The defences were newly rebuilt; the city had just been occupied by its conquerors the Venetians, who were spreading their unique form of government – a republic – through all the neighbouring cities, fuelled by gold, driven by trade. Slowly the little sally-port door opened and a guard in the bright livery of the victors presented arms and waited for the travellers to request admission.Freize, launched himself into a mouthful of lies with ill-concealed relish. ‘My lord,’ he said, gesturing to Luca, ‘a young and wealthy nobleman from the west of Italy. His brother: a priest.’ He pointed to Brother Peter who was indeed a priest, but was serving as Luca’s clerk and had never met him before they were partnered on this series of missions. ‘His sister is the fair young lady.’ Freize gestured to the beautiful girl who was Lady Isolde of Lucretili, no relation at all to the handsome young man but travelling with him for safety. ‘And her companion the dark young lady is riding with her.’ Freize was nearest to the truth with this, for Ishraq had been Isolde’s friend and companion from childhood – now they were exiled together from their home, looking for a way to return.
