Don Arsago's words were prophetic. The gray-pink mist hadn`t thinned under the bright sunlight yet when the news came from the pier, from the Piazzetta. Accompanied by a group of the guards, Guido went to the square and confirmed that the assassins were found at last. Two bodies were dumped between the columns on the Piazzetta and found by the fishermen at the crack of dawn. That was the place usually used for urban punishment. Of course, I knew immediately who did this. Scarpa was faster than all the city guards put together. One of the dead was identified by the townspeople as a well-known assassin, the other was a merchant from the Falieri family, a distant relative of the Senator.

The city was buzzing again. The rumours of the attack on the Count Arsago were still fresh in everyone's memory. It was said that the third robber had surrendered himself: he had come to the Doge's Palace and begged to be shut up in Piombi's most horrible cell, just to stay away from the sea.

"There will be a trial," don Arsago said gravely, summoning me into his room. “And you should be there, too. My wife will take you to the court.”

If he hadn`t nodded toward the Countess, I wouldn`t have even noticed she was there too. Her frail puny figure was completely lost in the shadow of her husband. Wearing a black dress with silver trim and a high ruffled collar, she looked like a bat blinking helplessly in the sun.

"But why?" I said timidly.

Donna Arsago gave me her weak pale smile.

"My dear girl, you were the first to suffer from the assassins. Along with donna Assunta, of course. You're like a daughter to us, so my husband will protect your interests as well…”

Most likely, he wants to show me to the senators, as the main trump card in the fight for the Doge's cap, I thought. I did not want to emphasize my belonging to the Arsago family, but I had to obey. The Count was not willing to listen to any objections. Leaving me in the care of his wife, he immediately left the house. I dressed up obediently, but at last moment I pulled out Beatrice Granacci's letter and put it in my bodice. I could feel the paper crunch every time I made a sudden movement. My secret weapon against all the power of the Count. I wonder what would happen if I presented it in court?!

Two guards accompanied us in the gondola. For safety, as donna Arsago explained. I pretended to believe her. People on the shore greeted us with cheers and flowers. In just one morning Lorenzo Arsago became a national hero: a man avenged by the sea itself! The Venettians had always treated the sea with great reverence, and this was to the advantage of the Count…

Through the arch of the Porta Carta we passed into the inner court of the Doge's Palace, where all the councils, the Collegium and the court met. I looked around with some trepidation. I'd never been here before. The Doge's Palace was actually a symbol of Venettian power. In the center of the spacious courtyard, surrounded by walls and arcades on its four sides, there was a big bronze well. Every day it was filled with the purest mountain water, which was valued more than wine. The thick bronze walls were covered with images of the sea monsters. Among crooked paws, fins and scales I suddenly noticed a sight of familiar grin. "You owe me, witch," I heard in my head. A thick tail wagged, disappearing into the greenish bronze depths. I looked aside – and met the gaze of the stone griffin guarding the entrance to the Palace. The magical creature looked as if it was ready to spring, its sharp beak aimed straight at my heart, its long tail twitching in exasperation. Griffins never liked sea witches, and there was a dozen more of them waiting for me in the spacious hall and dark corridors of the palace. I closed my eyes, hoping that the popular legends of the statues coming to life were just silly tales.

We passed the ominous statue and got in. Donna Arsago and I crossed the cool hall with carefully polished slippery marble floors. Our footsteps echoed as we walked through the gloomy, heavy vaults of the long corridors. Finally, the wooden doors with the carved sculpture of the goddess of Justice were opened in front of us, and we canme into the courtroom.

As I`d already said, the proceedings were conducted in Venetta without any delay. We were just in time for the meeting. The hall was almost full. At the far end, on a dais covered with red velvet, sat the judges. In front of them there were seats for the senators. Other important guests in scarlet silk togas over their clothes were seated in chairs. At one side I could see a special high chair for the Doge, who was to be present at the hearing of particularly important cases. The defendant was given a place in the center of the empty area, where everyone could see him clearly. Standing there under the glare of angry, judgmental stares must be really hard.

There were benches for spectators all the way up to the wall. The noblewomen of the town were not supposed to mingle with the crowd, so we were given seats in a side gallery, separated from the other public by a high wooden barrier. Donna Arsago sat down and motioned me to an empty seat. Here, in the ladies ' section, wide skirts rustled, and the scent of floral essences and scented oils wafted everywhere. I felt a little dizzy. People kept glancing at us, and their excited whispers followed us right from the aisle.

At last don Soranzo appeared. Slowly, deliberately, he strode to his massive "throne" under the canopy, hiding his weakness behind his majestic manner. The hearing began. The audience stirred as the accused was led in. He looked frayed and ill, though his figure, if you looked closely, was tall and sturdy. His rough face, overgrown with an unkempt beard, was set in sullen indifference. He looked like one of those ex-soldiers who couldn`t get back to the dull everyday routine after the war and roamed around the city instead, selling his sword to anyone who would pay. Such people were called "condottieri".

Don Arsago, rising sedately, made a passionate speech of accusation, at which the faces of the senators and judges showed anger and a sort of a fierce satisfaction. Don Arsago knew how to influence the public. I would have been moved by his eloquence too, had it not been for the letter which I kept with me.

“...What is the punishment for a man who dared to violate the life of a citizen of the Republic?" the Count asked.

Yes, what is it? I thought, involuntarily pressing my hand to my chest. The hidden letter seemed to burn my skin.

The Count's eyes were fixed on me at that moment, shining like polished agates. We looked at each other in silence for a while. Then don Arsago deftly curtailed the pathetic speech and returned to his seat, having managed to whisper something to one of the guards on the way. I recognized Guido. He moved quietly to the other side of the room, where Ricardo was sitting behind the senators, smiling nonchalantly.

He knows I found the letter! a thought stroke me. What is he going to do? Will he hurt Ricardo?

Meanwhile, the Count gave me another hard look and said something to an elderly senator with a pointed beard. He was as unruffled as if he no longer cared.

The judges moved on to the interrogation. The eldest of them began to ask the accused one question after another with a haughtily cold face. At a separate table, the clerk scratched hastily with his pen, barely managing to write down the answers. The accused bravo, standing motionless in the center of the room, answered mechanically, without thinking, without even raising his head. I thought he realized what our state mechanism was like, capable of chewing and spitting out anyone without even wincing. There was really nothing to hope for.

“We were to waylay that signor when he returned from The Golden Palace," the accused nodded at the Count. "I didn't know who he was. Bartoli hired me to do it.”

Signor Bartoli's body was one of those found on the Piazzetta this morning. A distant relative of don Falieri. No wonder the senator started at the mention of the name, and his bright bulging eyes flashed like an owl's.

“I wish to inform the distinguished Assembly that I have long had no dealings with signor Bartoli, though I am related to him,” he interposed."I didn't even know he was in Venetta!”

"Yeah, sure," someone said behind me. The judge banged his gavel on the table, calling for silence. The interrogation continued.

“Do you often take such orders?”

"A trade as good as any," the mercenary shrugged.

“You were the one assigned to kill signorita Julia Granacci a week ago?"

The accused looked up. For the first time during the hearing a nervous shiver ran down his spine.

“I don't know anything about the other murders! We were hired to deal with that noble signor, I admit that. But that's all I know!”

“Did you try to poison don Arsago at the feast on the Exile Day?"

"No! I don't know anything about poisons!” there was panic in the assassin's voice. “I am just a common man! We were hired to…”

“That`s clear. Are you familiar with signor Luigi Manriolo from Ariminum?

“I don't know him.”

“Who attacked your comrades last night?"

“The devil himself, I`m afraid.”

His last phrase, uttered in a frightened whisper, caused considerable excitement in the hall.

“Really?” the judge asked mockingly. “Did the devil himself come out of the sea to punish you?"

From where I sat I could not see the accused's face, but I saw that his fingers clenched into fists nervously, making his knuckles white. There was an aura of sickening fear around him.

"So it was," the mercenary muttered. “Signor`s guards were really good, so . we retreated and disappeared into the alley. Bartoli had arranged with the landlord that the little door in the gate should be left open…”

"By the way, the landlord is one of Falieri's debtors," the same voice whispered maliciously behind me. "Too many coincidences, don`t you think?”

"...there we took a boat and went out into the lagoon, " continued the unfortunate assassin. "It was foggy. We're lost. None of us in our right mind would have gone to that damned island! No wonder it is called the Island of the Seven Dead! A lot of the fishermen`s souls had found their last resting place there... But we were chased, and it was too late to look for another place to hide. So we made a fire in the gap between the hills, relying on the intercession of the saints.”

"They didn't help you much," the judge said.

"In the morning a fisherman came to the fire – an old man, his rags were all tarred through. He said he had landed behind the headland. However, when Bartoli went to check it, there wasn`t a boat!”

“And why did he need to check it?”

"We hoped the fishing skiff would be stronger than our tub," the mercenary said guilelessly. "Besides, there must have been nets. We could pretend to be fishermen and slip away to Dito. But there was no boat. That's what Bartoli said when he came back. He thought that the seahorse must have brought that man there. And the fisherman suddenly became furious: "Compare me, me, to a stupid valluco?!" His face stretched and there were long teeth in his mouth. Right before our eyes, the ugly old man disappeared, and instead of him, a monster jumped out of the darkness. With a single blow of its tail it scattered the fire. I was knocked down, someone was screaming nearby... the last thing I remember is the devil eating Bartoli's guts, and then I must have passed out. I woke up on the square. How we got there I don't know. Both my comrades were dead.”

After this confession, there was a ringing silence in the hall. I caught a few glances – wary, respectful. "Try to cross don Arsago`s way when the sea itself conjures him!” someone whispered, not really trying to lower his voice. However, many didn`t believe him.

"Bullshit!" people were whispering. "'The fellow's been on the cursed island all night, of course he's lost his mind!”

I alone knew how little fiction there was in the criminal's story. I may not have personally killed the bravi on the island, but I was their judge and executioner, too. It was enough to read the damn pesquator`s thoughts... Suddenly I felt out of breath and desperately wanted to get some fresh air.

People behind continued to whisper.

“Do you think he'll be convicted?"

“What do you think?" Pelagatti, the chief justice, can't be fooled by these tales! He could even cut a bale of wool off a cat!”

While the lawyers conferred, the spectators discussed what they had heard. The hum in the hall grew louder. There was no sympathy for the murderers. If the sea sometimes took the lives of innocents, why should it not punish three villains?”

Finally, the gavel struck the judge's desk three more times for silence.

"The accused, Giovanni basso, has confessed to the assassination of the senator," the judge said. His voice echoed through the vaults of the hall, reaching the farthest corners. "However, given the deplorable state of his mind, we have decided that he does not deserve to die. He will be taken to the asylum on the island of San Clemente.”

The judge's last words were drowned in a shout that lashed me like a whip. The accused stood up from his seat and two guards could barely hold him.

"An island?" he yelled, wrenching himself from their grasp. "An island?! No! Better hang me, please!”

The wild cry turned into a laugh of terror. The judge shrugged impassively. The senators had already lost interest in the criminal, rising from their seats and gathering in small groups. People in the back rows began to make their way to the exit.

Actually, staying away from water can`t save him, I thought. Now Scarpa will find him everywhere. Those-who-live-under-the-waves may not always appear in the flesh, but they can easily penetrate your consciousness, filling it with nightmares.

As if he heard my thought, the condemned man suddenly turned straight to me and choked on a scream. "Damned witch!" – that was written on his face. I looked away hastily. The only thing that kept me here was the need to talk to Ricardo, but in such a crowd there was no need even to think about it. We were separated by a heaving human sea. My "brother" waved to me from a distance and turned away, talking to a senator. Donna Arsago touched my elbow for the second time.

"Come, my dear. There's going to be a crush. Most people have no idea of propriety!”

I looked around, but the row of chairs behind us was already empty. Closer to the exit I could see a few people in cloaks with hoods thrown over. I never knew who the signors were, but they didn't seem to support Falieri. Most of the spectators, having satisfied their curiosity, went about their business, although the criminal was still there: he continued to rage and struggle. The guards managed to drag him to the door as he turned for the last time, pointing a finger at either the Doge or don Arsago.

"The Republic will fall because of you!" Do you hear?! Within a day, the Golden Griffin will be defeated and your homes will be flooded with salt water! Mark my words, Soranzo! You have no more than a day to rule!”

His gruff voice rose suddenly, with a note of prophecy in it. Two soldiers in shining cuirasses hurried to the aid of the judges. Together, they finally managed to push the assassin into the corridor leading to the prison cells. The senators buzzed like a beehive, and from below we heard occasional exclamations of indignation. Old don Soranzo, who had just risen to his feet, stood under the canopy, staring fixedly before him. His face looked ash-gray against the crimson brocade. He froze – and then suddenly collapsed back into his chair, his head hanging down like a broken doll.