"He dipped the branch in holy water. He has blessed the doge."

Pilot boats leapt ahead of the bucintoro, to guide it, and the bucintoro and the patriarchal piatto followed. The rest of the procession crowded behind them.

"Now what?"

"Not much until we reach theLido ."

William looked disappointed, and looked back the way the way we had come. "I want a better view of the war galleys. I am heading back."

William walked to the stern of our gondola, had a look about, and then turned to look forward. He stayed where he was, however. I smiled; it appeared that the young lord was tired of tutoring. For that matter, I was content to just watch the spectacle myself.

I didn't know it at the time, but he was under observation.

The procession finally reached theLido . The patriarch poured water into the sea from a largeampulla .

The doge raised his arm above the waves.

"What's going on, Mister Hobbes?" asked William. "Isn't there enough water in the ocean already?"

"The patriarch just blessed theAdriatic with holy water. The doge holds a golden ring in his hands. He will say, 'Desponsamus te mare, in signum veri perpetuique dominii.'"

William's Latin was equal to this challenge. "We marry you, oh sea, as a symbol of perpetual domination."

"Yes.Venice rules the sea even as a husband rules his wife," I said. "In theory, at least." I didn't explain which proposition was true only in theory.

The crowd roared as the doge dropped a golden ring into theAdriatic .

"How long has this ceremony been performed, Mister Hobbes?"

"There has been aSensa celebration for over six centuries; it honors a naval victory on the Ascension Day of 997. It used to just be the blessing of the waters. But in 1177 Pope Alexander III gave a ring to the doge, and said that it was a symbol of Venetian naval supremacy. The ring which is cast into the sea each year is modeled on that original."

"Is this the original bucintoro?"

"I don't think so." I conferred with the gondolier. "No, there have been several of them, over the years.

This bucintoro first sailed in 1606. It cost seventy thousand ducats."

"Did the one before it sink?"

"No. It got too dilapidated and leaky, so the Venetians replaced it." I chuckled. "It would be funny if the bucintoro sank with the doge on it. AllEurope would say, 'he finally decided to consummate his marriage to the sea.'"

I settled into a chair and pulled out a book to read. After a while, I closed my eyes. I felt the pleasant, warm caress of the afternoon sun and relaxed. I needed to relax; the Sensa ceremony had been the culmination of two weeks of carousing inVenice and I had to keep constant attendance on William. But now I could relax.

The next thing I knew, it was dark outside and I was hungry.

"Geoffrey? I would like to speak to His Lordship."

"He's out, sir."

"Out? Out where?"

"A gondola came to pick him up."

"Whose gondola?"

"Some lady or another. Very finely dressed. Lots of pearls."

"My G.o.d-you let him go without telling me? You didn't find out her name?"

"There was fancy writing on her gondola, sir. Ask our gondolier. He was up and about at the time."

I rushed down to our townhouse's little dock. Our gondolier was napping, inside his boat. I shook him awake.

"His Lordship, where is he?"

"He is in the best of hands, sir. He went off with Lucrezia Cognati."

"Who might that be? Some contessa? Acittadina ?"

"Oh no. Acortigiana honesta . Of the first rank."

A courtesan. "We must rescue him at once." The gondolier rolled his eyes but said nothing. "Where does she live?"

"Near the Campo San Ca.s.siano. On the Ponte delle Tette."

I stormed into the courtesan's house, followed closely by Samuel and Geoffrey. The lady's bodyguard, a muscular Moor, appeared and asked our business. When he refused to let us interrupt Lucrezia and William, I rushed past him and the estimable Samuel clipped the bodyguard when he turned to follow.

What a team we were.

The second line of defense was the lady's maid, who was screaming at us like a harpy out of the myths.

Even though she was the servant to a bawd, she could not be treated so forcefully.

"Calm yourself, woman. We are here to claim what is ours."

She stopped screaming, and suddenly looked sly. "Oh, what might that be?"

"A young gentleman, entrusted to my care."

"How young? An infant?"

"Certainly not."

"A pity, for every woman yearns to hold an infant in her arms."

"I don't want to strike you, but if you continue-"

"Wait. Does he have blond curls, lovely enough to make a lady's fingers itch?"

"Don't be impertinent. Where is he?"

"Receiving an education yonder." She pointed, languidly, at a closed door. "That is the purpose of his travels, isn't it?" She smiled at Samuel, who smiled right back, d.a.m.n him.

"Enough!" I burst into the boudoir, surprising Lucrezia and William in the very act of- Playing a game of chess.

Northern Italy May, 1633 "I can't eat anymore," said William. "I just can't."

We had taken the ca.n.a.l boat back toPadua and then followed the main caravan route fromVenice to the Germanies: west throughPadua andVicenza toVerona , then north up the Adige, to Trento andBolzano .

There, we left the river valley, and headed northeast toward theBrennerPa.s.s.

We took lodging in Bressanone, at the famousInn at the Sign of the Elephant. The food at the inn was tasty, and the portions were, well, elephantine. In fact, one of the traditions was to bring you a huge platter of meat, and, if you could finish by yourself, it was on the house. No one, not even a fifteen-and-a-half year old boy who had been riding all day, was equal to the task. With a sigh, William pushed his plate away.

On the outside of the inn was a gigantic fresco, with a life-sized rendition of an Indian elephant, complete with a turbaned mahout on its back. I told William the story behind it.

"In 1550, King John III ofPortugal gave an Indian elephant to Archduke Maximilian the Second of Austria. Maximilian, at that time, was living inSpain . Maximilian was summoned home, and he took the elephant with him. We are following in its footsteps."

"Watching where we walk," William quipped.

It would have been beneath my dignity to respond. "By the time the beast reached Bressanone its strength had ebbed, and its handlers allowed it to rest at the High Field Inn for two weeks. That's the old name of this inn. Then they rode it across the Brenner Pa.s.s, and ultimately made a triumphal entrance intoVienna ."

"Well, if an elephant can cross theAlps , we shouldn't have any difficulty," William said. Thereby tempting Fate, I think.

The next day, we were in Vipiteno, our final stop before theBrenner Pa.s.s itself. Knowing that a rough day was ahead of us, I urged William and the servants to retire early that evening.

The following morning, the innkeeper motioned me over. "Plague," he whispered. "Word came in last night."

"Here, in Vipiteno?"

"No, thank G.o.d, not here." He crossed himself. "Still, it isn't far away. It is inInnsbruck . Many cases, I hear."

It would not be easy, coming from the Brenner Pa.s.s, to swing wide ofInnsbruck , and thus avoid the plague carriers.

"What about theReschenPa.s.s ?" I asked. TheReschenPa.s.s lay northwest of Merano, a town further up the Adige thanBolzano .

"Bandits are a big problem right now. One of Tilly's mercenary companies decided that charging tolls was more profitable than soldiering. Then they got tired of that and just used the pa.s.s as a base for raiding the villages nearby. The Jaegers will deal with them eventually, but with the plague inInnsbruck , they probably won't clear out the Reschen until June or even July."

"That's too late for me. Any other choices?"

"It depends."

"On what?"

"On how crazy you are."

"Never mind, then. Can I get something to drink?"

My resolution to do nothing didn't last long. Samuel approached me. He had a gift for languages, which no doubt had come in handy in the past.

"You heard about the plague inInnsbruck ?"

"Yes."

"Well, there's a rumor going around that the first case was someone who had an argument with an English visitor. So now some folk are saying that the Englishman laid a curse onInnsbruck , and that's what brought the plague."

"Enough." I turned to the innkeeper. "I changed my mind. I am crazy enough to hear about option three."

"It is the high pa.s.s, the Pa.s.so del Rombo. The Timmelsjoch. Or, as we called it in the village I was born in, the Secret Pa.s.sage."

"Secret sounds good. Leaving immediately sounds even better."

"I will give you a letter of introduction to your guide. He lives in the village of San Leonardo de Pa.s.siria.

You head west from here in the direction of Merano, you go over theJauffenPa.s.s , and then San Leonardo lies below you, where the Veltina meets the Pa.s.siria."

"Thank you."

"Mention me in your prayers." The innkeeper checked something in the ledger, then looked up. "I must warn you, the guide is not quite right in the head."

"Why do you say that?"

"He climbs. For the fun of it."

Crossing theAlps May, 1633 Our guide was Joseph Hofer, a chamois hunter, and the younger son of the innkeeper of San Leonardo.

"So, you wish to cross the Timmelsjoch. You have come to the right man. It is still a bit early in the season, but have no fear.

"There are five of you, yes? With mules?"

I corrected him. "With three mules, and two horses."

"Horses, you say? Unless they be mountain-bred, exchange them for mules. Speak to the innkeeper, while I gather the equipment for five new mountaineers."

"Equipment?" Joseph had already disappeared into a storeroom. I shrugged, and went off to search for the innkeeper.

While I was away, Joseph decided to have some fun with William. I didn't learn the particulars until after we had crossed the Timmelsjoch, but I set the incident down now in its proper place.