Jon Grimwood - The fallen blade

At that, Aunt Alexa, the late Duke Marco III's widow, had shaken her head sadly and sent for hot water to which she added fermented leaves to make her niece a soothing drink. While Uncle Alonzo, the late duke's younger brother, had taken Giulietta aside to say it was interesting she should mention that…

Her world became a darker, more horrid place. Not only would she marry a foreigner she'd never met. She'd be taught how to kill him when the bedding was done. "You know what they expect me to do?"

"My lady, it's not my place…"

"Of course not. You're just the cur sent to round up strays."

His eyes flared and she smiled. He wasn't a cur and she wasn't a stray. She was Lady Giulietta dei San Felice di Millioni. The Regent's niece. The new duke's cousin. Duchess Alexa's goddaughter. Her whole life defined by how she was related to someone else.

"Say you couldn't find me."

"I've been following you since I saw you leave."

"Why?" she demanded. Only in the last half-hour had she felt herself watched. She couldn't believe he'd let her travel right across Venice by herself, knowing he would stop her before she could escape to the mainland.

"I hoped you might turn back."

Rubbing her temples, Giulietta wished they'd sent a young officer she could shout at, or beguile with her charms, meagre though they were.

"How can I marry a man I haven't even met?"

"You know…"

Giulietta stamped her foot. She understood. All daughters were assets. Princely daughters more than most. It was just… Maybe she'd read too many poets. What if there was someone she was meant to marry? She regretted her words the moment they were spoken. The Moor's quiet contempt for her question ensured that.

"And what if he lives on the world's far edge or is not yet born? What if he died centuries ago? What if he loves someone else? Policy can't wait on a girl's fantasies. Not even for you…"

"Let me go," Giulietta begged.

"My lady, I can't." He shook his head sadly, never letting his crossbow's aim stray from Josh's throat. "Ask me anything else."

"I want nothing else."

Atilo il Mauros had bought her her first pony. Dandled her on his knees. With his own hands he carved her a bear fighting a woodcutter. But he would return her to Ca' Ducale because that was his duty. Atilo did his duty without fear or favour. It had made him the late duke's favourite. And earned him Alonzo, the new Regent's, hatred. Giulietta had no idea what Aunt Alexa thought of him.

"If you loved me…" Her voice was flat.

Lord Atilo glanced at the bow he held, looked at the ragged thieves and shifted Giulietta out of their hearing, without letting his aim waver.

"My lady."

"Listen to me." She felt sick in her gut. Tired and fed up and close to tears. "King Janus was a Crucifer. A Black Crucifer."

"I know."

"And I had to learn it from servants' gossip. They're going to marry me to an ex-torturer, who broke his vows of poverty and chastity. Who abandoned the purity of pain." Her lips curled in disgust at the words.

"To become king," Atilo said simply.

"He's a monster."

"Giulietta… The Germans want Venice. The Byzantines want it too. The Mamluks want your colonies. Even my people, the Moors, would happily see your navy sunk. King Janus was Black only briefly. Cyprus is an island we can use."

"Use?" she said in scorn.

"Venice's strength rests on its trade routes. It needs Cyprus. Besides, you have to marry someone."

"It might as well be him?"

The Moor nodded, and she wondered if he could read the fury in her eyes. Anger kept her fear at bay. Her fear of what being bedded by a Black Crucifer might involve.

"My lord," Josh interrupted.

Atilo raised his bow. "Did I tell you to speak?" His finger began tightening on the trigger.

"Let him speak."

"My lady, you're in no…"

"… position to demand anything?" said Lady Giulietta bitterly. She'd never been in a position to demand anything as far as she could see. At least not since her mother was murdered. Giulietta was a Millioni. A princess. She had one of the most gilded childhoods in Venice. Everyone envied her.

She'd swap all of it for…

Lady Giulietta bit her lip so hard it bled. There were days when her self-pity nauseated even herself. This was turning out to be one of them.

"Let's hear what he has to say," she suggested.

Atilo lowered his tiny crossbow. A nod said the boy was reprieved, for now. "This had better be good."

"We should get off the streets, my lord."

"That's it?" Atilo sounded astonished. "That's your contribution? You're a split second away from death. And you think we should get off the streets?"

"It's almost dark."

"They're afraid of the Watch," Giulietta said.

She wasn't surprised. Beat you and violate you, smash your face and twist your arms if you don't do everything they want. That sounded as if the girl spoke from experience.

"Not the Watch," the younger boy said dismissively. "We ain't afraid of them now. They don't go out after dark."

"They're the Watch," Giulietta said.

"Got more sense," he told her. "Not with what's out there."

"And what is out there?" she asked. Perhaps the small boy didn't see Atilo's warning scowl. Perhaps he wasn't bothered.

"Demons."

"No," his sister said. "They're monsters." "Atilo…" She shouldn't be using his name like that. Not without "my lord" or whatever title he held since the Regent had stripped him of Admiral of the Middle Sea, which had been his position under Marco III… The late, and very lamented Duke Marco III. Since his son, Marco IV, her poor cousin, was a twitching simpleton.

"What?" His tone was sharp.

"We can't just leave them."

"Yes," he said. "We can." Atilo stopped at an owl's hoot, his shoulders relaxing slightly. When he hooted back, the owl hooted in return. "It's you we can't leave." There was bitterness in his voice.

"But you would if you could…?"

"I have fifteen blades out there. The best I've trained. My deputy, his deputy, thirteen others. Good soldiers. If half come through this alive I'll be grateful."

Giulietta didn't recognise him as the old man who had carved her a wooden toy as a child. This was the Atilo people saw in battle.

"Are we heading for safety?"

He turned, looked at her. A hard glare that softened slightly. "There is no safety tonight, my lady. Not here and not now. The best I can do is hope to keep you alive."

"And the children?"

"They're dead already. Leave them."

"I can't… We can't…" She plucked at his sleeve. "Please."

"You want them saved?"

"Yes," she said, grateful. Thinking he'd changed his mind.

"Then let them be. They stand a better chance of living if they hide now. Not much, admittedly. But staying with you will certainly get them killed."

Lady Giulietta looked sick.

"It's you our enemies want. Well, it is now."

Taking a stiletto from his hip, he reversed it fluidly, offering her its handle over the edge of his forearm. Sweet Lord, she thought. He's serious. From the knot in her guts, her body was ahead of her brain. She was afraid the knot would let go and she'd disgrace herself in front of the old man.

"Find a tanner's pit," Atilo snapped at Josh's group. "Shouldn't be hard round here. Squat in it up to your necks. Don't move. Keep silent until morning."

"The demons hate water?"

"They hunt by smell. You stink of piss already. Find a tanner's pit and you might get lucky." Atilo turned without further thought. They were gone already as far as he was concerned.

"Stay close," he told Giulietta.

Atilo used a sottoportego, an underpass beneath a tenement building, to reach a tiny square. At its far edge, the square was prevented from crumbling into a narrow canal by oak stakes along its bank. Slicing a rope to a shabby gondola, Atilo kicked it away from the side to make a makeshift bridge. Once Lady Giulietta was over, he cut the remaining rope and jumped for safety as the boat drifted away.