I, Iago Part 26

He kept walking, to avoid looking at me.

"I hope you know that I was only speaking from my love for you, but still-you're moved, to a degree I did not intend."

"I'm not," he said as he walked on.

"Remember, these are just my thoughts, nothing more. You demanded that I share my thoughts, and I warned you that they were degraded. You know I am not accusing her of anything-"

"I know," Oth.e.l.lo said brusquely. He cleared his throat and kept walking.

"I hope you mean that," I said, following. "Because if you think I'm actually accusing them of something, then I am the guilty one here, for creating a false impression that neither of them deserves. I would not lightly slander-"

He shuddered, and turned his face farther away from me as we walked.

"Oh, General, you are moved," I said regretfully, reaching forward to put a solicitous hand on his shoulder. He shrugged away from my touch.

"Of course I am not moved," he said gruffly. "Desdemona's honest, I'm sure of that."

"May she remain so," I said heartily. "And may you always think so." Oh, G.o.d's b.a.l.l.s, I thought. I am not going to accomplish anything with this, and now I 've only further damaged my own standing with him.

Oth.e.l.lo paused but did not turn back to me. He kept staring toward the sunlit yard a few paces ahead. "And yet . . . anyone can revolt against their own nature. She and I are both honest as honesty itself, and yet, we deceived her father. Both of us. Both of us were deceitful. I know how deceitful she can be."

Again I rested my hand on his shoulder. "But she has already turned her back on so many men, I'm sure she will continue to do so, if any tried to tempt her. Even Ca.s.sio."

Oth.e.l.lo glanced over his shoulder at me. He suddenly looked very tired. "Leave me, Iago. If you . . . happen to see anything odd, or if Emilia does-you might want to mention to Emilia to keep her eye out-yes, let me know. But for now, leave me, I want to work on some . . . I have some fencing moves I want to work on alone."

"Of course, General," I said, my hand to my heart. I bowed my head, then turned and began retreating back through the pa.s.sageway toward the courtyard.

But a dozen paces down, I stopped and turned back to examine him.

Oth.e.l.lo had sat down just where I'd left him. He sat cross-legged, his sword resting behind him in its sheath. His hands were at his temples, and he was leaning his head heavily into them. He looked miserable. I felt miserable. Playing with Ca.s.sio's career had been much easier, and far more satisfying.

This was different. I did not want him to care for her so much; I wanted to lead him by the nose to anger, or righteous paranoia, not heartbreak. And only for the lieutenancy. I had to keep that in mind; there was a distracting fascination in watching Oth.e.l.lo mold himself at my direction, but that was not my goal. My goal was that lieutenant's sash. Had I troubled the waters enough? Could I stop now?

I cleared my throat and ran a few steps back toward him. He looked up from his miserable seated position. "General, I beg you," I said. "Do not think about this anymore. Let it go." He released an exasperated huff of breath. "The truth will out," I said, now in a fatherly tone. "Please dismiss our entire conversation as my worrying too much." My better nature urged me to add: "And especially, hold your wife free from any suspicion."

Oth.e.l.lo grimaced and nodded, without looking at me. "Do not worry yourself over it," he said, staring at the ground. "Leave me now, Iago."

I had never seen him this dejected. He was nearly as dejected as I had been when I'd realized he was deceiving me. It had taken such little effort to achieve this parity.

Chapter 43.

AGITATED BY MY own accomplishment, I took myself through the courtyard and back up to the wall walk. From there I gazed down upon the city, the sea, and the interior courtyard where officers were exercising. I considered joining them-I would have been welcome, I always was; it was one of the few settings in which my lack of elevation made not a jot of difference to anyone. After Oth.e.l.lo, I was still the best swordsman among them, and they respected me for that, no matter what my rank.

But I did not join them. I felt a tremor throughout my body, and I worried it would reflect in my skill. Besides, the only path to get there would take me past Oth.e.l.lo brooding in the shadowed pa.s.sageway. So instead I paced, and marveled.

WORDS. WORDS. WORDS. All it took were words. Oth.e.l.lo claimed he needed to see something concrete to be moved to doubt-but I had shown him nothing, and still he doubted. I had moved him more than the most ferocious battle ever had. I possessed a power over him, far greater than any he possessed, or ever would possess, over me.

The confused and troubling elation of that insight propelled me along the ramparts into the bright, sunny morning. The sky was brilliant blue, and a crisp sea breeze pulled at my clothes; as I walked, I could hear the grit under my boots with greater clarity than ever I had heard it. I felt intensely alive, and in control-not only of my own destiny but of another person's. It was a heady, thrilling sensation. I win, I thought.

I had never sought compet.i.tion, and still did not believe I should have been subjected to it: not with Ca.s.sio for a lieutenancy, not with Desdemona for Oth.e.l.lo's regard, not with Oth.e.l.lo himself to grant or banish happiness . . . but being forced into those compet.i.tions, I was winning every one of them, and righteously so. It reminded me of my early satisfaction in besting more seasoned fencing students; in besting even fencing masters. My own skill delighted me, all the more so because I had not known I had it.

I remembered the proverb: It is excellent to have a giant's power, but it is tyrannous to use it like a giant. I would be a benevolent tyrant, I promised myself. I trusted myself to exert my sudden puppeteering power over Oth.e.l.lo only insofar as I required him to be a puppet-there would be nothing gratuitous in my exercise of power, for I was not a villain. I had a task to accomplish, as a soldier in war has a task. A soldier does not continue to fire his musket once defeat or victory or truce is sounded. Neither would I.

HAVING SOOTHED MYSELF with this a.s.sertion, I descended to my bedroom. Emilia had a mirror, and I had a childlike desire to observe my face, to see if any of the excitement of the day was readable, or if I were as opaque as a Venetian mask. I strode into the room-and pulled up short to find my wife standing in the middle of it, her hands behind her back.

"What are you doing in here?" I demanded, more roughly than I meant to.

"Don't chide me," Emilia said with a superior smile. The att.i.tude was unlike her. I mentally played over our last interaction: I had scolded her for revealing displeasure in front of Desdemona and Oth.e.l.lo. "I have a thing for you," she continued, in a conspiratorial tone.

I took a step closer to her. "A thing for me?"

She nodded, meaningfully, but said no more. I took another step closer and reached around behind her; she backed away so that I could not reach whatever she was holding. Again I took a step in; again she backed away. Now a little smile teased her face.

"A thing for me," I repeatedly impatiently. "Well, it is a common enough thing to have a foolish wife."

She raised her head until her chin was pointing right at me. "Ha! Is that the best you can do? Your wit's a little slow this morning, husband. Luckily, mine is not. What is that handkerchief worth to you?"

I blinked in surprise. Had she really . . . "What handkerchief?" I asked.

"What handkerchief?" she echoed mockingly. "You know what handkerchief." A final backward step took her nearly to the far wall of the room, and she gave me a half-mocking, half-inviting smile. In the immediate thrill of the moment, I could not sort out in my mind if this was collusion or coincidence.

"Did you steal it from her?" I asked, stupidly.

She gave me a strange look. "No, of course not. She dropped it without noticing, so I scooped it up." The tone of her expression shifted to affectionate teasing. "Look . . . here it is." She released her hands from behind her back and, with a flourish, waved it at me: the little lacy kerchief with strawberries sewn into it, the one I'd seen a thousand times around Oth.e.l.lo's neck, before it began to appear on Desdemona.

I was almost certain I would not need it now, but in case I did: here it was.

I took a steadying breath and reminded myself how this moment must look to Emilia. She thought I wanted the handkerchief so that I could get a copy made as a gift for her. I could not let her suspect otherwise.

"Excellent, you little wench," I said, smiling, moving toward her. "Hand it over."

She held it out in front of her, high up, and waved it slightly, as if tantalizing me with it. "Why should I?" she asked, slyly. "Do you have something special planned for it?"

I moved closer to her; at the same moment, I s.n.a.t.c.hed the handkerchief from her with one hand, and with the other arm, pulled her body close to mine at the hip. I gave her a knowing wink and kissed her hard. "None of your business," I whispered into her ear, as if it were a lover's promise.

And then, overcome with nervousness that I was once again being disingenuous with my own wife, I let go of her and turned away. I rushed to the far side of the room and stared in distracted fixation on the kerchief. Should I use it? Would that be excessive? Could it be traced to me? Should I leave things as they were and trust that Oth.e.l.lo was already distraught enough? No need to overdo anything . . .

"Iago," I heard Emilia's voice as from a great distance, behind me. I turned to look at her, feeling my cheeks turning pink. She was frowning. "That is the third time I said your name-what is wrong with you? Why are you staring at it that way?" She gave me a warning look. "I only leant it to you, you understand that? To find somebody to copy the pattern? If you're planning to hold on to it, then give it back to me, I won't have it. She'll notice it's gone soon, and I don't want to upset her. The poor thing already has too much troubling her today."

"Do not worry, I have my plans." I gestured toward the door. "The sooner you leave me alone, the sooner I may act on them." I winked and blew her a kiss.

She looked cautiously pleased. "Very well," she said, heading toward the door. "In case you're wondering, I prefer a slightly pinker tone than is in the original."

I nodded with a knowing smile, and waited until she'd left the room.

I STARED AT the handkerchief. What should I do with it? I had no way to plant it on Ca.s.sio's person without his noticing. I could show it to Oth.e.l.lo myself and claim I'd found it in Ca.s.sio's room, but that was a more blatant, artless lie than I wanted to risk.

I should put it in Ca.s.sio's room, now that he had returned to the fortress, and let him find it. So far the G.o.ds seemed to be guiding everybody's actions to my ends; perhaps I should trust that Ca.s.sio would wield the kerchief in some manner that a.s.sisted me. Or perhaps, again-perhaps the kerchief was not really called for. Oth.e.l.lo had changed so rapidly in one brief, subtle conversation; perhaps no more was required. Perhaps I really would take the handkerchief into Famagusta and find a seamstress who could make a copy of it for me to give Emilia. It could be a gift to celebrate my lieutenancy.

Shoving the kerchief deep into my jerkin, out of sight, I left the room, heading back through the courtyard for the stairwell to the wall walk. The parapet was a good place to clear my mind and calm my heart.

I was not alone up there. Immediately I saw Oth.e.l.lo, pacing in terrible agitation back and forth along a stretch no more than twenty feet long: back, and forth, and back, and forth, talking to himself and waving his hands wildly before him. His agitation was fifty times what it had been an hour earlier. Such a transformation I honestly had not expected.

I approached him quietly; he did not notice.

"False to me? Is that it? Is she really false to me?" he was muttering.

"What are you doing?" I demanded sternly. "We agreed: no more of that!"

He literally jumped, then spun around to see me. For a moment, he just stared.

Then fury rose on his face, and he lunged toward me, arms outstretched toward my neck. "Get out of here, you wh.o.r.eson! Look what you have done to me! I can't stop thinking about it!"

"General!" I said, jumping back and deflecting his arms with a wrestling move. "Calm yourself!"

His hands were clenched and his arms rigid. "Maybe she is cheating on me, maybe she is not-before I suspected her, it did not matter! It never crossed my mind, and so it never troubled me!" He shouted this at me as if I were to blame for it. Which, technically, I was.

I shook my head and said in a sorrowful voice, "I am sorry to hear this. You should not be so-"

He raged on as if I hadn't spoken. "She could have been sleeping with the entire army and it wouldn't have bothered me, as long as I did not hear about it! But now, whenever I look at my men, I'm going to have to wonder what other officer she's giving herself to-or maybe not an officer! Maybe a common soldier! Maybe all the common soldiers!" He shook his fists, first at the sky, and then at me. "I cannot think about anything else, I cannot calm my mind! I cannot think. I cannot think. I cannot think like a general. So I cannot be a general. I won't be able to function, I'll have to turn the army over to Montano until they can send a replacement from Venice-"

This was complete and unexpected madness.

"Are you serious, General?" I demanded. Not an hour had pa.s.sed since I'd last seen him. If I'd known how potent words could be, I would have used far fewer.

His fists pounded down on both my shoulders, almost dropping me to my knees. I shouted aloud in surprised pain, my hands going protectively to my collarbones, fearing they had both been shattered. Oth.e.l.lo grabbed my hands in his and shook them ferociously.

"Villain!" he spat in my face. "You'd better prove she's a wh.o.r.e, after tormenting me like this! Be absolutely sure of it, give me ocular proof, or I swear to all things holy, I'll make you so miserable, you'll wish you had been born a dog!"

I broke his grip and then immediately grabbed his hands with mine. "Are you mad?" I demanded furiously.

"Show me some proof !" he shouted, and tried to shake his hands free. I held tighter. "Prove this thing you're tormenting me with, or I swear I'll have your life."

"Oth.e.l.lo-"

"If I learn that you've just been slandering her-"

"How have I slandered her?"

"and torturing me, you will be d.a.m.ned, not only by heaven but by me!" He shook his hands free from my grip and with enraged intensity, began to walk away from me; five steps out, he turned again, and then again, resuming his hysterical pacing.

This, I had not planned: that his anger should turn on me, and not on Ca.s.sio. The stakes were changed dramatically. Oth.e.l.lo had just made me one of the pieces in the game, and no longer the player controlling the board.

"In the name of heaven!" I shouted at his backside when his pacing took him away from me. "Do you have one jot of common sense? Oth.e.l.lo, you are raving!"

Shocked that I was returning his anger with my own, he whirled around to stare at me.

With a sour, furious glance at Oth.e.l.lo, I spat, "So it is not safe to be honest with your best friend? Even when he has demanded honesty of you? Thank you for that lesson! Suffer on your own, I can't risk caring for you anymore. Farewell." I turned and stormed down the wall walk, my heart beating so fast and loud I was sure it must be audible.

Oth.e.l.lo ran up behind me; I readied myself to fend off a blow from behind, but his hand merely came to rest on my shoulder. "No, Iago, stay," he said gruffly. "It's good that you are honest with me."

"I'd rather be wise; being honest gets me beaten," I huffed, coming to a stop and half-facing him.

Oth.e.l.lo sighed, and leaned against the low wall. In a confessional tone he said, "Iago, my brother, I am in a terrible state. I think my wife is faithful, then I think she is not. I think you're a good man for warning me, then I think you're not. I need to know one way or the other. This is torture, what I am feeling now, it is a physical sensation"-he began to grab at his own body, as if his clothes were biting him-"it feels like I am being knifed and poisoned and burned and drowned all at the same time. I won't endure it, I need proof !"

I sighed. "I wish I'd never said anything to you."

I almost meant that now, given how it had turned against me. But we were under way, so I had to stay in charge-or die. Oth.e.l.lo had not, in fact, made me a game piece on the board; I had done it myself, by being too good at my enterprise. I had accidentally created for myself an extreme challenge. Seeing what I'd already accomplished, I was confident I could accomplish this as well. "You say you want proof?"

"Want it! No, I'll have it," Oth.e.l.lo replied with vicious speed. "From you." The threat that had quieted a moment earlier lit up again in his expression.

"I'll do my best," I said. "But . . . how? What are you expecting? If they are having an affair-which I am not saying is the case-what do you want me to do? Arrange for you to see them, watch them, while he mounts her?"

Oth.e.l.lo groaned, turned away abruptly, and vomited over the parapet. I tried not to think about whatever or whoever was below us.

"I do not know how to make that happen, General," I pressed on. "Catching them in the act is the only absolute proof there is, and how am I to manage that? No matter how hot they may be for each other"-here Oth.e.l.lo groaned again, weakly, his forehead resting on the parapet-"if they are hot, which I have not said they are, even if they're rutting like animals"-another groan. I wanted to upset him now; the wh.o.r.eson had attacked me-"they would not be fools enough to do the act where we might come across them in the thick of it."

He turned back toward me, looking ill. I continued to chatter as if I didn't notice.

"You are demanding me to prove something that I myself merely suspect. I cannot do that-I will not do it. If you require evidence one way or another, you must be satisfied with circ.u.mstantial evidence."

"Give me a solid reason to believe she's disloyal," he insisted sourly. "You owe me that at least, for putting this thought in my head."

I shook my head, grimacing. "I do not like that a.s.signment," I said, with absolute sincerity. "But since I am caught up in this affair now-because I was foolish enough to look out for your interests-I suppose I'm stuck with it. All right then." I pursed my lips together and wished I were anywhere but here. A thousand thoughts flashed through my mind before I spoke again.

His fury was too dangerous to let it remain fixed on Desdemona; I had to make this about Ca.s.sio and myself. Only one of the two of us could now come out of this well. It had begun as a battle for the lieutenant's sash; suddenly it was a battle for our well-being, possibly our lives. I would never have wished Ca.s.sio dead, nor did I now-but if I had to pick one skin to save, naturally it would be mine.

However, no simple hint, or implication, or manipulation of the truth could possibly deflect Oth.e.l.lo's astonishing and monstrous pa.s.sion.

It was time to be a real Venetian: it was time for outright lies.

Chapter 44.