Eric Flint: This Rough Magic

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."

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-keeping 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."