soldiers and the more brazen citizens behind them. Emilia kissed my cheek, and then rushed to join the happy throng.

I WAITED UNTIL every one of them was gone around the curve up through the Citadel gates, until the shyer townsfolk had made their way back through the pa.s.sageway and their workaday lives. It was a relief to be alone, alone in an absolute way as I had not been in months, perhaps years, perhaps ever. I could hear the beating of my heart, the air was so silent and so still. In the azure sky above, some bird of prey was circling, interested in all the activity. I took a moment to feel my emotions churn. Seeing Oth.e.l.lo and Ca.s.s...o...b..fore me as living men had not abated my fury at either of them, had not dampened my determination to set in plan the scheme I'd developed on the s.h.i.+p coming over here.

Without the danger of imminent warfare, Oth.e.l.lo would no doubt lock himself up with his bride and not show his face in public for several days; somehow, I would have to meet with him before nightfall. Just to insinuate, to plant the seed of doubt. Just enough to make him feel discomfitted, and consider sending Ca.s.sio away. There was no shame in such an act; it was righteous vengeance. They each deserved whatever unhappiness it brought them, and I deserved to gain my rightful lieutenancy. It would be a neat, almost chirurgic undertaking. It did not require heated emotion on anybody's part.

"Iago!" cried a voice full of heated emotion, from behind the open gate that flanked the pa.s.sageway into the city proper.

"Ah, Roderigo," I answered, trying not to wince.

Roderigo had disguised himself by shaving off his lovely mop of ringlets to the skull, and having grown some scraggly facial hair, mostly a mustache, on the sea voyage over. What, pray heaven, was I to do with him now?

"Come with me down to the harbor," I said. He glanced around nervously from his hiding place between the stone wall and the opened gate. "Come along," I urged, trying not to sound impatient. He stepped out of his spot and joined me on the broad paved walkway. "You are not recognizable," I rea.s.sured him. "If I did not know your voice, and weren't expecting you, I'd have no idea it was you. I must go down to the harbor and fetch the general's belongings, while Ca.s.sio goes with him on his triumphal entrance to the Citadel."

"What is the plan?" Roderigo demanded, deaf to my grousing. "Is she tired of him yet? How do we begin the wooing? I've got a walletful of pearls to give you for her. Heaven but it was an awful stink in the belly of that s.h.i.+p! How do those men survive?" He pulled out a scented handkerchief and touched his upper lip with it.

"Ca.s.sio has the first watch," I said as we descended. How best to meet with Oth.e.l.lo?

"What has that got to do with anything?" Roderigo asked, sounding almost petulant.

I checked an impulse to embrace Roderigo. He was going to make this very simple. I would not have to lie to Oth.e.l.lo; I would not even have to speak to him, and I would still get my lieutenancy. "I don't want to say this," I said-which was true, as overt fabrication always made me uncomfortable. "Yes, as I predicted, she has tired of the Moor already. All the honey you just saw at the gate was entirely for show."

"A strange show for a general to indulge in."

"What I did not predict," I pushed on, "is that she has already given her heart to someone else, and that is Michele Ca.s.sio."

Roderigo stopped short. "Michele Ca.s.sio, that Florentine? That's not possible! How is that possible? With a Florentine? Those accursed Florentines are trying to steal my trading route!"

I put a finger to his lips until he nodded a promise to stay quiet. For a flash I thought we were children again, preparing our next prank. "Listen to me. Just as she fell hard and suddenly for Oth.e.l.lo, she fell hard and suddenly for Ca.s.sio. There's something in her nature that requires her to be swept off her feet by some intense quality she senses in a man. With Oth.e.l.lo it was his fierce difference from anyone she'd ever known, but she quickly grew sick of that and looked for its very opposite, a man so effete he is barely a man." I gestured, and we resumed walking. "Also, Ca.s.sio knows how to play people and make them love him, and he has done so with her. Just as with Oth.e.l.lo, it isn't real love she feels, just a bedazzlement. Ca.s.sio is admittedly handsome and young and oozes the kind of energy an unseasoned young woman would fall for, especially a woman with too much pa.s.sion."

Roderigo shook his head as we continued down the roadway toward the port. "I just can't believe that of her. She's so pure."

"You don't even know her, Roderigo," I said. "The wine she drinks is made of grapes, same's the rest of us. If she were really so pure, she would not have fallen for Oth.e.l.lo." He sighed and shook his head, taking in a breath, as if he would contradict me. "Roderigo, were you there when Ca.s.sio came out to greet us? Did you see that?"

"Yes," he said.

"Well then," I said, "did you see him take her aside and whisper to her and kiss her palm?"