However, Magda was a dutiful German wife, at least for public consumption. Besides, she was also a better swimmer than Stoner. So she took her husband’s hand—the fingertips only, in case she had to let go—smiled, and hopped nimbly into the rivercraft. Nimbly enough, in fact, that even the slender vessel—designed for speed, not cargo-handling—barely rocked under the impact.
* * *
The vessel’s captain and crew were also attuned to speed. The instant the captain saw that the woman was securely seated and that her idiot husband was no longer actively attempting to capsize the boat, he gave the order to push away from the pier. Within seconds, the oars were in the water and the boat was making good speed toward Venice. They’d be there by nightfall.
The captain was pleased. That meant a good bonus. The young soldier who’d come up the river with them to fetch the man and his wife had promised as much. And while this was the first time the captain himself had ever done business with the people from the Swede’s embassy, they had a good reputation with the boatmen on the river to Padua. The man was some sort of savant, who made this trip regularly. And, by all accounts, paid well, paid promptly—and never tried to skimp on the bonus.
Thankfully, he hadn’t drowned yet. Given his clumsiness in a boat, the captain supposed that was just a matter of time. Still, he’d make sure the man stayed in the boat long enough to pay the bonus for this trip.
Looking around at the riverbanks, the captain noticed some sort of stir at the commercial docks now some distance behind. Other people, it seemed, had difficulty staying out of the water.
The passengers had craned their necks around and were observing the same little ruckus. Idle curiosity, nothing more. It was really too far away to see much.
“What is happening back there?” the woman asked. Her Italian was not bad, though the captain found the heavy Veneziano accent a bit amusing. Heavier than a native’s, it was.
“Nothing significant, signora,” he replied casually. “I think someone fell into the river and others are trying to fish him out.”
“Oh, the poor fellow. I do hope they manage to rescue him.”
But her concern was more perfunctory than anything else. She didn’t spend more than a moment observing the distant commotion before turning back and facing forward. Her husband and the young soldier escorting them did the same, a few seconds later.
The captain didn’t share even her minimal concern. He’d been a successful boatman for almost thirty years now. He’d never even bothered to learn how to swim. What sort of boatman can’t manage to stay in a boat? Let the incompetent ones drown. They had no business plying the trade in the first place.
Chapter 36
As soon as they’d left Venice, Michel Ducos had pulled a tarp over himself and the bag he’d brought, and promptly gone to sleep. In truth, Frank thought Ducos looked exhausted. The wound he’d suffered on his hand seemed to be bothering him a lot, too.
Ducos had snored all the way up the Brenta, provoking giggles from Giovanna every time he turned over and grunted. That would have been interesting if they’d been pulled over by whatever passed for cops hereabouts, although Messer Marcoli had said Frank should relax, they were running ahead of even the news of their departure, let alone any pursuit.
Michel woke up in good time to help the boatmen tie up, and while Messer Marcoli paid the last quarter of their passage—his credit wasn’t good for much in Venice, apparently—Frank decided to let the Venetians organize the unloading. He and his brothers would take advantage of the moment to see Gerry off quietly to go find their father.
That was no problem, as Frank had expected. Gerry was good at making himself scarce without being seen, and the Marcolis weren’t paying the slightest bit of attention anyway. Frank had known they wouldn’t. After all these weeks in close proximity to the family, he’d come to know them quite well. As much as he liked them—and he did, all of them, even if Giovanna was the only one he really cared about—he’d long since realized that if this new universe had had a television industry, the Marcoli family would have made the ideal subject for a situation comedy series.