“I guess he wanted the best possible view,” said Manfred. He loosened his great sword in its scabbard. “So let’s not disappoint him.”
Chapter 61
Benito’s eyes were riveted on the bombard nestled in the hold of the barge, with three of the knights squatting next to it. From Benito’s vantage point, high atop Casa Dandelo, he could see the bombard clearly. But he knew that from the angle of Dandelo observers below, the bombard would still be invisible.
That, as much as anything, finally convinced Benito that Dorma’s expedition was serious. Like most canalers and lower-class Venetians, his first reaction on hearing the news that Lord Dorma was going to “inspect” Casa Dandelo was jeering. Oh, sure. Dorma’ll trot through the place and come out announcing that all is well.
But the bombard . . . hidden from sight . . .
And—the fact that there were Knights in the expedition. If Benito had lost his childhood enthusiasm for his mother’s Montagnard cause, he still retained a certain romantic image of the Knights. The champions of Christendom; defenders of the right; bold and brave and true. If the image was tarnished—and had been tarnished even more by the general behavior of the Knights in Venice over the past year—it was still there, lurking in the corners of his mind.
Besides, not all of the Knights were simply lackeys for the Servants. Was there a canaler in Venice who hadn’t heard the story, by now, of how some of the Knights—one in particular—had defied their abbot when he ordered a girl and some children hauled out of a church and put to the inquisition? Benito had heard that story several times over the past months, in several different places and from several different pairs of lips.
The stories varied in detail, of course, as city rumors will. Except on one point: all of them agreed that the knight who had first defied the abbot was a Nordic wolfman of some sort. A young blond maniac, who had been ready to carve his fellow knights into bloody pieces over an issue of law and principle.
The barge was closer now. If they hadn’t been wearing helmets, Benito could have seen individual faces. Eagerly, he scrutinized what little he could see of the Knights past their helmets and nose guards. Which was not much, unfortunately.
Then Benito noticed that one of the knights—one of the three standing in the bow of the barge—was a very big man. And he remembered that, according to some of the stories he had heard, the blond one had been aided by a supposed giant.
I wonder if . . .
At that moment, one of the knights standing next to the very big one unclasped his helmet and removed it. Then, quickly wiped his forehead and brushed back his long hair; in the way that a warrior will just before battle, to make sure that his hair will not slide forward in the helmet and obscure his view.
His very long and very blond hair . . .
The knight glanced up at Benito as he did so. Then, after shaking his head in bemusement—crazy kid!—replaced the helmet. The whole thing had not taken more than a moment, but long enough for Benito to see the knight’s face clearly.
A face that seemed a thing made entirely of angles and sharp planes, for all its obvious youth.
Yes! It’s got to be him! I’m sure of it!
Benito’s excitement was cresting. Suddenly, he was certain that this expedition was no thing of “show.” Not in the least little bit.
I’ve got to see it!
He made up his mind right then. Curling quickly back into an upright position, he planted his feet firmly on the crossbeam of the roof. Then, looking across the canal to the rooftop across the way where Maria was perched, watching him, gave her a quick and cheerful wave. And a thumbs-up.
Moving quickly, before Maria could have time to start yelling orders at him to cease and desist, Benito took out the little prybar he had brought with him—just in case—and began working at the iron bars of the small window he was squatting beside. Those were some of the iron bars he had sawn through two nights earlier, and it was quick work to pry a couple of them loose. Benito glanced down to make sure no one would get hit, and pitched the bars into the waters of the canal below.