The waters of the Venetian lagoon were tranquil as glass when *The Obsidian Sovereign* slipped past the Lido and dropped anchor once again off the silent island of San Giorgio Maggiore. The autumn afternoon sun bathed the Campanile of San Marco and the gothic domes of the Basilica in rich, honeyed gold, casting long purple shadows across the tranquil canals. Inside the vaulted refectory salon of the Giudecca monastery safehouse,…
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