him.'
'Will he live?' whispered Benito.
'Too early to tell,' said one of the hospitalers critically. 'But we'll have him on these planks and up there in two shakes of a lamb's tail. If you'll get out of the way, sir.'
Hastily, Benito complied.
Meanwhile, Umberto called to two of the men who were struggling to push the timber further out so that the gate could be closed.
'The timber at the bottom is not going to move, Alberto! There's too much weight on it.'
'So what do we do?' asked the other. 'We need to be able to close this gate.'
Umberto took a critical look. 'They're still using it as a shelter. Let's move what we can on the top. It's only two or three of the lower balks that should be a problem. Maybe if we can get a lever of some sort to them.'
Benito found himself manhandling huge pieces of keel and strut timber, when Maria came past. She was so busy talking to another woman that she didn't notice her husband, or Benito.
Working side-by-side with Verrier, Benito was finally coming to accept, not simply acknowledge, the truth of what everyone had always said about Umberto. He was a quiet, good man who loved his craft. And he was, by the looks of it, very good at it. Benito had met Umberto once or twice over the years, briefly, if not socially; a bridge- brat went everywhere and saw everything. He knew him to look at if not to talk to. But everybody always said the man was a solid fellow.
Working with him, Benito had to concede that they were right. He'd prepared himself to find reasons to dislike Umberto. Now he found that it was impossible.
And it stuck in his craw. And he hated that it stuck in his craw. Did life always have to be such a confusing mess?
Benito left organizing the off-loading of the galleys and the orderly retreat from the beach to Manfred. He concentrated instead on helping to lever the pile of timber a little further out, while Umberto organized ropes on each timber so that they could be snaked back over the wall. Umberto was a typical Venetian in that way. Not wasteful.
Benito was rewarded, when, a little while later, he saw Maria, still walking with her friend, still talking, stop abruptly and gawp at the two of them, working next to each other.
Chapter 37
'I can't deny I'm very glad to see reinforcements, Prince Manfred. I've been wishing I had some way of getting word to Venice.'
Captain-General Tomaselli limped over to a cabinet on the wall, hauled out a metal flask and a tray of Venetian glassware, and limped back to his table. 'Try this, gentlemen. I think we all need something a great deal stronger than wine. It's from the mainland. They distill it from plums, I believe.' He poured the clear liquid into glasses and motioned that they should help themselves. He took one of the glasses.
'Is a lady permitted to try some too?' asked Francesca.
'Of course. Of course!' The flustered Venetian handed her a glass. 'Unless you would prefer some wine? This stuff is frightfully strong.'
Francesca lowered her lashes. 'I think, milord, after the morning we've had, I'd better have some strong drink.' She tossed it back without any sign of discomfort.
That was more than could be said for Erik. He choked and spluttered. Even Manfred went a little red. Benito sipped the clear liquid cautiously. It burned his throat and all the way down to his gut. Only Von Gherens managed to drink it with anything like Francesca's aplomb.
The captain-general stared at her with respect, for the first time seeing something beyond her cleavage. 'Saints alive!' He shook his head. 'I can't drink the stuff like that. Did you enjoy it?'
Francesca smiled and nodded her head.
The captain-general sat down, shaking his own. 'Well. Back to the matter in hand. The podesta has offered the officers—and you, of course, Prince Manfred—quarters in the Castel
'Where are the rest?' asked Manfred.
'About a hundred and seventy are on Vidos—that small islet out there. The rest were stationed in various towns and villages. Still, this siege can't hold. There are relatively few men out there, and they don't appear to have any siege pieces.'
Manfred looked grim. 'The guns and a lot more men are on their way, I'm afraid. You're in for the long haul. How are you for food and water?
'There are a couple of springs on the Citadel, and we have reservoirs here in the castle. The reservoirs are full, and this soon after winter, the springs are strong. As for food . . . we're not so well-off. Winter is over, but with the fleets coming and going, we're used to reprovisioning wheat, particularly on the autumn convoy. So we're about half way. Good for eight months at the very least. Arms are the one thing we have plenty of.'
'Well, even rocks will do when it comes to defending walls,' said Erik. 'Rocks and enough people is what we need. And we have enough rocks, even if we could use more people.'
'We brought you a good supply of knights and some extra citizens,' said Von Gherens with a smile. 'How are the Corfiotes outside the walls being treated?'
The captain-general blinked. 'We've seen a lot of fires. Could be Venetian villas burning. Could be some
