Drool dropped the priest’s robe, pushed him to the ground, and sat on him.

“You can’t do this! The bishop will—”

The priest closed his mouth rather abruptly when monkey Jeff squatted over it.

“Well done, Jeff. Don’t let Drool suffocate him, and you, priest, you should wear knickers when you’re out. People will think you wanton.

“Come, Othello, we shall have conference.” I reached past the Moor and closed the door on my retinue.

“What are you saying about marriage? Who do you think I shall marry?”

“Why the fair Desdemona, of course. You love Desdemona, and you are confident the lady loves you, correct?”

“This I know better than anything I have ever known. But to take her from her father, without permission or blessing; I could not steal her away like a thief in the night.”

“First, you are not stealing her, she goes with you freely, of her own will, and second, be not so disparaging of thieves in the night. Were you not a pirate before coming to lead the forces of Venice?”

Othello, and his twenty ships of pirates, had been hired as mercenaries to help the Venetian Navy in their war against the Genoans, to take down Genoan ships in the Black Sea. When word came that the general of the navy, Dandalos, had been devastatingly defeated at the island of Curzola, losing a hundred ships, Othello was tasked with protecting the Venetian homeland against a Genoan attack, to avert a siege and surrender. The Moor had performed brilliantly, turning back the entire Genoan Navy, and allowing Venice to rebuild her navy, which was put under the Moor’s command.

“But I am a pirate no more.”

“Why is that, Othello? Why bollix up your profession for Venice?”

“I like that there is something to do beyond pirating. Service. To sink a ship, plunder a cargo, these are deeds in service of self, where the prizes are wealth and power, but to save a city, spare the children, these are larger deeds, which serve the soul.”

“And yet by saving the city you have attained greater wealth and power than ever.”

“There may be flaws in my philosophy, Pocket.”

“They’re all selfish, underhanded, greedy twats, with no consideration for anything but their own comfort anyway, aren’t they?”

“I think your misfortune has darkened your eye on Venetians. They are not all so bad.”

“I was talking about humanity in general; wouldn’t give a fetid firkin of fuck-all for the lot of them.”

“And yet you are here, with a priest, to what end?” The Moor dazzled a grin at me, as if he’d scored touché while fencing.

“There may be flaws in my philosophy, Othello,” said I. “And the bloody ghost of my wife entreated me to help you.”

“Ah, I have oft heard it said that there is always a bloody ghost.”