Free DELUGE by Lisa T. Bergren Page A

smiled gratefully. “It was the archery, was it not? That made you give in? Wasn’t it my skill with bow and arrow that first made you claim your love?”
    He smiled ruefully and looked out to the sea. He still held my hand and I grew quiet, well aware that we both felt wounded, hurt, and it would take some time to come together fully. To bridge this chasm between us.
    If we could, truly, given that what I wanted and what he wanted were so opposed.
    It was as if a layer of caution nestled between us now. But it was better than being apart, I mused.
    Even if I couldn’t promise Luca forever, it certainly felt like I was his, and he was mine.
    Weren’t we?
    He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and we stared out to the endless waves, the distant coastline of what would someday be Croatia, and I hoped.
    I hoped.

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    ~GABRIELLA~
     
    Come morning, I stared at the roiling waters and fought to keep my breakfast in my belly. I hadn’t felt this heave-ish since my first trimester. Ya know, other than when Greco was creating all sorts of his own havoc.
    Lia joined me at the ship’s rail.
    “So it turns out,” I said, panting, “that pregnancy and sailing aren’t the ideal companions.”
    “Stare at the horizon,” she said. “Remember that whale watching trip in California? Keep those eyes on the horizon, not me.” I did as she said. “Good. Now, breathe, Gabi. Slowly. In and out.”
    Again, I followed instructions, and gradually, my stomach began to settle. The ship felt small, tall and tippy, like a double decker sailboat with two sails. For a time I’d considered going below decks and trying to ride it out, but Mom had gone before me and came up, shaking her head. “You don’t want to go down there.”
    So here I’d stood for hours, in the center, at the lowest point. It was maybe nine and we still had a couple of hours to go. If the winds remained favorable, we’d arrive in Venice by afternoon. Silently, I thanked God that we wouldn’t be spending another night on this ship. How on earth had Columbus crossed the Atlantic in the Santa Maria?
    Marcello came to join me after breaking his fast. I’d decided against food, in general, for the foreseeable future. “Are you feeling a bit better?” he asked hopefully, offering me his arm. I took it and leaned my head against his shoulder.
    “A bit,” I said.
    “Perhaps a morsel of bread—”
    “Nay, nay,” I declined quickly.
    He frowned in concern. “The baby—” he whispered.
    “The baby is fine,” I said, laying a hand on my belly. “Plenty of mothers are sick for many more months than I have been. It’s just the sea.”
    “Mayhap this was a foolish venture,” he chastised himself. “We’d best stayed safe at home.”
    “And sent my family alone? I think not.”
    “We could’ve managed,” Lia said defensively. “You simply did not want to miss it.”
    “Undoubtedly. Between these other mysterious Betarrinis and seeing medieval Venezia, there was no way you were leaving me behind.”
    “Nay, with what’s ahead, I think we’ll need every one of us to find our way through,” Marcello said. “There are treacherous waters before us, beyond the lagoon and its doge.”
    We stood there, the three of us for a time, before Luca came up. I breathed a sigh of relief as he stood beside Lia. Whatever had transpired last night had apparently helped them make up. Or at least they’d found their way to a truce, of sorts. I could still feel tension between them, but it was nothing like it had been.
    “What shall we expect?” I asked Marcello. “When we arrive?”
    “We’ll find our way to a palazzo of my cousins, and they shall make our presence known to the doge. I assume an invitation to court will arrive within a day or two, and we shall find a way to meet these mysterious Betarrini kin. Or at least discover their current whereabouts.”
    The captain arrived, a folding chair in his arms. He set up the rickety teak chair and