There was a startled silence from the two thieves. "Oh. That's very sudden," said Claudia. "We thought . . ."
"It's not exactly something that can wait," said Maria bluntly.
Valentina and Claudia exchanged glances. "How long . . ."
"At least two months," said Maria, shortly. "And, no--I don't know who the father is. Probably Caesare. Um. Maybe not. I always took precautions with him, after the first few days. The other thing happened too quickly--"
She broke off, squaring her shoulders. "What difference does it make? It's either Caesare or one other, and either way if I don't get married it's a bastard."
She shook her head. "Never mind. My cousin Mario is a sweet man--I've known him since I was a kid--and he says he doesn't mind. It'll work out. I won't marry for security and I won't marry for position and I definitely won't marry someone who still doesn't know if he's a fox or a wolf."
She looked at Claudia and Valentina. They were staring at her. I'm babbling, she realized. And why am I telling this to a couple of thieves? "So. Enough of that. Where can I put you off?"
"Er. Here will do fine," said Valentina. She sounded as uncertain as Maria sounded to herself.
THE ROAD TO ROME ----------------
When Father Eneko Lopez and his two companions recognized the three horsemen who overtook them on the road to Rome, their jaws fell. Even the Basque priest, for a moment, lost his composure.
"Your Majesty?" croaked Diego. He glanced at Lopez, seeking confirmation. Lopez had spent time with the Emperor in private discussion; Diego hadn't.
Eneko's jaw snapped shut, almost audibly. "This is most unwise, Your Majesty. The Holy Roman Emperor should not be traveling the roads of Italy escorted only by two bodyguards." His eyes squinted at the costume Charles Fredrik was wearing. "Especially not disguised as a prosperous merchant."
Charles Fredrik's scowled. "Nattering at me like Trolliger! And here I'd been looking forward to your company, too."
He plucked at the rich fabric. "As for this, it's far more comfortable than my imperial robes--much less armor. And it's necessary, anyway, to keep my identity a secret. It is essential that I be able to meet with the Grand Metropolitan in person." Breezily: "I'll not forget to put in a good word in favor of founding your order, Eneko, be sure of it." Less breezily: "And--ah--I felt the secrecy was needed, not for only for its own sake, but because--ah--"
Pierre barked a laugh. The Emperor's face darkened a little.
"Well, yes," admitted the most powerful man in Europe. "The last time a Holy Roman Emperor visited Rome he may have left some residue of ill will. Seeing as how he sacked the city. So I felt a certain modesty and discretion would make for better diplomatic results. I have got to bring this damn Petrine-Pauline feud under control. Down to a simmer, at least." He brought hard eyes to bear on the three priests who hoped to found a new brotherhood of struggle against a rising Satan. "As I'm sure you will agree, under the circumstances."
Eneko nodded. "As to that--certainly. But . . . Your Majesty, it's simply dangerous."
The Emperor's laugh sounded like a lion's roar. "Oh, nonsense!" He slapped a meaty hand on the even meatier shoulder of the man riding to his right. "Here I have my nephew, who quite recently"--the ferocious old man couldn't keep the pride out of his voice--"broke the back of a Svear demon. You saw it yourself, Father! And to my left--"
Another meaty hand slapped a shoulder which, though sinewy rather than massive, sounded more like iron than flesh. "The finest scion of Clann Harald!"
Eneko smiled grimly. "Who, on the same day--unless I'm badly mistaken--gave Chernobog himself the worst headache of his life." He raised his hands in a little gesture of surrender. "I suppose you're right, Emperor. With such an escort, you probably don't have much to fear from highwaymen."
"I'd say not," murmured Diego. "In fact . . . I'd feel a little better myself, having them accompany us."
"Done, then!" pronounced the Emperor. "You will provide us with still more in the way of disguise--pilgrims going to Rome--along with your own convivial conversation, of course. And we will keep the odd ruffian from pestering you."
Pierre nodded solemnly, in the sage manner of peasants everywhere. "Well said. Ask any Savoyard. It's always best to have a second string for your bow."
THE PIAZZA SAN MARCO --------------------
Venice slept. The last celebrants had gone home. Dawn would be here in a few hours, but for now the great winged lion looked out over a sleeping town. Well, nearly.
Kat and Marco stood in each other's arms at the base of the Lion's column, looking out at the moonlight on the dark water of the lagoon.
The moonlight cast a great winged shadow over them, and the piazza that is Venice's heart. Like a shield.