Caprice and Rondo - Dorothy Dunnett [176]
‘You are not going. You are not going. Nicholas, I forbid you to go. I know Ochoa once was a friend. I know how you feel about Africa, and all who remind you of it. But he has had his life, and made little of it, and you are at the threshold of yours. Nicholas, leave it to the Patriarch. He will do what he can.’
‘He doesn’t seem over-confident,’ Nicholas said. ‘He has sent Brother Orazio for me.’
‘Then he is a fool, or he doesn’t realise the risks you would run.’ Her frowning eyes, scanning his face, opened suddenly. ‘Or perhaps the Patriarch knows of the gold?’
Despite himself, Nicholas smiled. ‘Father Ludovico, plotting to appropriate funds for the Church? No. I think your first guess was right. He doesn’t know they suspect me of anything. He simply knows that Ochoa has served me, and thinks I should help him in trouble. I think so, too.’
The frowning eyes returned to his face. ‘They may imprison you, also. They may find out who you are.’
‘Then I shall have to explain myself,’ he said. ‘And you mustn’t try to extract me. This doesn’t involve you or the Patriarch. I shall swear that I deceived you both, too.’ He paused. ‘Anna, I know you don’t want me to go. But you really can’t stop me.’
They looked at one another. Her eyes softened. She said, ‘Then I shan’t try. He is part of your past. You must love him.’
‘With that stupid, toothless face and those hats? I don’t care if he hangs from the ribbons,’ Nicholas said. ‘But I’d rather he didn’t buy a reprieve by telling them all about me and our gold.’
He smiled at her again. He felt sick.
On the way to Soldaia he hardly spoke, although Brother Orazio rode anxiously at his side, glancing at him now and then. When they arrived at the gates, it did not greatly astonish Nicholas to find that all the other travellers from Caffa were received through the portals before him, or that Brother Orazio was invited to pass through on his own. The monk, unexpectedly stubborn, stood objecting in the vernacular of Ferrara, until Nicholas, with a small, fierce signal, made him desist.
Once he was alone, there came a time when Nicholas objected as well, if in a somewhat token way, since he had no weapons, and was one man against a special detachment from the Genoese garrison. Presently the soldiers, becoming tired of the argument, simply wrestled him to the ground and kicked him until his voice stopped.
IN THE MONASTERY of Montello, a nobleman died. Because he had lived there for a long time, the funeral mass was carried out in every particular as he had wanted, even to the inclusion of that type of impassioned liturgy which the Abbot personally despised. No relatives were present, or indeed invited; but afterwards the vicomte’s possessions were gathered and laid in four chests by Brother Huon, whose silent grief, in defiance of the Divine Purpose, drew a rebuke from the Abbot. Brother Huon did penance, and in due course, the chests were sent off.
FURTHER WEST, Gelis van Borselen spent the early months of the year commuting between Ghent and the west bank of the Rhine, with frequent visits to Bruges. For a space, her private concerns became almost manageable, as most of her thoughts and all her skills were required by the Bank: to commend its resources and its fighting force to Duke Charles through the Duchess, while steering a far-sighted course over loans, as distinct from the flamboyantly short-sighted course that, sooner or later, was going to ruin Tommaso Portinari.
No one could deny that the money was needed. The town of Neuss was still holding out, while the evil combination of the Swiss Federation and its allies was continually engaging Burgundian forces elsewhere, to irritating cries of Berne and St Vincent! Worse than that, the largest German army for centuries was marching through rain, wind, snow and hail down the right bank of the Rhine towards Linz, after which it proposed to enforce an entry of the True Defender into the capital of the diocese, Cologne.
Also, the Duke of Burgundy had promised to supply six thousand men