In the Tudor Court Collection. Amanda McCabe

dog,’ the voice said. ‘Rachid requests your presence.’ Coarse laughter and then the sound of other men entering the cabin followed this command. ‘We shall have to carry the dog,’ the man said. ‘Rachid will have our heads if he dies.’

      Lorenzo let his body flop loosely as he was lifted bodily and carried out on to the deck. It was good to feel the fresh air on his face. He was very thirsty and it took all his strength of purpose to lie still as he was dumped unceremoniously on to the deck.

      He sensed that the men had moved away from him and cautiously opened one eye. To his amazement, they had all walked to the prow of the galley and were staring at something happening on shore. This was his chance!

      Lorenzo moved cautiously, crawling on all fours to the stern. He glanced over his shoulder but the Corsairs were all intent on watching whatever was happening on shore.

      He thought that they were getting ready for someone to come on board—possibly Rachid. The thought of coming face to face with his enemy lent Lorenzo wings. He stood up swiftly, putting a leg over the side and finding a foothold, his other leg following just as the alarm was roused. Someone had seen him and shouted a warning. It was now or never.

      He paused for a brief second before diving into the sea, but even as he hesitated he heard something just behind him and then a shot rang out. The ball embedded itself in his shoulder and he pitched face down into the sea.

      Chapter Eleven

      Kathryn was walking in the garden when Michael arrived later that day. She saw him talking with her father and Lord Mountfitchet and went quickly into the house to ask if there was any news.

      ‘Have you found him?’

      ‘No, Kathryn,’ Michael said. His eyes begged for pardon for he knew that his words must bring her grief. ‘Forgive me, I have no news at all. I made contact with one of Rachid’s men, but he claimed to have no knowledge of an attack on Lorenzo’s galley or of any captive.’

      ‘But it was six weeks ago,’ Kathryn said. ‘Surely there must be some word by now? If he was taken back to Algiers—’

      ‘My men and I visited the slave markets,’ Michael told her. ‘There was no news of him—they all denied having seen him.’

      ‘Someone must have seen him…if he is alive…’ Kathryn caught back a sob of grief. She was trying so hard to hold on to her hope to believe that he lived, but it was very hard.

      ‘Do not give up hope yet,’ Michael said. ‘I have sent an envoy to Rachid, and if there is to be an answer it will come here to his father—but I shall go now to Granada to speak with Lorenzo’s friend Ali Khayr. It is possible that he may have heard something—or that he may have contacts who could discover the truth of this.’

      ‘But we have only one man’s word that he was captured by Rachid’s galleys,’ Kathryn said. ‘Supposing it was another pirate or…’ She shook her head. ‘No, I shall not believe he is dead. I am sure that he lives.’

      ‘You always gave me hope when I had none,’ Charles Mountfitchet said, a gleam in his eyes. ‘And now I shall tell you that I believe he is alive, Kathryn. Lorenzo is not a green youth. He is a strong, resourceful man who has known suffering and survived, and I believe he will find a way to survive this time—no matter who his captors were.’

      ‘I do hope you are right, sir,’ she said, smothering a sob. Inside her head she was praying, begging for his life. ‘I pray that he is alive and that we shall have him back with us soon.’

      Sir John watched her anxiously, feeling her pain as if it were his own. He had experienced more pain in his chest of late and he knew that his time here was short. He must return home, for there were things he needed to do, yet he could not leave while Kathryn was so distressed.

      Lorenzo opened his eyes. The woman bending over him had soft hands and a kind voice. She had been tending him for a long time now, though he did not know how long he had lain here in his fever.

      ‘Are you awake at last?’ the woman asked in her native tongue and smiled at him. ‘Allah be praised. We all thought that you would die. You were as good as dead when my husband fished you out of the sea.’

      ‘Where am I?’ Lorenzo understood her, for it was a language he had learned of necessity long ago. He wrinkled his brow and tried to remember what had happened to him, but for the moment his mind was confused. He felt too weak to think, but he swallowed obediently when the woman put a cup to his lips.

      ‘My name is Salome,’ the woman told him. ‘My husband is a fisherman—we are but poor folk, sir. When my husband found you, you had been wounded and he thought you dead. He knew that someone was looking for you and he thought to claim a ransom for your body, but when he discovered that you were alive, he brought you to our home. Khalid would have given you to the Feared One had you been dead, but he would not give any living man to that monster.’

      ‘I am very grateful,’ Lorenzo whispered, his voice hoarse. ‘You shall be rewarded. I have friends who will pay for my safe return.’

      ‘I told my husband it would be so,’ Salome said and smiled encouragingly. ‘I have tended you for many days and nights, sir. Even when your wound began to heal your mind did not. You have been wandering in the past I think, for you spoke of being a child…of your father…’

      ‘My father.’ Lorenzo’s face creased with grief as the memories flooded into his mind and it all slotted into place. ‘He will be so distressed, and Kathryn…’ Kathryn would think him dead. He tried to sit up, but the pain struck him and he fell back against the cushions.

      ‘You are not yet ready to get up,’ Salome said. ‘Rest and wait, impatient one. When you are better we shall send a message to your friends and then you shall go to them. We are not greedy people, sir, but we are poor. A small sum for our trouble is all that we ask.’

      Lorenzo smiled at her as his eyelids fluttered. ‘I shall make you rich,’ he murmured and then he slept.

      ‘I must return home soon,’ Sir John said as he found his daughter walking in the garden. His heart ached as he saw her so pale, her eyes dark with unhappiness. She was even more distressed now than she had been when Dickon was taken from her. ‘I want you to come with me, daughter.’

      ‘I cannot leave Rome,’ Kathryn cried in sudden alarm. ‘I must stay here in case…he is found.’

      ‘Two months have passed now since Lorenzo was lost,’ her father told her, his expression grave. ‘I know you loved him, Kathryn, and if what Charles says is true—if he is Richard—then this is the second time you have lost the one you love most in the world. You will grieve for him, it is natural that you should—but I cannot stay here much longer. I must return home almost immediately. And I would have you safe at home with me.’

      ‘No, I must stay here. I must wait for my husband.’

      ‘I think that you should do as your father suggests.’

      Kathryn turned as she heard Charles’s voice. He had come into the garden and overheard them talking. ‘I must be here if Lorenzo returns.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Please do not make me leave him—please, I beg you. I must be here when he comes back…’

      ‘I shall remain in Rome,’ Charles told her. ‘When I have news I shall write to you. Lorenzo will know that you did not wish to leave. I shall tell him, Kathryn—but you would be safer at home with your father. Mary chose to stay in Sicily. She has kept poor William with her and has recently met a gentleman she likes and may marry. Had she been here, it might have been different—but I do not wish to leave you alone and I may have to travel elsewhere.’

      ‘Then give me another week,’ Kathryn begged. Her throat was tight with grief and she could hardly bear the pain. ‘If there is no news of him by then, I must do as my father says…’

      She turned away from them, controlling her tears with difficulty. Perhaps