players sat on stools facing each other and played completely different songs. The monkey clapped along with the music and chattered in its own language. Flower-sellers cried out their wares. No doubt there were also cutpurses going about their stealthy business, and all kinds of mischief afoot in the alleys and under archways. But in Venice, many nights are like that.
Under the lantern posts, people played at dice and shuffled packs of cards, or stood about the cask stalls, sipping wine. The aromas of roast meat, frankincense and sweat hung heavy in the air. I breathed it all in, as if it was a precious and rare fragrance, and smiled at everyone around me, even the monkey. I should have been nervous, I suppose, but it felt as if I had to remember every moment, every masked face, and carry it all with me into my new world.
I held tight to Al-Qasim’s hand and we let the tide of people bear us forward, surrounded by silk, feathers and pale masks gleaming in the darkness. As we reached the pontoon where the others waited at the water’s edge, bells across the city struck midnight.
I sent up a silent prayer that this would not be the last time we ever heard the bells of Venice. Please , I prayed, please let us return one day. Let us come home .
‘Look!’ said Willem, as the palace roof exploded in white light.
‘Fireworks.’ Valentina clapped her hands together, delighted, and we all raised our faces to the sky to watch the rockets arc into the night and erupt in red starbursts.
‘Now!’ Luis hissed. ‘Quickly, while everyone’s distracted.’
So I turned my face from the fireworks, the dancing, the music and laughter and the city I loved, and ran through the dark to the boat — to the lagoon, to the sea, to the edge of Europe. To freedom.
They must have been following us even then.
6
I N WHICH OUR HEROINE EMBRACES THE OCEAN
Our ship was one of Venice’s grand trading galleys, with a triangular sail that soared above us and dozens of oars on each side, every one as long as a tree. I’d seen these ships at anchor on the lagoon, but never dreamed I’d set foot on one. We were, Al-Qasim told us, travelling in the most luxurious ship afloat, thanks to the machinations of Luis and the influence of Pietro. Our voyage to Constantinople would be both smooth and swift.
‘It had better be,’ Willem muttered, and went below to the cabin he shared with Al-Qasim and three other men.
Valentina and I were given the captain’s cabin, an unprecedented honour for which the dear man was awarded the most dazzling of Valentina’s smiles at every opportunity, lest he change his mind.
When we met on deck late the next morning, Venice had vanished beyond a misty horizon. The oarsmen were at restnow we were well out to sea and under sail, and some of them sat in small groups nearby, playing at dice and talking quietly. Valentina spent a few moments staring at the empty ocean, then turned away.
‘It won’t be for long,’ I said.
‘I still can’t believe it.’
‘I know.’
‘I have a better plan,’ she said. ‘Let’s go back and I will wring Fra Clement’s neck with my bare hands.’
I grinned. ‘I wonder if he realises we’ve gone.’
‘I hope not,’ said Al-Qasim. ‘Luis has devised all kinds of strategies to pretend that we are all still in Venice. He will lead the Inquisitors on a dance for many days yet.’
‘Luis is a good man,’ said Valentina.
Al-Qasim turned away to watch the wake of the ship. ‘Yes.’
We stood in silence for a few moments. If I’d allowed space in my heart for everything I was feeling, I’d have crawled into my bed and never come out. Instead, I clutched the rail and lifted my face up to the sky, my eyes half-closed against the sun.
‘Enough moping,’ said Valentina. ‘I think I need to rest. This business of bouncing up and down on the waves doesn’t seem to agree with me.’
‘Ships are horrible,’ said Willem. ‘Nothing good has ever happened to me on a
Under the lantern posts, people played at dice and shuffled packs of cards, or stood about the cask stalls, sipping wine. The aromas of roast meat, frankincense and sweat hung heavy in the air. I breathed it all in, as if it was a precious and rare fragrance, and smiled at everyone around me, even the monkey. I should have been nervous, I suppose, but it felt as if I had to remember every moment, every masked face, and carry it all with me into my new world.
I held tight to Al-Qasim’s hand and we let the tide of people bear us forward, surrounded by silk, feathers and pale masks gleaming in the darkness. As we reached the pontoon where the others waited at the water’s edge, bells across the city struck midnight.
I sent up a silent prayer that this would not be the last time we ever heard the bells of Venice. Please , I prayed, please let us return one day. Let us come home .
‘Look!’ said Willem, as the palace roof exploded in white light.
‘Fireworks.’ Valentina clapped her hands together, delighted, and we all raised our faces to the sky to watch the rockets arc into the night and erupt in red starbursts.
‘Now!’ Luis hissed. ‘Quickly, while everyone’s distracted.’
So I turned my face from the fireworks, the dancing, the music and laughter and the city I loved, and ran through the dark to the boat — to the lagoon, to the sea, to the edge of Europe. To freedom.
They must have been following us even then.
6
I N WHICH OUR HEROINE EMBRACES THE OCEAN
Our ship was one of Venice’s grand trading galleys, with a triangular sail that soared above us and dozens of oars on each side, every one as long as a tree. I’d seen these ships at anchor on the lagoon, but never dreamed I’d set foot on one. We were, Al-Qasim told us, travelling in the most luxurious ship afloat, thanks to the machinations of Luis and the influence of Pietro. Our voyage to Constantinople would be both smooth and swift.
‘It had better be,’ Willem muttered, and went below to the cabin he shared with Al-Qasim and three other men.
Valentina and I were given the captain’s cabin, an unprecedented honour for which the dear man was awarded the most dazzling of Valentina’s smiles at every opportunity, lest he change his mind.
When we met on deck late the next morning, Venice had vanished beyond a misty horizon. The oarsmen were at restnow we were well out to sea and under sail, and some of them sat in small groups nearby, playing at dice and talking quietly. Valentina spent a few moments staring at the empty ocean, then turned away.
‘It won’t be for long,’ I said.
‘I still can’t believe it.’
‘I know.’
‘I have a better plan,’ she said. ‘Let’s go back and I will wring Fra Clement’s neck with my bare hands.’
I grinned. ‘I wonder if he realises we’ve gone.’
‘I hope not,’ said Al-Qasim. ‘Luis has devised all kinds of strategies to pretend that we are all still in Venice. He will lead the Inquisitors on a dance for many days yet.’
‘Luis is a good man,’ said Valentina.
Al-Qasim turned away to watch the wake of the ship. ‘Yes.’
We stood in silence for a few moments. If I’d allowed space in my heart for everything I was feeling, I’d have crawled into my bed and never come out. Instead, I clutched the rail and lifted my face up to the sky, my eyes half-closed against the sun.
‘Enough moping,’ said Valentina. ‘I think I need to rest. This business of bouncing up and down on the waves doesn’t seem to agree with me.’
‘Ships are horrible,’ said Willem. ‘Nothing good has ever happened to me on a
Similar Books
