Eric Flint - The Shadow of the Lion

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.' "

He eyed the little bombard. "Can you fire that from the bow of the boat?"

Gerhard Bach looked indignant. "Are you cra?" He broke off, coughing, as if he'd just remembered he was addressing a high-ranking Venetian official rather than a young knight-squire. "Ah, no. Sir. That'd be a very bad idea. The recoil would probably hull the barge. It's not designed to be a gun platform."

Dorma frowned. "Then how?"

"I'll figure something out," replied Bach cheerily.

Dorma shrugged. "I leave the matter in your capable hands, then." He turned to Erik. "Any questions?"

Erik looked at him uncertainly. Yes. How in the hell did you ever get the Council of Ten to agree to this?much less the Doge? But he decided that question would be impolitic. If rumor was to be believed, Dorma himself was a member of that secretive body. As for the Doge…

Petro coughed. "I might mention that the Doge has given me his blessing. Well. In a manner of speaking."

Again, he eyed the bombard. "I told him we needed to test a new mechanism. He was quite engrossed in his clocks at the time. I took his wave as a gesture of assent. It seemed a reasonable interpretation."

Erik nodded solemnly. It seemed a reasonable response. And less likely to get him in trouble than any words he could think of.

Manfred, as usual, suffered no such inhibitions. "Foscari'll probably have a heart attack when he finds out. On the other hand?" the big young knight swept his arm in a half-circle "?I think you're about to become the most popular official in Venice."

Erik and Dorma turned their heads, following Manfred's gesture. Erik was startled to see the size of the crowd that had already formed alongside the canal, with more and more people pouring in from little side streets. And as the flotilla passed by a small side canal, he could see that it was full of gondolas. All of them were packed with onlookers, for all the world as if they were going on a family promenade. As soon as Lord Dorma's flotilla passed the mouth of the canal, the much larger flotilla of gondolas came following behind.

At first, Erik was surprised that the crowd was so quiet. Almost completely silent, in fact. But before long he understood. Venice's canalers and working classes were still not sure about the nature and purpose of Dorma's flotilla. True, it looked as if…

But the Venetian authorities had a long history of looking the other way, when it came to the transgressions of the Dandelos. So who could be sure that this would not just turn out to be another empty gesture?

"They're wondering about us," murmured Manfred. "Look at 'em whispering back and forth, all through that mob. On the one hand, the Knights are supposed to be nothing but tools for the Emperor?which means the Montagnards, to them. On the other hand…"

He examined his fellow Knights, standing in the barge, and grinned. "We are a rather fearsome lot to be hauling around just for show."

Erik wasn't sure whether to smile or frown. Once again, Francesca's influence on Manfred was showing. Not so many weeks ago, Manfred wouldn't have been able to analyze a foreign crowd so surely and readily. For that matter?not so many weeks ago?the thought of doing so would never even have crossed his mind. Wine, women, and song, it had been?and very lightly on the "song." Since he'd met that one particular woman, however…

He doesn't even drink that much anymore. Will wonders never cease?

But he had no time to pursue the thought further. The grim and imposing edifice of Casa Dandelo loomed ahead of them. Even at a distance, it was obvious the Dandelos had forted up. There was not a person to be seen anywhere in the immediate vicinity.

Except one.

"What in the name of God is that boy doing?" demanded Von Gherens. "Crazy kid!"

Erik stared at the small figure perched on one of the timbers holding up the roof of Casa Dandelo. "Perched" like a bat, not a bird. The kid was hanging upside down.

"I guess he wanted the best possible view," said Manfred. He loosened his great sword in its scabbard. "So let's not disappoint him."

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.