Venetta, Granacci’s house

At night, the streets of Venetta seemed to be paved with dark glass. A lantern was burning in the bow of gondola, casting splotches of amber-gold light over the water. The boat glided, as silent as a ghost, and the reflections of rare torches made the channels look deep-opaque and full of mysterious shadows.

“To the Granacci’s house,” Alessandro ordered the gondolier.

He returned to Venetta in the morning, and he was already as tired as hell. It was necessary to place the galleys in the port, arrange the training and the repairs of the rigging, listen to the reports of the captains and send his own report to the Golden Palace. It was so tempting to go back to the hotel and postpone all the conversations until tomorrow, but... Ricardo’d promised to wait for him, no matter what time he arrived. They hadn’t seen each other for several months since the navigation began.

Granacci’s house looked quiet and dark. Only two latticed windows glowed on the second floor. As he stepped onto the jetty, which was cut into the stone, he couldn’t help glancing at the shadowy arcade where he had first seen her last spring.

Francesca...

That meeting changed him a lot. He still remembered her delicate face with the proud chin, big eyes and brown curls that had been disordered by her long travel… He remembered her stiffness and carefully concealed uncertainty − which he thought was caused by her natural shyness, yet it didn’t! He thought he saw an innocent girl who came to meet her fiance. When she actually was preparing to play a role and played it brilliantly.

He wondered where she was now.

As soon as the winter storms were over, he sent out men to search all over the Long Sea. Not to bring Francesca back to Venetta − to convince her not to come.

In the stillness of the night there was a clang of a grating being opened, and a familiar cheerful voice called out:

“Hey, Alessandro! Aren’t you coming in?”

Alessandro hugged him. It was nice to see his close friend again. And it was gratifying to see that Ricardo hadn’t changed at all, although after his marriage to Bianca he had gained a great respect in the merchant community of Venetta. Thanks to the influence of his father-in-law and the clever, unobtrusive advice of his wife, don Ricardo Granacci had secured the support of the largest bankers and was now signing one deal after another. He himself had almost ceased to go to sea, while Alessandro, on the contrary, had spent days and nights on the galley fleet since the very spring, patrolling the Long Sea and harshly suppressing the Tarchies’ attempts to capture Venettan forts.

Ricardo looked very happy. He was really noisy, too. He invited his friend into the house, where the candles flickered cozily and the dinner had been set.

“I knew you would make time for your old friend! I have procured a magnificent Alberino wine to celebrate our meeting!”

Alessandro smiled.

“There, on the galleys, I’ve drunk such potions that shall make even the worst wine taste like ambrosia, believe me!”

After weeks spent at sea, the ladder swayed slightly under his feet. Ricardo lit their way with a candelabra, which cost long arabesque shadows along the wall.

They went up to the study, where dinner was set on a table near the window. Bianca was probably asleep. Ricardo, as impetuous as ever, drew up a chair to his guest, poured out the wine, and sat opposite.

"So, any news?” Alessandro asked, taking the glass.

After don Arsago’s death, having barely recovered from his wounds, he entered the service of the new Doge, yet they didn’t get along. Don Sacketti prefered to keep the too straightforward signor di Goro away from the Senate sessions, away from Venetta at all. And the command of a squadron of galleys was a great excuse. So Sacketti was happy to send Alessandro to defend the Venettan strongholds of Alberino, Candi, and Kerkyra against the encroachments of the Tarchies that were becoming more insolent every year. Alessandro escaed into his new work and now was a rare guest in the city.

“We still remember the ceremony of Marriage with the Sea held by don Sacketti. It was quite ... short, I should say. It was fun to watch the pompous Bucentoro, all gilt and covered with crimson carpets, scamper back into the lagoon so that the rowers ‘ oars bent! The sailors said that behind Dito they suddenly saw a giant polypus with tentacles so big they could entangle the entire galley, from bow to stern!”

“It can’t be,” Alessandro said, a note of confusion in his voice. The image of the sea monster with which he had fought in the crypt was still very bright in his memory.

“Mystery, indeed,” Ricardo shrugged. “Although, I guess it seems quite plausible for those fellows who could see don Arsago’s body last spring. Enrique was there too, as the Doge’s closest relative. Some people think that he shouldn’t have come at all, since the Arsago’s blood is cursed by the sea forever!”

“All in all,” Ricardo added, “our Doge now tries to stay away from the sea. Perhaps this is why he became an ardent supporter of his land policy and easily agreed to form an alliance with the Tarchies to trade with Canaan through them.”

This news stunned Alessandro far more than the rumor of a sea monster. He even choked with wine.

“An alliance with the Tarchies?! You must be kidding!”

“You may believe it or not, but don Sacketti is serious about that.”

"After all they’ve done in Chryses? After Elafonisi and Paros? After the massacre in Arsinoe?!”

Alessandro’s face lit up with such a fury that Ricardo involuntarily pushed back his chair.

“Why are you pointing at me? I have nothing to do with it. It’s all the Fiescians, they conspired with the League of Four and are forming a powerful union to confront us. That’s why Sacketti turned to the Tarchies. When you’re between the devil and the deep blue sea, it’s time to choose the least evil.”

“The least? Don’t you know what they did with Alberino fortress?” Alessandro asked, almost in a whisper. “People there defended all winter. We couldn’t come to help because of the storms. In the end, the garrison decided to surrender. The pasha promised to allow the surviving defenders go free. But as soon as the gates opened, he ordered two hundred men to be executed and the rest were chained to benches on the galleys. When we entered the fortress, there were only ruins, knee-deep in blood!”

Ricardo sat on pins and needles, not knowing where to hide his eyes. He flinched as Alessandro slammed his fist on the table. A dish tinkled plaintively and one goblet fell, flooding the light tablecloth with a crimson stream.

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“An alliance, you say?! Tomorrow I will go to the Senate and report. We need more gunpowder! Fortresses have nothing to defend themselves with. We need to strengthen up our garrisons!”

“You d better be careful with don Sacketti,” Ricardo warned grimly, wiping away the spilled wine with a napkin. “There was a senator who was also saying that we should make peace with Fiesca instead of shaking hands with the Tarchies. Well, and where is he now? He was executed for treason! The next day, no one even remembered him. Sacketti behaves as the sovereign of Venetta. After receiving the Doge’s cap, he even managed to get his hands on Joanna. Now she walks as quietly as a nun. You won’t even recognize her when you see her.”

“It’s a great deal to handle a woman, indeed” Alessandro said, pacing the room nervously.

Ricardo watched him with an agitated look. His friend had obviously taken too liberal ideas while serving at the sea. But here, in Venetta, for disrespect to the Doge you could be immediately put to prison where nobody’d help you out.

“I’m afraid you’ve been too diligent protecting the islands from the Tarchies,” he said meaningfully. “Don’t let don Sacketti reward you with a knife in the back. I don’t think Tarchian emissaries would love to see you in the Senate!”

“But you will support me, won’t you?” Alessandro asked as if he’d never doubted his friend’s loyalty.

Ricardo lowered his head, looking quite embarrassed.

“You know, I’m not in favor of the Senate either... because of my sister. In case you’ve forgotten, she is married to a man from Ariminum. But instead of going there with her husband, she’s still in Venetta, to pleasure of all the gossips! And since Ariminum, as always, lives in Fiesca’s shadow, this city is also considered our enemy now. It is said that a new naval commander, a captain Antonio Magnasco, has appeared in Fiesca. He started out like you, once a captain of cuirassiers in Mediolan, then a right-hand man of the Doge, and after that a sailor. You could say he got off the horse and went straight to the galley! However, luck favours him: with only three galleys, he managed to get rid of the corsar Kadoline! Not everyone can do this!”

"Well, galleys are much the same as cavalry, only by sea," Alessandro said, smiling for the first time during the evening. “I’ve heard about the captain Magnasco, though we’ve never met in person”.

"And God forbid!” Ricardo exclaimed fervently. “One day he captured our galleon on its way to Sandria. In retaliation, don Sacketti arrested two of his galleys on Chrysa, where they accidentally went for firewood. No, we can’t negotiate with Fiesca now! That’s why Sacketti started looking for supporters in the East…”

"But not with the Tarchies!” Alessandro snapped. “That’d be a shame after all they’ve done in Arsinoy. People from the entire peninsula will rise up against us, leave alone the Northern Duchies! And they’ll be right!”

Ricardo kept silent. Of course, what his friend had said was right, but it was a good conversation to have in the middle of the sea, on your own galley, with loyal people all around you! Not here, in Venetta, where there might be an informer or spy lurking around every corner.

That stupid directness of Alessandro and his ability to separate black and white with just a single phrase, like with a wave of a sword, always made Ricardo feel like an opportunist. It was as if crust had been peeled off his hardened conscience and a whole bunch of problems had been thrust under his nose – here, why have you been ignoring it for so long? Now take it, solve it! Now he wondered why he even had invited him for dinner. Things never get right when they’re together…

Having completely lost his appetite, Ricardo sullenly pushed aside the dish of tender partridges swimming in wine and began to pick at the expensive tablecloth with his fork, glancing furtively at his friend. Alessandro was standing at the window, looking somewhere. As if there was something to look at in the pitch-black darkness of the night.

Alessandro had a sense of freedom – something Ricardo’d forgotten long time ago. A gust of sea wind, maybe, and something else... an unpleasant reminder of that treacherous, shifting depth that could easily engulf an entire fleet of ships. After the tragedy in the crypt (which still made Ricardo shiver), Alessandro’s clear gray eyes had a dangerous glint in them. Sometimes he paused, as if he was listening to something. Or someone. "It’s all her fault, the damned witch!” Ricardo thought with sudden anger.

Suddenly the memory came back: the dark blood-drenched underground crypt, don Arsago’s broken body near the edge of the black water, and Alessandro, half-dead, with a sword in his hand. Ricardo then stayed at his friend’s bedside for a whole week, helping a doctor who was trying to extract the sea creature’s venom from Alessandro’s veins and heal two terrible wounds across his chest. But when Alessandro finally awoke, his darkened eyes were filled with such horror that Ricardo froze and for a moment he wished that his companion’s soul had flown away.

“If there is still something left of that soul, anyway…” he thought grimly.

At that moment everyone was too busy with the storm and preparations for don Arsago’s lavish funeral, so no one noticed Julia’s brief disappearance. A day later, his sister suddenly appeared, beaming with happiness, on the arm of her new husband, who turned out to be a noble signor of Ariminum. Ricardo, fueled by Alessandro’s old words and his own suspicions, put the squeeze on her and learnt the truth. He knew how to push her, and Julia was never good at keeping a secret. Sniffling and wringing her hands, she told him all about her fear of Arsago and her passionate love for don Roberto d’Este and ... about her faithful friend Francesca, who agreed to replace her in Venetta for a short time so that the lovers could escape. Ricardo flew into a rage. If don Roberto hadn’t been such a good son-in-law, he would have killed that dirty scoundrel!

“Wouldn’t it be safer for your sister to wait for her husband in Ariminum?” Alessandro asked suddenly, still looking out of the window.

“She… she’s going to have a baby. She can’t travel much.”

“Oh, congratulations. So you’re going to be an uncle soon?”

“Yes, the son-in-law of mine gave me a headache… I should have gone to еру sea, too! Better to spend months choking on corned beef and lying flat in a storm than sweating in the Senate, wondering what else our sages will come up with!

“You’re right. It’s much easier at sea,” Alessandro said with a mirthless grin.

His detached calmness suddenly drove Ricardo mad.

"Because there’s no Sacketti there? Or is it because you hope to meet that witch Francesca again?” he blurted out, giving in to an unconscious urge to sting.

His friend spun around.

“How do you know about Francesca?!”

“You kept talking about her while you were unconscious. I was wondering what kind of girl you’d fallen for. Only then I put two and two together.”

Their eyes met with almost a sparkle. Alessandro cursed himself for his carelessness.

“You didn’t share that knowledge with don Sacketti, did you?” he asked in a very even voice that sent a chill down Ricardo’s spine.

“I told you before you, I’m not in his favor!”

He had no intention of snitching on the girl. But if he got his hands on this witch, he would grab her by the neck, put her head into the canal, and hold her there until she dissolved. Not only had she tricked him and that stupid sister of his, but she had also stolen his best friend, too!

“Let’s not talk about her,” Alessandro said, as if drawing a line. “Tell me about yourself. How do you like being married? Does it bother you?”

Ricardo gave a little laugh. They went back to the table, the bottle of wine made a second circuit, and the conversation became more cheerful. In fact, it wasn’t too difficult, if you avoid risky topics. Now they changed the subjects with the skill of seasoned seamen, skirting rocks and reefs. But the old ease could not be restored. There was a crack between them; that feeling stung and didn’t want to go away.

***

Although their conversation didn’t end as he had expected, Alessandro didn’t go to the hotel. He agreed to stay the night in the guest bedroom that had been prepared for him. Didn’t want to offend his old friend. Now, standing by the narrow window, he wished he had returned to the galley. It was easier to breathe there.

Here, in a small, cozy bedroom, draped with tapestries from top to bottom, he was panting like a fish out of water. Either the news or the wine made his head buzz a little. Alessandro chuckled, remembering a common joke about sailors getting drunk on the beach just to feel the deck wobble under their feet.

With a sigh, he looked longingly at the hospitable curtain of the bed. He weaned himself off Venetta, its stony echoes and misty traps. All he had to do was hold out for a few days, make a stir in the Senate, and get supplies for the fortresses at all costs. And then he could go back to sea, back to his old duties and immense seascape.

Reminding him of Francesca, Ricardo opened an old wound. Alessandro really wanted to find her. Before don Sacketti found out what her real gift was and wanted to use her as a tool in his political game. In some ways, the new Doge was even more dangerous than the late count Arsago. He was used to acting surreptitiously, discreetly, and preferably with someone else’s hands. And then-bang! - before you know it, you’re on the hook.

A month ago, Alessandro learned that Sacketti’s men had visited the island of Miracolo. After their visit, the old abbess died, and the novices were quickly taken home by their relatives. Only a few old women remained in the convent. And as for the manuscripts and books on chiamata, no one could say for sure what happened to them…