Caprice and Rondo - Dorothy Dunnett [146]
‘Ochoa!’ Nicholas said. He suffocated, and started again. ‘Ochoa de Marchena was here?’
Brother Lorenzo’s gaze was quite placid. ‘The shipmaster who was lost with your gold? Yes. He has escaped from the Knights of St John. He wishes to meet you. He can tell you where your gold is.’
He waited, with tolerance, until Nicholas had ceased to wheeze. ‘The reward of virtue,’ observed Brother Lorenzo. ‘I brought some balm from the Mount. Give it, from me, to the friends whom I met there. And make wise use of your gold, when you find it.’
Chapter 20
FOR NICHOLAS de Fleury, the journey home passed like a dream: he hardly remembered parting with the Circassian. In Caffa, paying off the last of his escort, he burst into Anna’s house and discovered that he had overtaken his own harbinger and that Brygidy, alarmed, was telling him that the Genoese Oberto Squarciafico was here, and M. de Fleury must revert, quickly, to his role as Mameluke servant.
He couldn’t pretend, now, that he hadn’t arrived, so he sent a servant, humbly, to tell his mistress that her servant Nicomack ibn Abdallah had returned from Qirq-yer. He still looked the part, but after weeks of autonomy, his manner required some adjusting.
He saw Squarciafico briefly, as the fiscal agent took his leave, and Anna called her steward for an exchange of courtesies. Nicholas answered questions politely: he had been amazed by the nature of the citadel; he had found the Khan gracious but prone to waste time on hunting and other pleasures, in which he had been compelled to take part; he had, in the end, been permitted to outline the Contessa’s hopes and plans, but it was by no means clear whether the Khan felt able to help him — he had been told simply to wait.
All the time he was speaking, half his gaze was on Anna’s brilliant face; on the violet eyes which had lit when she saw him but veiled when he spoke, and she had to believe that her business and her steward’s appeal had not prospered. The Genoese, taking his leave, had been consoling, and she had accepted his sympathy prettily. Then, leaving, he remembered Nicholas and said, ‘Come and see me tomorrow. The consul will have some questions about Mengli-Girey’
Nicholas was sure that he would. Reports from Caffa reached the citadel of Qirq-yer in a stream: compared with the lack-lustre Genoese, the Khan’s spies were infinitely superior. All the time he had stayed in the citadel, Nicholas had been assured, if indirectly, of the safety of Anna, and the public movements, at least, of the Patriarch. He would have to go to Father Ludovico immediately and tell all that he had learned. He would have no trouble speaking tomorrow to the Bank and the consul, and was fully prepared for the tale he must tell Sinbaldo the agent. To all of them, the story would be the same. There was some hope for the Contessa’s trade, but the Khan would not commit himself until the new Tudun was in place to advise. And neither Nicomack ibn Abdallah nor Nicholas de Fleury knew (or cared) who the new Tudun would be.
But before that, he had the real news to give Anna.
She was so beautiful. He had forgotten the glow behind the self-possession, the glorious eyes, the smile, the hair like a houri’s, clinging unbound to her neck and her fine, narrow gown. He said, ‘Are you glad to see me?’
He had come into her parlour just as he was, without even supervising the six baskets now being unstrapped outside. He had the bag of coins in his hat.
Anna said, ‘I don’t think so. What have you been riding? A camel?’
‘It’s a healthy smell,’ Nicholas said. ‘Was he bothering you? Has anyone been bothering you?’
‘Apart from creditors?’ she said whimsically. ‘I wish I could say so, but it has been remarkably dull. No advance has been made with the Russians. The Genoese tend to call whenever they hear I’ve had letters, and they ask me how Julius is doing — to which the answer is well, Nicholas;