Caprice and Rondo - Dorothy Dunnett [158]
‘He has come here to teach for the winter,’ said Karaï Mirza, answering for the imam as they sat. ‘You may visit him in any of the towns where his classes are held. As for me, my stay will be shorter, and we should not be seen together in public: I have imposed myself on our good friend Dymitr simply to tell you that I have great hopes of obtaining your furs, but success will largely depend on which Tudun will be chosen to rule in the Khan’s name in Caffa. So tell me. What views have you heard expressed?’
Karaï Mirza was here to talk of the disputed appointment. His own possible candidature was not mentioned. None the less, in extracting the views of the household, his very competence threw into relief the weaknesses of the late Governor’s brother and son. He was not only experienced, after all. He was of the inner council of Mengli-Girey himself.
The Russians, Nicholas could see, were won over. If Karaï Mirza were to be accepted as governor, Dymitr and his friends might expect a spring present from Moscow which would allow them to compensate Anna and escape the penalty for her loss. It was a bonus, naturally, for Nicholas too.
The visitors did not stay long. Before he left, the imam Ibrahiim took Nicholas to one side. ‘I have a letter for you from Brother Lorenzo. Find me if you wish to reply. I have not read it.’
‘I shall like to find you, if I may, in any case,’ Nicholas said. ‘And hear news of my friends.’
The imam closed the folds of his hood over his beard. ‘I am busy,’ he said. ‘But of course, you may always attend one of my classes. Any Believer will tell you where to go.’
Nicholas caught Karaï Mirza’s small Tartar grin as he left. Damn Karaï Mirza. Then he tore open the letter and retracted it all, for inside was a message from Ochoa.
He took it to Anna. As once before, he hurled himself into his house and had to be halted: the Lady was entertaining. The guests included one of the more self-important officials of the Uffizio della Compagna of Genoa: having got rid of them all with extraordinary speed, the Gräfin shed her fine, high-bred calm and, hearing Nicholas out, hugged him at the end of his recital as closely as she might have hugged Julius. ‘You’ve heard from Ochoa! And he’s bringing the gold in the spring!’ And then, pulling away, ‘Show me! Wait, we must have wine — Brygidy, bring us more wine. Now, show me.’
Only when he spread the page before her did her face cloud. ‘It’s gibberish! I can’t read it! Cipher?’
‘Of course you can read it,’ said Nicholas. But although he was patient, she found the sheet of letters beyond her and instead turned, like a satisfied mother, to stroking the words of his transliteration. ‘All your gold, in the spring. He has deceived the Knights of St John? And once he can move, he will send you word where it is?’
‘In code,’ Nicholas said. ‘So you mustn’t fall out with me, whatever I ask, before then.’ Then he drew a breath, wishing he had put it some other way, or left: the whole story till morning, for her lips had parted and her eyes had become very bright.
Anna said, ‘But we shall never fall out. Our fortunes are bound together. Don’t you feel it?’
What he felt he did not want to put into words, although there were many words for it. Nicholas presented her with one of his generous grins, only a little breathless, and said, ‘Naturally. I’m joining your company, and am about to make you both exceedingly rich. I didn’t tell you that Moscow is about to compensate you for the loss of your furs? Well, possibly. And only if the Khan thinks I am helping him. And not at all if the Genoese get to hear that I met his secretary at the Russians’ tonight …’
The story took a little time in the telling, and allowed him to master himself, and presently to leave her in a civilised way, and take himself back to his room. Even then, he continued to think of her. The night was