In the Tudor Court Collection. Amanda McCabe
clear night and the news had come earlier that day. Their information had proved true. The enemy was at Lepanto, and it was said that they were in some difficulty. There were stories of plague aboard their ships and large numbers of dead, which had left them short of slaves at the oars. If this too was true, it would give the League the advantage they needed against the superior numbers of the Turks.
Lorenzo was eager for the battle to begin. Like all those who lived and sailed under the banner of Venice, he was angry at the way the enemy had attacked and pillaged Cyprus, but more than this was his desire to have an end to this conflict. Only then would he be free to return to Kathryn.
Kathryn awoke, got up and went over to look out of the window of her bedchamber. It was a beautiful sunny day, the sky a perfect cloudless blue. She had promised to spend it with her friends, and she knew it would be a pleasant day. The only cloud on her horizon was the lack of news from Lorenzo.
He had warned her not expect any messages from him. ‘We shall be moving constantly,’ he had told her, ‘and there will be no way of sending you letters, my love—but you will know that you are always in my heart.’
Kathryn wondered if he was thinking of her now. She had dreamed of him, but the dream had been the old one, where she was swept away from him by an unstoppable tide of water, and she did not want to remember it.
If only she knew what he was doing, and if he was safe! If anything should happen to him now…but she would not let herself dwell on such things. Lorenzo had promised to come back to her and she would hold fast to that thought.
Lorenzo was in command of his own fleet. It was his condition for joining the League and it gave him the freedom to manoeuvre as he would. He had decided to stay close to Don John’s personal ships, for he believed the overall commander to be not only a man of sense, but also a brilliant strategist.
On most of the galleys the men were chained to their oars, lashed by the bosun’s whip to make them work. Lorenzo’s men were free to choose. They had been trained to obey his orders to the letter, and though they could be punished for disobedience, they were more likely to be rewarded for bravery. Any prizes they took would be sold and divided amongst them.
A mass had been held throughout the fleet and everyone accepted that the battle was near. The Turkish fleet had been sighted and the nearest guess they had was that there were some three hundred vessels, the majority of them fighting galleys.
‘They are spread out across the gulf,’ Lorenzo said to Michael just before he returned to his own galley that morning. ‘It will be a hard-won fight, my friend.’
‘But we shall prevail!’
‘If we have faith in our own ability.’
‘Listen to that!’ Michael said as the sound of strange music floated across the sea from the enemy ships.
By contrast, the combined fleet of the League was silent. The atmosphere was intense, dedicated, as if every man was prepared to die for the cause.
‘Go to your men,’ Lorenzo said his expression set. ‘This day shall be remembered for all time.’
They were closing on the enemy now. The decks of the Turkish galleys were packed with men in rich clothes and wearing jewels; they were Janissaries and served the Sultan. Amongst them crouched the archers, their deadly weapons poised and ready to inflict the maximum harm.
The League was heavily outnumbered and no one knew better than Lorenzo what fierce fighters the Turks were. Amongst them, he did not doubt, were the ships of his enemy Rachid.
On board the Turkish ships the Janissaries were shouting and screaming, crashing cymbals and firing as the two fleets converged, hoping to confuse and scatter the League’s ships. But the League held firm, waiting for the signal from their commander, which came in the end along with a change in the wind.
Suddenly the odds had altered. Now they were in favour of the League. It seemed that God was with them.
Kathryn could not rest. She had heard no news of Lorenzo for weeks and the waiting was at times unbearable. She had always known that it might be months before he returned to her, but she had hoped that there might be some news before this.
‘It is the uncertainty I find so distressing,’ Kathryn said to Elizabeta as they sat together at their sewing. ‘Every day I expect that we may hear something, but there has been no word.’
Elizabeta nodded, stretching to ease her back. She was in the early stages of childbearing, though as yet it was hardly noticeable.
‘My husband has contributed to the League’s funds, as all men of conscience must,’ she said. ‘But I must tell you, Kathryn, that I am relieved he takes no part in this war. I know it must be very worrying for you.’
‘I try not to be anxious,’ Kathryn told her. ‘Lorenzo promised that he would return to me and I must believe that.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Elizabeta said and smiled. She showed Kathryn the exquisite embroidery she was doing for her baby’s shawl. ‘I am sure he will return to you in time. After all, this is not the first time your husband has fought his enemies.’
‘No, that is true.’ Kathryn laid her sewing aside as she heard voices in the hall and then Veronique came into the salon with their visitor. ‘Paolo,’ she said and stood up to greet him. ‘It is good to see you.’
‘I knew you would be anxious for news,’ he said. ‘I came as soon as I heard—it seems that the League has won a great victory over the Turks.’
‘A victory!’ Kathryn could not keep the delight from her voice, her eyes lighting up from inside. ‘I am so very pleased. But what else have you heard?’
‘There have been casualties on both sides,’ Paolo said carefully. He had heard that they were heavy, but did not wish to frighten her. ‘They say that Don John’s strategy was brilliant, but there was hard fighting. It was not won easily, surging this way and that, but the Turkish commander was killed and that helped to carry the day. Also, it is said that, on board the Turkish ships, the galley slaves broke free of their chains and joined in the fighting against their cruel masters.’
‘You have no other news…for me?’ She looked at him eagerly.
‘I cannot tell you that Lorenzo is safe, Kathryn, for I do not know. But some of our ships may return soon and then we may learn more.’
‘Yes, I understand,’ Kathryn said. She was on fire with impatience to discover more, but knew she must control her feelings. ‘It was good of you to come and tell me.’
‘I knew you would be anxious,’ he said. ‘As soon as there is more news I shall tell you.’
Kathryn thanked him. She invited him to stay and take some wine with them, but he said that he had other calls to make.
‘Well,’ Elizabeta said after he had gone. ‘Paolo brought good news, Kathryn. If the Turks are defeated, it means that the war is over, and that means Lorenzo should soon be on his way home to you.’
‘Yes.’ Kathryn smiled, her heart racing with excitement. ‘I do hope so, Elizabeta. I cannot wait to have him home again.’
The battle against the Turks was won for the moment. Lorenzo did not doubt that they would grow strong again in time, but it had been a fierce fight and for the moment the enemy could do nothing but slink away to lick its wounds, which meant that these seas would be that much safer.
Lorenzo had lost three of his galleys in the battle of Lepanto. Crews from other ships had rescued some of the men, though inevitably some had been lost. At least his crew had chosen to fight of their own free will, which was not the case for all. However, they had captured several rich prizes, and that meant the men would be well rewarded for their work.
‘What will you do next?’ Michael asked as he came on board Lorenzo’s personal galley. ‘Are you returning to Rome at once?’
‘Those