Swan thought of Drappierro. And he thought of Prince Dorino, and his three traitors.

‘No,’ he said.

Bessarion shrugged. ‘It was a long shot at best.’ He rang the bell on his desk and rose. ‘You have a star from heaven on your finger.’

Swan drew it off and handed it to the cardinal. ‘I’m told it was the signet ring of the great Alexander.’

Bessarion slipped it on his finger. ‘We’ll dicker later. As usual, you have exceeded my expectations. Go and sin with your friends, and I’ll see you when I can make time for a cup of wine. Go – go – I don’t want the Pope’s French secretary to even know you exist.’

Swan slipped out the private door into the servants' corridor, and was enfolded in a deep embrace.

He looked into Di Brachio’s eyes. They were slightly too bright, as if fever had marked him – but he had weight on, and some muscles, and looked a little more alive than the last time Swan had seen him.

Alessandro grinned. ‘You English – everything loud, eh? Could you not have saved Chios quietly?’ He embraced the Englishman again.

Swan grinned back. ‘I missed you – and Giannis and Cesare – every day. I was … way over my head.’

‘Ah!’ Di Brachio said. ‘Welcome to the profession.’

And that night, they sat in a small, quiet inn north of the forum – all seven of them. Giovanni Acudi was brilliant in scarlet robes, and De Brescia looked more prosperous then Swan had ever seen him. Giannis and his new wife Irene sat hand in hand, almost uninterested in the others, and Peter sat with Di Brachio. The cardinal’s other Greeks were on a mission. It was not discussed.

He heard that De Brescia had been all the way to the Germanies and back, and that Acudi was trying a case against the Orsini and had to be protected by Giannis and thirty men. They drank, and drank, and went to vespers and returned and drank more.

‘What were you doing in Germany?’ Swan asked De Brescia, who laughed.

‘What indeed?’ the man answered. ‘I went to great conference – almost a parliament. Every ruler in Europe sent their representatives. They met to discuss a crusade, and I believe that I have never seen so many nobly born fools posture so ineptly. The Emperor sponsored the conference – although he does not want a crusade – and the English and French helped pay for it – although they hate each other worse than twenty Turks.’ He shrugged. ‘I was bribed every day.’ He snorted.

Giannis leaned forward. ‘Despite which, the Hungarians and the Germans may put something together.’ He put a finger to the side of his nose. ‘Do you know who this man is, called Hunyadi?’

Di Brachio smiled. ‘Fancy a visit to Romania?’ he asked, and everyone laughed except Peter and Swan, neither of whom understood.

Acudi drew on the table in wine. ‘Mehmet is going to try to take all the rest of the Empire,’ he said. ‘He has four armies preparing.’

‘And the Crusaders and their legate will rally to the Hungarians at Belgrade,’ Di Brachio said.

Swan shook his head. ‘I have a report to write,’ he said. But he laughed. And before the evening ended, they all drank to it.

‘To Belgrade!’ they all shouted.

Also By Christian Cameron

Tom Swan and the Head of St George

Volume One: Castillon

Volume Two: Venice

Volume Three: Constantinople

Volume Four: Rome

Volume Five: Rhodes

The Tyrant Series

Tyrant

Tyrant: Storm of Arrows

Tyrant: Funeral Games

Tyrant: King of the Bosporus

Tyrant: Destroyer of Cities

The Killer of Men Series

Killer of Men

Marathon

Poseidon’s Spear

Other Novels

Washington and Caesar

God of War

No money. No birthright. No mercy.

Meet William Gold …

Chios _2.jpg

Read CHRISTIAN CAMERON’S new novel set in the Hundred Years War

Out in hardback and ebook August 2013

Copyright

An Orion eBook

First published in Great Britain in 2013 by Orion Books

This eBook first published in 2013 by Orion Books

Copyright © Christian Cameron 2013

The moral right of Christian Cameron to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the copyright, designs and patents act 1988.

All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN: 978 1 4091 4562 2

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