“There are how many factions?” said Erik, weakly.
She smiled. “In Venice? Where there are three people together, at least five factions are gathered! The Venetian Republic is worse than elsewhere because Venice sits a jewel between so many interests. It is the key to the Mediterranean. And the key to the East. Emeric, the King of Hungary, Milan, Rome, the Holy Roman Emperor . . . all want Venice—or, at least, the riches which pour through the city. The Ilkhan Mongols have their own interests, also, as do the Greeks. Even the Grand Duke of Lithuania . . . just to stir up trouble, or to flank the Holy Roman Empire. And that is without the interests of the Church and its various factions, and the Strega, and the Jews. I think the latter just want a quiet life, but both factions have money for whoever will offer to leave them alone.” She laughed throatily. “It’s a quiet little town. I love it, even more than I did my native Orleans.”
Erik sighed. “I want to go back to Iceland. At least you only had to worry about someone trying to kill you. This is all too complicated for me.”
Manfred smiled. “Why don’t we get some lessons from this swordmaster’s salle? I don’t think us going to visit this Caesare Aldanto fellow is a good idea.”
Erik drew a deep breath. “I still think a visit is called for.”
Francesca laughed. “What ill came of it, Erik? I thought it was the Italians who believed in vendetta?”
Manfred laughed. “Compared to Icelandic clan feudists? Not even in the same league, Francesca! And Erik’s got humiliation to avenge as well as a simple attempt on his life. Aldanto’s the man responsible for getting him under your sweet thighs, don’t forget.”
Francesca chucked the unfortunate Erik under the chin. “Poor man. It must have been so hard for you.”
Erik got hastily to his feet, amid Manfred’s guffaws. “I think it’s time we talked to Von Gherens.”
“Coward,” grinned Manfred. “You talk to him. I’m going to stay here and take my punishment like a man.”
* * *
Von Gherens was willing. So were the four young Ritters he spoke to.
Gerhard Bach was downright avid.
* * *
Fortunately, the abbot was sequestered in private discussion with Sister Ursula when the Schiopettieri barge arrived at the embassy in mid-afternoon. Erik thought Sachs would probably have had a fit if he’d seen eight armored knights wrestling a bombard into the Venetian vessel. Even a small one.
The knight-proctor Von Stublau did pitch a fit. But with the official authority of Sachs on his side—as attested to vehemently by Manfred and Erik—Von Gherens simply ignored Von Stublau’s protestations.
“Take it up with the abbot!” snapped Von Gherens. “Better make it quick, too. We’re leaving.”
Fuming angrily, the Prussian knight-proctor stormed back into the embassy. Von Gherens, grinning, turned to his knights and said: “Let’s go. Just in case Von Stublau develops the nerve to interrupt Sachs and Sister Ursula.”
“He’d better knock first,” muttered Manfred, not quite under his breath. Two of the younger knights chuckled softly. Erik frowned.
“That’s in very bad taste,” he growled.
“Not as bad as Sister Ursula, I’ll bet,” responded Manfred cheerfully. The two young knights burst into outright laughter.
Erik sighed. Once again, reproving Manfred had proven to be as useful as pouring naphtha on a bonfire. . . .
* * *
The barge carrying Erik and Manfred met up with the rest of Dorma’s flotilla not far from Casa Dandelo. It was quite an impressive show of force, even before the Knights and their bombard arrived: three barges packed with Schiopettieri, and another three coming behind. The last three, to Erik’s surprise, were empty except for skeleton crews. He wondered as to their purpose.
As soon as Dorma’s barge came alongside, Petro hopped into Erik’s vessel. The easy and nimble way he moved reminded Erik how young Lord Dorma was—not yet forty, he’d heard—for a high Venetian notable. The man’s bald head, pudgy build, and judicious manner normally made him seem older.
“I’ll ride the rest of the way with you,” Petro announced, smiling. “I believe I should, since I’m officially in charge of this—ah, I believe we’re still calling it an ‘investigation.’ And you’ll be spearheading the—ah, I believe I’ll call it an ‘entry.’ “