Heart of Glass - By Sasha Gould Page 0,91

be saying prayers of thanks all night!”

“It’s not a miracle, Faruk,” she replies in Italian. “Your killing men found Emen in my place. By her death, your crime is seen.”

The Doge motions his head, and several soldiers, sensing the shift in power once more, draw their swords. Faruk’s attendants do the same. Most of the Councilors, my father included, huddle around the perimeter of the chamber.

“You would not harm an ambassador?” asks Faruk.

The Doge points at him, taking a step nearer. “I would not,” he says. “I will show you more respect than you have shown us. Go back to your cowardly master. Tell him that if he has not left my harbor within the hour, I will smash his ships under the iron fist of Venice. Do you understand?”

Faruk looks to his men, then backs away, before turning and retreating to the door through which he entered. Aysim takes her seat beside me once again and smiles.

“Did I perform well?” she asks in French.

“Perfectly,” I say. “It’s time for us to go down and tell our story.”

The Councilors are stunned into silence, and Massimo’s face burns red with shame. The Doge stands before them.

“We were all taken in by Halim’s deception,” he says, “but now we must stand together again. Swear loyalty to me, and the past will be forgotten.”

One by one, the members of the Council line up to kneel at the Doge’s feet and kiss the ring on his right hand. I hear my father muttering something about “never doubting you, my lord”; loyalty is as fickle as the winds of the sea.

Massimo, I notice, is last in line. “Forgive me,” he says, bowing obsequiously.

The Doge’s jaw is set hard. “Of all those who turned against me, your actions were the most disappointing.”

“My lord, I—”

“But you are a good soldier, and Venice needs you more than ever,” he says. “Halim may still risk a fight. Can I trust you, Massimo?”

“I will do everything in my power to serve you,” says the soldier.

The Doge’s face relaxes into a smile. “Then go. Keep the fleet on alert.”

Massimo steps down from the dais and summons his men around him. They process out of the chamber, leaving only the Doge, Aysim and me.

“Come here, child,” the Doge tells me. He takes my hand and brings me to sit beside him. “I owe you everything.”

“Our fight is not over yet,” I warn him. “It has only just begun.”

45

My limbs feel heavy with tiredness, yet my mind is awash with a hundred thoughts. I kiss Roberto farewell and make my way back home with Faustina. Aysim has been given a room in the palace, and the parties are already under way as news of Faruk’s departure spreads. Apparently his oarsmen rowed him from the harbor at quite a pace. Musicians sprinkle the alleys with their melodies, and laughter, so long absent from our city, seems to have returned. I hear snatches of a conversation between two laborers in the doorway of a tavern. “I always knew the Doge had it in him!” one says.

I can’t help a rueful smile. Only a few days ago, people were saying that the Doge’s days were numbered. Now they clamor to pour praise on his head.

Father is already at home. As I walk into his library, accompanied by Faustina, he twists round in his tall armchair to look at me.

“I suppose I owe you an apology,” he says, closing his book.

“That’s up to you,” I reply. “You’re the master of this house, after all.”

His face softens, but he drops his gaze. “I was wrong about Roberto,” he says. “He will make a fine husband.”

“Better than Vincenzo?” I ask.

Faustina snorts with derision, but Father silences her with a glare. A smile plays on his lips. “Perhaps,” he mutters. “Although he will surely be a hero when his fleet helps defeat those wretched Turks.”

“Surely Halim will not fight now,” I say.

“He’d be a fool to do so,” my father agrees. “Massimo has stockpiled enough gunpowder to sink Halim’s fleet of ships—to sink ten fleets!”

Not if Teresa’s information is correct, he hasn’t. But there’s no reason my father would know this. “Then let us hope there’s no bloodshed at all,” I say.

“At any rate, this is men’s work now,” Father says, turning back to his book.

After I’ve left the room, Faustina begins to climb the stairs. “Would you like me to take the pins out of your hair?” she asks.

Something is troubling me, and it’s not just my father’s brash