Read Online A King's Ransom by Sharon Kay Penman - Free Book Online
Authors: Sharon Kay Penman
Tags: Fiction, Historical
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harsh reality that awaited them on the morrow, when they left the city’s sheltered harbor for the open sea.
A FTER TAKING THE S EA- W OLF for a trial run, Georgios had concluded it was still not seaworthy, and so he took command of the Sea-Serpent , leaving some of his crew behind to recaulk the Sea-Wolf ’s hull. Most of Ragusa’s citizens turned out to bid Richard farewell, cheering as the pirate galley unfurled its sails and raised its anchors. Richard waved from the stern, laughing and promising to come back to hear Mass in their splendid new cathedral. But he felt a chill when a cloud suddenly blotted out the sun, casting shadows onto the deck of the Sea-Serpent , for he sensed that it would be a long time before he saw such friendly faces again.
They were heading for the Hungarian port city of Zadar, about 175 miles up the coast, and Georgios said complacently that it ought to be an easy voyage, for a galley could cover a hundred miles a day if the winds were right. The more superstitious among Richard’s men thought that he’d jinxed them by such arrogance, for once they left Ragusa behind, the wind became fitful and they were soon becalmed. They were forced to drop anchor and await favorable winds. Instead, they awoke the next morning to find themselves shrouded in thick, smothering fog. It was unsettling and eerie, for all sounds were oddly muffled and they felt like blind men, trapped in a wet white cloud. The fog did not disperse until the third day, and they felt a surge of relief as the Sea-Serpent got under way. Once they reached Zadar, they would not have to set foot on an accursed ship again, at least not until they had to cross the Narrow Sea that lay between England and France.
Richard had not decided if he ought to identify himself openly in Zadar and seek a safe conduct from King Bela. Their passage through Hungary would be much easier with Bela’s official blessing. If only he could be sure that Bela’s queen would not seek to poison her husband’s mind against him. Marguerite was not likely to think well of him. His brother Hal’s widow, she was also Philippe’s half sister and a full sister to the Lady Alys. He hadn’t thought of Alys in a great while. They’d been betrothed in childhood and she’d grown up at his father’s court. She was pretty enough, but as tame as a caged songbird, lacking spirit or fire, or any of the qualities that might have caught his interest. Conventional women had always bored him. He supposed his wife could be considered conventional, too, for the Spanish raised their women to be deferential and biddable. For certes, Berenguela had a strong sense of duty and she was almost too pious at times. But she would be loyal to him till her last mortal breath and there was steel in her spine. She had shown her courage time and time again during their voyage to the Holy Land and in the months that followed, and there was nothing he admired more than courage. He’d not have traded Berenguela for Alys even if that meant he’d have been welcomed at the Hungarian court like Bela’s long-lost brother.
Georgios guessed they were less than a hundred miles from Zadar now, raising their spirits. But the dawn sky the next morning was redder than blood and by midday clouds were gathering along the western horizon. The Sea-Serpent was soon wallowing in heavy swells and, sure that another storm was brewing, the pirate chieftain cut a roll of parchment into strips, had Richard’s chaplain ink in the names of saints, and shook them into his cap. The crew and passengers each chose one and promised to say a Mass for that saint when they safely reached shore. Georgios had exempted Richard from the drawing, saying with a glimmer of mischief that the king had already paid his dues, since one hundred thousand ducats could buy a lifetime of Masses. He then ceremoniously cast the saints’ names into the sea and they all breathed easier, at least for a while.
The storm that hit hours
A FTER TAKING THE S EA- W OLF for a trial run, Georgios had concluded it was still not seaworthy, and so he took command of the Sea-Serpent , leaving some of his crew behind to recaulk the Sea-Wolf ’s hull. Most of Ragusa’s citizens turned out to bid Richard farewell, cheering as the pirate galley unfurled its sails and raised its anchors. Richard waved from the stern, laughing and promising to come back to hear Mass in their splendid new cathedral. But he felt a chill when a cloud suddenly blotted out the sun, casting shadows onto the deck of the Sea-Serpent , for he sensed that it would be a long time before he saw such friendly faces again.
They were heading for the Hungarian port city of Zadar, about 175 miles up the coast, and Georgios said complacently that it ought to be an easy voyage, for a galley could cover a hundred miles a day if the winds were right. The more superstitious among Richard’s men thought that he’d jinxed them by such arrogance, for once they left Ragusa behind, the wind became fitful and they were soon becalmed. They were forced to drop anchor and await favorable winds. Instead, they awoke the next morning to find themselves shrouded in thick, smothering fog. It was unsettling and eerie, for all sounds were oddly muffled and they felt like blind men, trapped in a wet white cloud. The fog did not disperse until the third day, and they felt a surge of relief as the Sea-Serpent got under way. Once they reached Zadar, they would not have to set foot on an accursed ship again, at least not until they had to cross the Narrow Sea that lay between England and France.
Richard had not decided if he ought to identify himself openly in Zadar and seek a safe conduct from King Bela. Their passage through Hungary would be much easier with Bela’s official blessing. If only he could be sure that Bela’s queen would not seek to poison her husband’s mind against him. Marguerite was not likely to think well of him. His brother Hal’s widow, she was also Philippe’s half sister and a full sister to the Lady Alys. He hadn’t thought of Alys in a great while. They’d been betrothed in childhood and she’d grown up at his father’s court. She was pretty enough, but as tame as a caged songbird, lacking spirit or fire, or any of the qualities that might have caught his interest. Conventional women had always bored him. He supposed his wife could be considered conventional, too, for the Spanish raised their women to be deferential and biddable. For certes, Berenguela had a strong sense of duty and she was almost too pious at times. But she would be loyal to him till her last mortal breath and there was steel in her spine. She had shown her courage time and time again during their voyage to the Holy Land and in the months that followed, and there was nothing he admired more than courage. He’d not have traded Berenguela for Alys even if that meant he’d have been welcomed at the Hungarian court like Bela’s long-lost brother.
Georgios guessed they were less than a hundred miles from Zadar now, raising their spirits. But the dawn sky the next morning was redder than blood and by midday clouds were gathering along the western horizon. The Sea-Serpent was soon wallowing in heavy swells and, sure that another storm was brewing, the pirate chieftain cut a roll of parchment into strips, had Richard’s chaplain ink in the names of saints, and shook them into his cap. The crew and passengers each chose one and promised to say a Mass for that saint when they safely reached shore. Georgios had exempted Richard from the drawing, saying with a glimmer of mischief that the king had already paid his dues, since one hundred thousand ducats could buy a lifetime of Masses. He then ceremoniously cast the saints’ names into the sea and they all breathed easier, at least for a while.
The storm that hit hours
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