“What’s this treachery?” Hegel demanded.

“You’re mutineers, and as captain, it’s my duty before God to see you hang,” Giuseppe breathed in Hegel’s ear. “I told Angelino not to take on this voyage, and had he listened to his mate he would be alive and you dogs would already be dead.”

“A fine thanks for us savin your lives,” said Manfried.

Sir Jean called to Giuseppe in Italian, and the man repeated it in German: “He wants to thank you for denting his armor and making it stink like a serf’s crack.”

Dinged and smelly though it may have been, Sir Jean had donned his armor again before sneaking upon the Grossbarts. He kicked the rigging by Lucian’s foot and nodded down at Manfried. All four then had a short and heated debate over whether to risk tying the Grossbarts’ hands before hoisting them. Deciding they could always shoot or stab them if they got themselves loose, they decided on their course.

“After we cut off your heads to present to our doge we sail home!” Giuseppe announced. “With Barousse’s besides, we shall receive a hero’s welcome, saying naught of your idiot captain’s gold.”

“You ready, brother?” Hegel asked in their secret tongue, but before Manfried could answer or act Giuseppe ran back down the deck, jerking Hegel to his feet. Tethered by his neck and bouncing on a swollen ankle, Hegel’s hand went to his belt but all his knives were gone. He caught sight of a scarlet sash poking out from behind the mast, and hatred mingled with his gloom.

“You snivelin twat!” Hegel gurgled. “Supposed to be with us! Supposed to help us fight Her enemies!”

“The Will of Mary will be served.” Martyn sheepishly stepped out from behind his cover. “We are but instruments of a greater will.”

“Damn you!” Manfried elbowed Sir Jean, his elbow shooting pain up his shoulder as it connected with the knight’s armor. “You’s goddamn heretics, all a yous!”

“The pity’s we can’t burn you!” Giuseppe yanked Hegel off the ground, the Grossbart seizing the rope with both hands to avoid a snapped neck. Swinging around, he kicked at Giuseppe but the man hoisted him higher. Hegel’s feet futilely tried to find purchase on the sail behind him.

“By my brother’s beard, better yous crucify us!” Manfried howled, kicking at Lucien.

“An excellent idea!” agreed Martyn, who cut loose two lengths of cord and began shimming up the mast with his good arm.

“Hey now,” Giuseppe called, “we haven’t the nails or the time.”

“Actually,” Martyn panted, pausing in his ascent, “rope will suffice, for it is God that does the slaying.”

Sir Jean asked Giuseppe what in the Hell was going on, but rather than supporting his new captain the knight cackled when Giuseppe translated. The suggestion also calmed the condemned, so Giuseppe relented-at least for the first Grossbart. He rasied Hegel higher, and the Grossbart eventually swung in enough that Martyn could grab him. Of course, this meant Hegel could also grab Martyn, which he did even though it meant his life.

The noose tightened around Hegel’s throat, throttling him as he throttled Martyn. Then Hegel saw the handle of his dagger jutting out from Martyn’s robe and he released his grip, fumbling around until he hooked an arm over the crossbeam. He glared at the sputtering cardinal, who nearly fell from his roost.

Exchanging whispered oaths with Martyn, Hegel relented and had his arms loosely tied around the crossbeam to give the appearance of being bound while his hands and elbows truly supported him. From here he realized the rope around his neck stretched over the opposite crossbeam, meaning he would still be hanged if he came loose or Giuseppe tightened the tether.

On the deck, even Giuseppe had become distracted by Raphael, who had worn through his bindings on a jutting nail and tackled Lucian. Manfried snatched hold of his noose and jumped away, pulling Sir Jean with him. The knight knew better than to release the leashed Grossbart and was dragged forward as Manfried swung away, nearly tripping over Lucian and Raphael. Martyn stopped halfway down the mast, Hegel’s dagger set conspicuously on the crossbeam behind the Grossbart’s left hand.

Giuseppe realized the situation had changed and yanked on Hegel’s rope with all his might, then tied it around the railing behind him. Martyn had bound Hegel just tightly enough to appear convincing, but with the rope tugging him up toward the foremast’s crossbeam he could not slip his arms out in time. Hegel felt the cord cut into his neck, able only to choke and pray.

Still suspended by his own rope, Manfried swung back toward the knight. Lucian and Raphael rolled beneath him, each with a hand on the hilt of Lucian’s sword. Sir Jean accepted Manfried’s legs squarely in his chest and fell backward, but since he held tight to the rope this caused Manfried to ascend higher into the air. Giuseppe hacked at his flailing legs but before he found meat Leone let out a yelp and fired his crossbow.

Rodrigo had appeared by the ladder, and Leone’s bolt sailed over his shoulder. The sailor frantically began reloading while Giuseppe charged Rodrigo, who had no idea why events were unfolding thus but drew his sword lest the incensed first mate run him through. Sir Jean scrambled upright, lowering Manfried in the process.

“Hegel!” Manfried yelped, catching sight of Rodrigo.

Rodrigo glanced up at the crucified Grossbart and almost lost his ear for it. Giuseppe’s cutlass brushed his face but Rodrigo parried it and backed away. The head conspirator compensated for lack of skill with ferocity, whereas Rodrigo’s lengthy training was supplemented by little experience in the school of actual combat. The young man’s brilliant feint therefore slipped past his rival’s blade and tagged Giuseppe’s left hand, but then Rodrigo had his scalp clipped of flesh and hair by the enraged Giuseppe.

Lights began appearing to Hegel, legs kicking and teeth gritted. The sounds below faded and shadows filled the perimeter of his vision, closing in around the growing specks of light. Then they were swallowed by the black tide, leaving Hegel alone and blind.

Martyn shimmied back up the mast out of self-preservation but when he reached the crossbeam he realized what had happened to Hegel. Getting his balance on the crossbeam, he bumped the dagger with his knee and it tumbled into the hold. Unsure what else to do, he began untying Hegel’s arms with his only usable hand.

Raphael kneed Lucian in the groin but the sailor headbutted him, breaking the brigand’s nose for the third time in his life. Another crotch-shot from Raphael, and Lucian released the sword and consciousness just long enough for Raphael to seize the weapon and scramble to his feet. He booted Lucian in the face, returning the nasal favor. Half-blind from the blood and pain radiating from his nose, he spun around for a target and found Sir Jean within range.

The knight felt his panic returning as things became less like butchering the uppity peasants comprising the Jacquerie in his native province and more like the brutal battle at Poitiers, although there he had laid down his sword and enjoyed a comfortable period of relaxation until his ransom was paid. Naïve though he might have been, he knew better than to expect such honorable treatment from this lot. He released the rope, dropping the suspended Manfried onto Raphael’s shoulders. Both men fell to the ground and Sir Jean drew the sword he had found the night before.

Rodrigo stumbled back with blood burning in one eye and dodged the next swipe of Giuseppe’s sword. By Providence they had battled across the deck until they were near Hegel’s rope, which Giuseppe inadvertently severed when Rodrigo ducked. The rope snapped past Giuseppe’s face and on reflex he jumped back, his knee buckling on the lip of the hold. The head conspirator fell backward into the exposed hold and went under the brackish surface for a moment, then came up to see the unmoored Hegel tumbling toward him. Martyn had freed Hegel’s left arm and had made enough progress with the right that when the rope went slack Hegel slipped out of the bond and fell.