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It had taken them three days and a good part of the afternoon to reach the swampy bog that the castle was built on. The roads were a morass that sucked at the horses' hooves, the bridges pockmarked with puddles. Even the castle was ringed by a moat that seemed superfluous with all the miniature lakes spotting the ground around it.

"Ah, Forli. Catarina Sforza's going to flash people from the top of that castle wall," Shaun mused to himself almost wistfully.

"I know," Amir said at the same time Lex said, "She's what? Who?"

"Firecrotch, Lex. Firecrotch," was all the Brit said, trotting after Amir as the Coal Tit threaded their way toward the docks that could just be seen through the haze of salt spray and mist that hung around the area. Shaking his head, the Sparrow trotted after them, earning himself a few swears from passersby when he had to cross the bridge.

When his mare's hooves touched the solid ground of the docks, he dismounted and let her move over to where his companions' mounts had moved to get herself something to eat from the pile of hay there. Lex looked up at Shaun. The Brit was cracking his back and groaning as Amir spoke with the captain of the ship being loaded in the harbor. The Englishman looked at his fellow time traveler and reached over, putting a hand on his back.

"You worried about Jameel, mate?"

"Yeah." Lex shifted a little away from his hand and walked after Amir up the plank onto the deck. Frowning, Shaun went up after him. The historian set to stumbling as he was shoved out of everyone's way, finally caught by the waiting arms of a rather good-looking fellow who winked at him in passing before attending to his duties with the rigging. Amir was already up in the crow's nest, squealing and spinning around and around on the mast like a carosel.

Lex leaned his arms against the rail of the ship, staring out into the dull, gray waters as the ship finally pushed off into the wind.

"It'll probably be five, eight hours, there abouts before we're in Venice." He glanced over at the man trying to make conversation with him and nodded, settling his chin on his arms. Five to eight hours, huh? Lex shifted himself.

"That's time enough."

"Time enough to plan, yeah."

"And worry."

"And train a novice like you," Amir called down from his perch above their heads. The two men looked at him with matching looks of astonishment.

"Oh, hardee har har," came from Shaun, the one to recover the quickest. "Now where's the loo? I need to take a horrendous s**t." Time enough for that, too, Lex thought, a smile tugging at one of the corners of his lips as he watched the man go.



The air was cool when Shaun stepped out onto the deck that evening. The moon shone down full and bright, casting the masts and another long shadow across his face. Lifting his eyes, he found the one he sought up above him. The English Assassin was panting by the time he reached the spot just below where the Sparrow sat. He risked a glance down and ended up clutching tightly to the rigging, his bowels threatening to spill down, down, down, down those many feet to the wood below.

A hand appeared in his line of sight. Taking it, he allowed himself to be pulled up onto the seat Lex had made of the yard arm. Pushing up his glasses, Shaun wrapped an arm around the part of the mast that stuck up on his right side, rising to another arm above them. Well, I'm up here. Now what the hell do I do?

"Y'know, there's only one word of Arabic I've bothered to keep in my head." Lex glanced over at him, the taller man watching the stars a moment longer before meeting his eyes. "Habibi." Shaun's face darkened. "I learned it from a pop song."

"You even know what it means?"

"Of course, I do! I am able to use a search engine, y'know! What about you, did Jameel ever call you that?"

"He's called me it a lot." Lex studied the rope beneath his hands where it lay coiled around the arm. "What about you? Who do you want to call your habib?"

"I think maybe your brother," Shaun said after so long a pause Lex had wondered if he'd fallen asleep.

"Amir?"

"No! I'm not *****! The big brother!"

"Badr? You and Badr?"

"I can fantasize, can't I?"

"You have a fetish for scarred, blind Bedouin?"

"No, not a fetish, you arse. Can't I just think he's hot?"

"You're asking the wrong person, Shauny-kins."

"Shauny-kins?"

"Would you prefer Shauninator?"

"I'd prefer Sir Shaun Hastings the Fabulous, but I doubt Her Majesty will ever make a knight of me after the whole Wikileaks fiasco."

"You worked with Wikileaks."

"Don't sound like I said I crap Swiss sharp, kiddo. I was a rebel in my youth."

"You can't have a youth yet," Lex muttered. "You're not old enough." The man raised a brow.

"I'm nearly in my thirties and you say I'm not old enough. Hmph. Americans." The two fell silent for a time. How long, neither could say.

Then came, "Hey, Shaun. I just realized something."

"Hmm? Whazzat?"

"We're on a boat."

All the sailors were roused from their slumber as the off-key duet came down upon them from above, a chorus of Lonely Island's "I'm on a Boat."