When the crew secured the Sea Maiden to the pier at Vostitza, Gil, Sebastie, Aban, and I were the first ones off. Nerio Acioli, lord of the Castellany of Corinth and the Duchy of Athens, current hostage of the Navarrese, was an important man. If the Florentines wanted Eudocia to rescue him, then they would have brought her to Vostitza, one of the centers of Navarrese power in Greece, or to Listrina, the nearby castle where everyone assumed Acioli was held.
The Venetians had been good enough to find a spare hauberk to replace the one the Turks had stolen from me, and the four of us, in armor, drew stares from others walking along the dock. I glanced back at the ship. Cecilia stood on deck and watched the gentle hills that grew into larger ones farther to the south. Perhaps she felt my gaze, because her focus shifted to me. She acknowledged me with a nod, but all our interactions now seemed laced with sorrow.
“The Sea Maiden is a good galley,” Gil said. “But it’s not so large that you don’t come into contact with the other passengers unless you’re trying not to. Was she avoiding you the last half of our voyage?”
“Yes, and just as well. Duty to her family and her people will come first regardless of how she feels. And I have other things to concentrate on now.”
Gil grunted. “I’ll argue about that later.”
We left the Venetians behind to unload horses and supplies and make sleeping arrangements. I wasn’t sure if Bertaldo would find sleeping quarters for the four of us on land, but sleeping on the ship deck didn’t sound too awful, not to me. For Aban’s sake, I hoped there would at least be a bench in a courtyard available.
“Have you been here before?” Aban asked me.
“No. I haven’t been anywhere near this far south since Gil and I left Corinth ahead of the Navarrese Company eleven years ago.” Back then, the Peloponnese had been held by a variety of lords, and the broken-up nature of the land hadn’t changed, though some of the holdings had shifted.
“Then how do you know where to go?” Aban asked.
“He knows.” I nodded toward Sebastie, current member of the Navarrese Company and, therefore, key to our plan. Some of the men would remember Gil and me, those who had been with the company when we fought at Durazzo and Thebes. But some men would be more recent recruits. They might not talk to us, but they would talk to Sebastie.
Sebastie pointed to a building. “That taverna is a good one. Gillen and Rasheed, you’ll find members of the company there. I’ll take Aban and go to another that’s popular.”
Gil and I nodded and followed Sebastie’s advice, stepping into the taverna. The interior felt dark after being in the bright afternoon sunlight for so long. I blinked and gave my eyes time to adjust. Gil’s eyes would take even longer. I spotted a group that looked like mercenaries and went to join them.
A tall man named Ezquerra recognized me. “Rasheed! I haven’t seen you since our campaign to take Thebes. Where have you been?”
“After that battle, I thought a change of occupation was in order.”
“Ah, yes, I remember now. That skirmish at the city gate. You were magnificent! And you bled much by the time is was over. But you’re walking. You weren’t yet when I left for Livadeia.”
I nodded. Today I limped, but not as badly as I had the day before. I glanced at Gil. “You remember Gillen?”
“Ah, yes, Gillen the Basque. You also disappeared after Thebes fell.”
“We’ve been running a bathhouse.” Gil grasped Ezquerra’s arm in a brief greeting. “If you’re ever in Thebes, we offer complimentary services for old comrades.”
Several of the men nodded, looking impressed.
Gil smiled. “Nothing like a hot bath to relax in before catching up over drinks.”
“We do not have a bathhouse at our immediate service,” one with curly brown hair said. His face was familiar, but I couldn’t recall his name, just that he came from Gascony. “But we would be happy to catch up with you both over a cup of wine.”
We sat with them and brought the conversation around to the Navarrese Company’s abduction of Nerio Acioli.
“That man.” Ezquerra shook his head. “So welcoming when we came from Durazzo. And happy to send us on our way to seize lands from the Catalans.”
I remembered it well. Our campaign in Albania had been successful, but our employer’s death had left the company unpaid and unemployed. After that, we’d come to the Peloponnese at the request of the Knights Hospitallar, and when we’d completed our work with them, Nerio Acioli had suggested we head north to Thebes. Later, after we’d pushed the Catalans out of most of Boeotia, Nerio had purchased the company’s conquests. Some members of the company had come out well; others hadn’t.
One of the men huffed. “All those rich lands. Places that we risked our necks for, lands that we took. I wouldn’t begrudge Acioli for buying them from us had the snake not been so quick to turn on us.”
Ezquerra took a sip of wine and grimaced in agreement. “De Urtubia could manage Acioli well enough while he lived, but things between Pedro de San Superano and Nerio Acioli have never gone well.”
I’d liked de Urtubia, the leader of the company when we’d taken Thebes. I remembered San Superano too, though he’d never been my captain. He was a competent warrior whose tongue could be as sharp as his sword. Perhaps that explained the hostility between him and Acioli.
“It wasn’t just de Urtubia’s death,” another man said. “Theodore Paleologus showing up in the Morea made everything worse. The local Greeks didn’t like that he brought in Turks and Albanians to fill out his army, so we helped them fight him a few times. Paleologus grew to hate us, and when he married one of Acioli’s daughters, our relationship with Acioli took a turn for the worse.”
Gil and I nodded as needed but let the men tell the story. They continued recounting a series of fragile alliances and frequent betrayals.
“I don’t think there’s a group in the Duchy that Nerio Acioli hasn’t joined forces with at one point and turned against at another. He wouldn’t negotiate, not at all, when he came to meet with San Superano over Argos. It was a moment of great pleasure to tell him he was now our prisoner.”
“Is he behaving himself as a prisoner?” Gil asked.
“He has no choice but to behave. He has money to live well, even in captivity, so it can’t be too much of a hardship.”
“Do many people ask about him?” I asked.
One of the men nodded. “Oh yes. His brother has sent inquiries, and the Venetians are trying to arrange a deal—Nerio’s freedom in exchange for Argos. But Nerio doesn’t hold Argos; Theodore Paleologus does, and the despot is reluctant to let it go, even in exchange for the freedom of his wife’s father.”
“What about recently? In the last couple of days? Have you noticed a Greek woman, about thirty years of age, asking about him? Or a rich Venetian with his whiskers trimmed short?” I could have given better descriptions of Eudocia or Querini but wanted to get information from the men first.
“No. But I heard that last night, someone almost freed Nerio. Got deep inside the castle, then seemed to disappear when the guards were called.” His knuckles turned pale around the cup he gripped. “Security is tight at the castle. No one should have been able to get in. Let alone get out alive again.”
I glanced at Gil, sure that our thoughts were the same. Eudocia was here, and she had gotten inside the castle.
* * *
“She’ll try again,” Gil said when we left the taverna.
“Maybe she’ll succeed, and then whoever took her will let her go.”
Gil shook his head. “The company will be guarding Acioli even more closely now. For all her talents, she still can’t do the impossible. Unless Querini is her equal and he’s working with her, I don’t see how she can pull off something like this. Too many guards and too strong a castle. Even if she did get to him, would Nerio Acioli deign to slip over the walls by climbing down a rope?”
“He might if the choice is between freedom and captivity.”
Gil frowned. “If they catch her, I don’t expect they’ll be kind.”
“If we go to them and explain, maybe they’ll be lenient. We can offer to pay—enough for them to keep their hands off her when they catch her.”
“Maybe.” Gil was quiet for long moment. “She’s probably still there.”
“In the castle?”
“Yes. If it was difficult to get inside, she might stay and hide during the daylight hours, then try again tonight. Save herself the trouble of sneaking in again when they’re on the alert.”
Could it be that simple? “Then we should go there. If she sees you, she’ll know you’re safe, and the threats the Florentines made won’t matter anymore.”
Gil nodded. “We’d better find Sebastie. He’s still with the company. They’re more likely to let us in if he’s with us.”
We found Sebastie and Aban and shared what we’d heard as we returned to the Sea Maiden. The two of them had learned much the same thing in the taverna they’d visited: someone had tried to rescue Acioli. The person responsible—the Navarrese suspected a man; we suspected a woman—had failed but escaped.
When we reached the pier, Bertaldo greeted us. He explained his arrangements to stay with an associate at a villa in the country, and we agreed to meet him there after we investigated the castle. In the meantime, he lent us some of the horses he’d hired from a local stable.
“You know where to go?” I asked Sebastie.
He nodded. “I’ve been there before.”
We led the animals through the town to the south of the harbor, past the market and scores of buildings with white walls and red-tile roofs. The gelding I led tried to pull away to investigate every living thing we passed, man or animal, so I walked beside his head and gripped the lead rope tightly. Once outside the city gates, he proved a solid enough mount, and we pushed the horses into a trot and rode into the mountains southeast of Vostitza.
High walls of ashlar masonry surrounded the castle of Listrina. The walls looked too steep for anyone to climb, even someone of Eudocia’s skill. As we approached, guards were visible as they passed between the battlement’s merlons. The men in the taverna had made the castle sound like a fortress. They hadn’t exaggerated.
“I’ll go talk to them first.” Sebastie swung off his horse and approached on foot. The gate opened, revealing a dozen men. Doubtless more waited out of view.
Sebastie spoke with one of the men, who sent a messenger farther into the castle. The other waited. So did we. I dismounted to give the mischievous gelding some attention. Eventually, a third man arrived at the gate to speak with Sebastie. They nodded and gestured as they spoke, and then Sebastie walked back to us.
“I know the man charged with keeping guard on their hostage. Bertranet Mona. We’ve fought together before. But they won’t let anyone inside who Mona hasn’t met before, no matter how much I tell him you are trustworthy.”
“Go on without us,” Gil said. “Try to be as visible as possible. We can hope she’ll see you and try to contact you. Will they mind the rest of us riding around the castle?”
“I’ll tell him you’re curious to see the fortifications. I think it best that we say as little as possible about our real purpose.”
“Agreed.” Gil urged his horse away from the entrance. Unfortunately, it wasn’t really his horse. Eudocia might have recognized his gray stallion had the Turks not stolen it.
Aban and I followed. I kept watch for a way Eudocia might have gotten into the castle. The structure was bound to have a sally port somewhere, or maybe a rope would be hanging from one of the merlons. But nothing revealed an entrance. She’d probably gone in through the front gate, buried under supplies in a cart.
“So we expect her to see us,” Aban said. “And then she’ll know she can escape?” We’d been riding apart so there was a better chance she would see us, but my horse preferred company and had caught up to Aban’s while I focused on the wall.
“Yes. But she might be hidden away from any windows or passageways. Might be sleeping.”
“Then why don’t we tell the men in the castle what’s going on and have them help us search?”
“Because none of us is sure we can trust them.”
Aban frowned. “You used to be part of their company.”
“Yes, but that was a long time ago.”
“Sebastie is still part of the company.”
I nodded. “And he advised against giving them details.”
“What if the Florentines who took her see us?”
My grip on the horse’s reins slackened, but we were riding so slowly it didn’t matter. I hadn’t considered how our presence might add to Eudocia’s danger, but Aban was right. The risk to Eudocia could rise if the wrong people saw us. “We have to hope that they need her too much to hurt her or that she sees us before they do.”