But there was no time for reflection. Silvio turned into ever-narrower streets until, at last, the odor of fish and sewage told Magdalena they were approaching the boat landing along the Danube. Between buildings she spotted the jetty, stacked high with crates and barrels. Behind these, small boats bobbed along the shore, and the dark outline of a wooden crane rose up from the quay wall. Silvio ran in great strides toward the jetty.
Magdalena turned to find that the stranger was now only a few paces back. She cursed softly. Why had Silvio brought them to this godforsaken place? They would have been safer if only they’d stayed at the Whale! The stranger wouldn’t have dared attack them in front of all the patrons, but here they were alone and helpless. Again she heard the sounds of several more pairs of feet behind them; apparently they would have to fend off a number of pursuers.
Silvio jumped into an empty rowboat tied to the jetty and beckoned to her to follow. As she stepped in, she felt the nearly ten-foot-long boat begin to pitch. How did the Venetian intend to use an unsteady boat like this to his advantage?
With a great leap the stranger landed in the boat with them. His voice was high and shrill, almost childlike. “In the name of-” he began, but Silvio stopped him with a shout. The Venetian charged his pursuer, drew his rapier, and attacked. His opponent skillfully parried the blow, and they crossed swords again and again, moving from one side of the boat to the other. Time and time again, the men jumped over coils of rope and slippery wooden benches as the boat pitched and tossed, demanding a great deal of skill of the combatants.
Magdalena meanwhile cowered in the back of the boat to watch the men slash away at each other, sweat pouring down their foreheads. Silvio was an excellent swordsman, but the baldheaded stranger was so skilled with his rapier one might believe he was born with it in his hand. Again and again he found gaps in the Venetian’s defenses, and each time Silvio was only able to parry the blow frantically at the very last moment.
Silvio was now backed into the bow of the tiny vessel, his leather boots slipping on the wavering rail. The stranger thrust once more at Silvio, almost sending him overboard, but with feline agility Silvio sprang upward to grab a rope dangling from the crane directly above him and swung over the stranger’s head. When he landed in the middle of the boat, the vessel rocked so violently Magdalena feared it might capsize.
The stranger struggled to keep his balance as he swayed from left to right as if intoxicated. When he finally managed to stabilize himself again, he swung his blade in a perfect semicircle, catching Silvio’s shirt with the tip of his rapier. With a nasty ripping sound, the shirt tore open and blood came seeping out. The little ambassador staggered, stumbling on a coil of rope and collapsing against the railing with a moan.
Smiling victoriously, the stranger bent over him, holding his rapier to his opponent’s neck, where a small rivulet of blood was forming. Silvio’s expensive hat had slipped from his head, and he stared up wide-eyed at his opponent, expecting the final blow at any moment.
“It’s over, Silvio Contarini,” the bald man gasped in a high-pitched voice. “In the name of the kaiser-”
He fell silent, his mouth forming a silent O as blood poured from his lips. For one last moment he stood there, swaying back and forth, before his eyes turned up to the breaking dawn. Then, with a loud splash, he fell over the railing into the water, where his body bobbed gently in the current.
“What happened, Silvio? Is he dead?”
As Magdalena leaped up with relief, she saw a crossbow bolt protruding from between the stranger’s shoulder blades.
“Food for the fish,” the Venetian panted. His gaze rested a moment on his opponent’s corpse drifting away face-down; then he turned toward the shore.
“It was high time, wasn’t it?” he shouted into the slowly brightening gray of morning. “Maledetti! Why didn’t you shoot sooner?”
“Couldn’t have done it, master!” a deep voice replied from the other side of the quay. “I might have hit you, with all the running back and forth.”
In the very next moment three figures appeared out of the darkness, one holding a heavy crossbow. Magdalena caught her breath. They were the three roughnecks who’d been playing cards with Silvio at the Whale. Now she understood why she’d heard all those footsteps behind them as they fled. Evidently these three fellows served the ambassador and had followed their master only to save his life at the very last moment.
But why had they all fled the safety of the Whale in the first place? And why did the stranger speak of the kaiser just before he was killed?
Silvio approached Magdalena, smiling. He gently brushed a lock of hair from her face.
“Mea culpa,” he whispered. “I never should have put you in such danger. You’re too valuable. Madonna, what a waste that would have been!” His eyes glistened sadly as he ran his fingers through her thick black hair. “But you’re not only beautiful, you’re also clever. Too clever. And we need someone for our experiment anyway.”
“Ex-experiment?” she stammered. Then her voice failed her.
Silvio just nodded. “I’m really anxious to see how it will turn out this time, Magdalena. After all our failures, it’s high time we made a success of it.”
A blade flashed, and Silvio held up a lock of her hair. “Allow me this souvenir.” He bowed gallantly.
Meanwhile the three men had boarded the unsteady boat. To the east the sun was just cresting the horizon, a glowing red ball.
“What are we going to do with her?” the man with the crossbow growled. “Throw her overboard?”
Silvio sighed. “Grande stupido! You’ll have to bind and gag her. She’s unruly, and we don’t want our experiment to end up… um…” He frowned, searching for just the right word. “Dead in the water? Isn’t that what you say?”
Magdalena was speechless. Not until the three grinning, bull-necked monsters began to approach her with anchor ropes in hand did she pull herself together.
“What-what’s this all about?” she whispered.
Silvio shrugged. “You’ll get an explanation, just not here and not now. I know a nice quiet place where we’ll have all the time in the world to chat. So just keep still a little longer…”
“Take all the time you like, you dirty foreigner, but it will be without me.”
Like a slippery fish, Magdalena disappeared over the railing into the filthy, putrid green Danube. Dark waves passed over her as she swam away, but when she’d nearly escaped, powerful hands reached out and dragged her back on board. She struggled and kicked, but the men were too strong. In no time she found herself on the bottom of the boat, tied up like a bale of cloth, a moldy piece of linen stuffed in her mouth. She struggled against her bonds, moaning.
“If you promise not to scream, I can remove the gag,” Silvio offered sympathetically. “Believe me, it would be better for your complexion.”
When Magdalena nodded, one of the men took the cloth from her mouth. She spat out stinking river water and saliva.
“Who…?” she finally whispered. But she had no strength to finish.
“Who was he?” The little Venetian stared downstream, where the stranger’s body was now little more than a distant speck.
“Heinrich von Butten.” Silvio nodded respectfully. “The kaiser’s best agent, a superb swordsman. He was the only one who could have helped you.” A wan smile spread across his face. “And you beat him half to death in the cathedral. How ironic!”
He looked out over the Danube, whose water reflected the blood-red light of the rising sun. “It’s high time for our experiment,” he said, addressing his servants. “Let’s push off, shall we?”