In the end, it was the quietly sad, longing face of Aidoneus that gave Benito his decision—and, perhaps most important, allowed him to accept it calmly. For all that the two didn't look at all similar, there was something about Aidoneus that reminded Benito of Umberto Verrier. Lonely men in middle age—insofar as that term could be applied to someone like Aidoneus—who always did their duty. Including, when the need arose, sheltering and caring for a woman that a younger and more flamboyant man had not been able to do. Or willing to do.
Benito still felt that he was responsible for Umberto's death. That aching guilt had never left him. Until now, when he made his decision. The first truly adult decision he thought he'd ever made in his life.
"Yes, I can accept it." Benito shrugged. "I'd be a damned liar to say I liked it, Maria. But I thought I'd lost you forever and completely. Two thirds is a sight better than none at all. I see Aidoneus' point. I'd take one third if that was what I could get. How about eight months with me . . . and four down here?"
Aidoneus actually looked nonplussed. "I thought you'd refuse. Very well. I accept also. Maria will spend the four months of winter with me, the rest of the year with you."
Maria looked at him with a curious expression. "You've grown, Benito. I'm still not sure if I want a man—even for eight months of the year—who doesn't know if he's a wolf or a fox."
"I'm neither, Maria. I'm me. And I'm yours if you want me. I'll have you under any terms. Take me or leave me."
Maria bit her lip again. Then, nodded. "I think I prefer Benito to wolves or foxes."
Aidoneus sighed. "Very well. A bargain is a bargain. But this is my kingdom. There is a last clause to our agreement. Go back to your friends now. Maria can follow you out. But if you look back before you reach the far shore you have lost her forever." Aidoneus' voice was full of grim certainty.
Benito looked at Maria. "It's a deal. But how do I know if Maria is following us out?"
"You can turn and have a look," said Aidoneus with a raised eyebrow. "Or believe. She cannot make any sounds out there, away from the tree."
"You're cheating again, of course."
Aidoneus smiled wryly. "Yes."
Benito shrugged. "My companions can't turn either, I suppose?"
"It doesn't mean as much to them as it does to you. It is possible for them. But no, they can't turn either."
Benito took a deep breath. "You're on."
* * *
"What happened?" demanded Manfred.
"She doesn't belong here, and he cheated to get her—on two of three counts. But he did keep his side of the bargain on that third count. So Maria will spend four months of the year here. She can come out now, following us—but only if I don't look back to see if she is following. Not until I get out on the further shore. And you two can't turn around either."
"That's impossible," said Manfred.
Benito shrugged. "It's the terms I've got. It's better than no terms at all. But I have one request, Manfred."
"What?"
"Walk in front of me."
"If I walk behind you I can try and stop you turning."
Benito shook his head. "Manfred, you said you owed me for bringing Erik back. That I could ask for anything. Well, this is what I ask."
* * *
They marched. And marched. Even the final black beach sands seemed endless. The ferryman held out his hand. "Pay me."
Benito snorted. "You'll get our fares on the other side."
"Show me the money."
Holding the ancient coins firmly, Benito held up four obols.
"Isn't that one too many?"
"Play fair," said Benito boredly, and sat down. He did not even twitch his head.
The sunlight on his face was the sweetest thing Manfred had ever felt. The boat slid into the shallows . . . and Benito, still not turning around, held out the four obols.
"Can I keep the change?" asked the ferryman grimly.
"Play fair," said Benito, climbing onto the beach, without so much as a glance. Both feet firmly on the beach he turned, and took Maria into his arms, out of Charon's ferry.
He kissed his love slowly and long. Her lips were warm, as was her body pressed against his. They stood like that for a very long time.
* * *
Manfred leaned back against Taki's bulkhead and grinned at Benito and Maria. "I take my hat off to you, Benito. I'd have looked. I'd have had to."
Benito grinned. "I didn't need to look."
"You've got faith," said Erik seriously.
"Actually, Erik, what I had was Manfred walking ahead of me. You've got well-polished armor, Prince."
Manfred laughed until the ship shook. "The Fox's grandson, all right!"
Maria stuck her tongue out at him. "No. He's just Benito. My Benito."
Benito smiled at Maria, lovingly. "I could see you the whole time, Maria, dearest. All the way. I wished I could have told you not to look so worried. He cheated. I never said I wouldn't. For you I would do anything."
Epilogue
Spring, 1540 a.d.
Now that the relief effort was fully underway, the Citadel was allowed a day of celebration, of feasting, of laughter. The feast was of course entirely brought from the ships. It was not very good food, but there was enough.
"Governor De Belmondo is retiring, as soon as Venice sends a replacement," said Marco. "The doctors have told the old man to quit or die in harness, soon. The siege took a toll on him and he's nearing eighty. But he'll stay on in Corfu. He has a small estate in the south."
Benito snorted. "Him, I can deal with. But his wife I'd prefer to see back in Venice, if not Vinland."
Maria pinched his arm. "You're not being fair, Benito. I've told you."
Benito's expression hardened slightly. "I've heard you. I'm never going to entirely agree with you. But I agreed to let it be."
"You're impossible, Benito Valdosta," said Maria. It was plain that there'd still be some stormy exchanges on this one. But Marco noticed she still held his hand, firmly.
"So who will they send to govern us?" asked Alberto, plainly keen to move the subject away from this area.
Marco laughed. "He's come to talk to you, O new head of the Little Arsenal. I was in magical communication with Venice from the ships this morning. Benito has been nominated to be interim deputy governor by the Senate; and to repair the war ravages here, the Senate has voted a budget allocation of half a million ducats."
"Deputy Governor!" Benito gaped. "Me? Are they crazy?"
Marco shrugged. "The Senate was adamant, apparently. For the moment, given De Belmondo's age, they mostly want someone whom they trust to keep Corfu Venetian—and, despite your hair-raising reputation in some other respects, you now have a rather towering reputation as Venice's man-in-a-pinch."
Benito was still gaping. Marco smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Benito. It's just temporary until the Senate can finish wrangling over who they want as a permanent governor to replace De Belmondo. If it makes you feel any better, Petro told the Senate they were out of their minds. He proposed you for temporary captain-general, instead. But the military types had fits over that idea."
That brought a grin to Benito's face. "And well they might! I'm never going to be their favorite in peacetime. But I've got the perfect candidate for the job: Giuliano Lozza."
* * *
"Now that the supply distribution is well in hand," said Manfred, "we'll be heading onward to Jerusalem. A part of the fleet is going east to Canea. There'll be other vessels there, and we can go on to Ascalon."
Manfred looked sad. "I've a need to do some praying for my uncle, who may well not live much longer. And the business of politics goes on. So: We'll be loving you and leaving you, Benito Valdosta. Unless you'd like to come along. I've always a space for you in my company."
Benito felt the earnestness behind those lightly spoken words. He thought back. Command and siege had made Manfred grow. He was no longer likely to challenge Erik's watch-keepi
ng ability. "I'd enjoy it. But I think Venice and Maria would prefer me to stay put awhile. I'll be here when you come back. They also wanted me on the fleet that is set to deal with the Aragonese, Barbary corsairs and the Genovese, too. Strange, to be wanted—and not just by the Schiopettieri, for a change."
Everyone laughed. "Benito, I have to agree with Maria: You were born to be hanged," said Francesca.
* * *
Erik squeezed Benito's shoulder. "I really don't feel party-like, yet. I'll be back, to collect Bjarni and the other Vinlanders—except Kari, who insisted on coming with us—and to collect what remains of Svanhild's things. Honor demands I must return them to her kin in Vinland. You'll take care of them for me?"
Benito nodded. "They're managing to feed Bjarni, at least, Erik. If he comes out of it . . . I'll take care of him."
Erik mustered a smile. "I couldn't think of a better caretaker."
Benito assumed a look of injured virtue. "I'm respectable these days. I'd be a married man if the church would agree."
"I think the authorities are mistaken in that. Still. I think I have learned. Those who are truly joined, neither man's laws nor God nor death really put asunder. Words and rituals don't really seem to mean that much."
* * *
"Are you entirely mad?" demanded Giuliano, looking at Benito as if he had offered him a lifetime in purgatory instead of the highest military position on the island. "Who would look after my olives? No! Thalia and I," he put a possessive arm around her, "are going to grow good eating kalamatas, not little lineoleas. I've got a new vineyard in the planning, too."
"I could have told you that he wouldn't do it," said Eberhard quietly, when Giuliano had walked away. "Cincinnatus."
"What?"
"You'd benefit from some history lessons, young Benito," said Francesca. "Giuliano Lozza could be a great condottiere if he wanted to. He doesn't. All he wants is a few acres of olive trees, some vines and a wife to make plump with his spoiling. Give him a pack of noisy children, too, and he'd be happier than any king. There are some people who just don't want power, or adulation, or even too much money."
Benito laughed. "You know why?"
"No."
"Because it is his for the asking. So, if I can't have Giuliano, who do we make captain-general? Leopoldo will do for now, while he recovers, but he's good, and ambitious. Venice will move him on for sure. You're all off to the Holy Land. So who am I left with?"
"You can always do double duty while you look for someone else. And why don't you make Thalia the minister of agricultural reform? You'd get Giuliano that way. And if the island really needs him—Giuliano will be there."
"That should give the surviving Libri d'Oro the hissy-fits," said Benito, with a look of pleasure.
"When they discover what you're planning on doing about tenant farms," said Manfred cheerfully, "you might just need Lozza."
Benito grinned evilly. "No. We'll do it slowly. It's like cooking lobsters. If you start with cold water then they don't flap and snap like they do when you try to drop them into boiling water. But the system as it stands is a recipe for insurrection."
"As we saw during the siege," said Eberhard. "But you may find that loosening the bonds will lose Venice this island."
Benito shrugged. "The system as it is will definitely lose it. I plan to work on ties of trade and blood instead."
"You'll make a good deputy governor," said Manfred with a chuckle. "Keep the taverns in trade anyway."
"For four months of the year," said Maria sternly.
Benito looked at her. There was a sadness in his eyes, but acceptance, also. He put an arm around her. "It's not every husband—in all but name, anyway—who gets a four-month holiday."
Spiro came up with a Venetian glass of tawny liquid in hand. "Here you are Beni. Kakotrigi. You'd better get used to it, if you're going to be our governor."
"That's your third," said Maria, taking it herself.
Benito shook his head. "I should have said it is not every man who needs a four-month holiday. Ow! I was only joking, Maria! You'll get 'Lessi wet if you pour it over me."
Maria looked sternly at him. "I have walked among the dead and asked them secrets hidden from ordinary mortals, Benito Valdosta. And among them I found out your weakness. Tonight, I am going to tickle you."
The last part was said with a Maria smile, full of promise, full of loving. An older Maria, confident at last of herself. Of being loved enough. Of being someone who no longer felt insecure about her station, about being a canaler with a Case Vecchie man. She had something now that made her realize just how irrelevant these things were.
Maria pointed a finger at Spiro. "You. Fetch us two more glasses of this—this kakotrigi. I didn't like it much at first sip, but I'm finding it better and better."
"It grows on you," said Benito, putting his arm around her again. "Part of the magic of this place."
Eneko Lopez tasted the wine. "Rough magic," he said with a grimace.
"But good and strong," said Maria, laughing.
* * *
In the high valley in the shadow of Pantocrator, the faun played on his panpipes a part of the ancient dance that is love, life, death, joy, sorrow and Corfu.
CHARACTERS
Principal Characters
Aldanto, Caesare: Sellsword, spy, Milanese of aristocratic family; formerly a Montagnard agent, now enslaved by Jagiellon.
Bartholdy, Elizabeth: Hungarian Countess, great-great aunt of King Emeric of Hungary; a sorceress, appearing to be about twenty years old.
Casarini, Bianca: Florentine resident on Corfu; follower of Elizabeth Bartholdy.
De Belmondo, Renate: Wife of the Podesta, priestess of the Mother Goddess.
De Chevreuse, Francesca: Courtesan, formerly of Orleans.
Emeric: King of Hungary.
Hakkonsen, Erik: An Icelander, and bodyguard and mentor to Manfred.
Jagiellon: Grand Duke of Lithuania; possessed by the demon Chernobog.
Lopez, Eneko: A Basque cleric and ecclesiastical magician.
Manfred, Prince, Earl of Carnac, Marquis of Rennes, Baron of Ravensburg: nephew to the Holy Roman Emperor.
Mindaug, Kazimierz: Count, advisor to Jagiellon. A student of western magic.
Montescue, Katerina (Kat): Lodovico's granddaughter, married to Marco Valdosta.
Shaman of Kandalaksha: His name remains a closely guarded secret. He is the servant of Jagiellon.
Thordardottar, Svanhild: only daughter of a powerful Vinland trading house.
Tomaselli, Nico, Captain-General: Venetian Military commander of Corfu.
Tomaselli, Sophia: wife of the captain-general.
Valdosta, Benito: grandson of the Duke of Ferrara, illegitimate son of the condottiere Carlo Sforza; ward of Doge Dorma.
Valdosta, Marco: grandson of the Duke of Ferrara.
Verrier, Maria: former Venetian canaler, married to Umberto.
Verrier, Umberto: Master in the Caulker's Guild.
Verrier, Alessia: Daughter of Maria.
Minor characters
Bartelozzi, Antimo: Agent and advisor to Enrico Dell'este.
Beg, Iskander: Illyrian chieftain, know as the Lord of the Mountains.
Bespi, Fortunato: Former Montagnard assassin, now bodyguard for Marco Valdosta.
De Belmondo, Alexio: Podesta of Corfu.
Dell'este, Enrico, Duke of Ferrara: The Old Fox. One of Italy's leading military tacticians; grandfather to Benito and Marco.
Dorma, Petro: Doge of Venice. Head of the commercially powerful House of Dorma.
Dorma, Angelina: Petro Dorma's younger sister.
Evangelina, Sister: A Hypatian Sibling.
Falkenberg, Ritter: A Prussian Knight-Proctor. Master of siege-craft.
Fianelli, Marco: A Corfiote criminal; and a spy for King Emeric.
Hohenstauffen, Charles Fredrik: Holy Roman Emperor.
Kari: Half-Osage tribesman. Hearthman to the Thordarsons.
Kosti: Fisherman,
crewman on Taki's boat.
Leopoldo, Commander: Commander of the garrison, Corfu Citadel.
Loukaris, Meletios: Secretary to Podesta De Belmondo.
Lozza, Giuliano: Son of Flavio Lozza, a legendary master-at-arms. A plump olive grower.
Mavroukis, Stella: Maria's gossipy friend.
Mavroukis, Alberto: Stella's husband; a Master in the Little Arsenal of Corfu.
Mascoli, Brother: Hypatian priest of St. Raphaella.
Montescue, Lodovico: Head of the formerly powerful House Montescue.
Morando, Aldo: Swindler, fake Satanist.
Nachelli, Petros: Rent-collector and go-between for spies.
Saluzzo, Paulo: A thug working for Fianelli.
Sforza, Carlo: The wolf of the North, Milan's chief condottiere. A military legend.
Spiro: Corfiote sailor, fisherman, crewman on Taki's boat, friend of Benito.
Taki: Skipper of a fishing boat.
Thalia: Peasant woman, first female sergeant in Venetian Corfiote forces.
Thordarson, Bjarni: oldest son of a powerful Vinland trading house.
Thordarson, Gulta: Third son of a powerful Vinland trading house.
Trolliger, Baron Hans: One of the Holy Roman Emperor's courtiers and advisors.
Von Gherens, Ritter: A Prussian Knight-Proctor.
GLOSSARY
Aquitaine: An independent kingdom in western Europe; it comprises parts of what in our universe would be called France and England.
Armagh, The League of: A loose alliance of Celtic/Nordic states.
Arsenalotti: The workers at the Arsenal, Venice's state shipyard.
Ascalon: A port in Palestine.
Bacino: Harbor basin.
Barducci's: A tavern well known for music.
Bretagne: Brittany. An independent Duchy, part of the league of Armagh.
Carnac: Capital of Celtic Brittany.
Capi: Roughly the equivalent of a lieutenant.
Carreta: A pony/horse trap.
Case Vecchie: Great houses; the Venetian aristocracy.
Cassone: A carved chest.
Chrysostom, John: Charismatic preacher associated with Saint Hypatia, at the breakpoint between this universe and ours; born 349 a.d.
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