Caprice and Rondo - Dorothy Dunnett [69]
‘Such as good business opportunities, of course?’ said Nicholas thoughtfully. ‘Yet it does no harm, I notice, to be Genoese. Our friend Prosper de Camulio seems well thought of in Rome.’
‘That is true. But he has never been sent to the Levant. The wealth of the Levant is for others to exploit. I have here a … consideration.’
‘It looks like money,’ said Nicholas with interest.
‘It is money. The purse comes from the Senate. It is to fund any journey you may make through the Tartar khanates to the court at Tabriz. I am empowered to give it you now, even before you make your decision.’
The purse was heavy. Nicholas weighed it in his hand. He said, ‘I may not be too cynical as yet for a challenge, but Tabriz seems to have saviours enough. Perhaps I should wait until Anselm Adorne and the Patriarch have finished there.’
The eyes in the button face glanced about and returned with a considering look. Zeno said, weighing his words, ‘I should like to think that Adorne might not succeed in reaching Tabriz. The lord Uzum Hasan is uneasy. A Genoese voice at this delicate stage might, in my view, endanger the whole Venetian alliance. I am not alone, I am sure, in that view.’
It was like the old days: plan and counter-plan, filament crossing filament. Nicholas said, ‘Perhaps you are right, but it is too late to stop Adorne now. He is presenting his letters. He is ready to leave.’
‘He has not presented his letters. The King set out from Thorn this morning, and the Queen left the building when you did. The princes will appear, for form’s sake, at the games, and then they, too, will leave.’
‘Adorne will follow,’ Nicholas said.
Zeno shook his head. ‘Not without a safe conduct which, sadly, the King has not thought to provide. And no one knows when the King may return: perhaps not even this year.’
‘And the San Matteo?’ Nicholas said. ‘Has the King made any ruling?’
But, of course, the answer was no.
Zeno talked. Nicholas watched what he could see of the house over the street where, for twelve days, Anselm Adorne had attempted in vain to see a King who did not wish to be seen. There was no sign of activity. Adorne might not give up; he might set out for Tabriz despite everything. Or he might respond to the rebuff by returning to Danzig at once, to the merchants who might cede, in time, to his claims and give him some small success to report back to the Duke. Nicholas had known Adorne for most of his life, and had fought him for part of it. In business, the older man had given no quarter, and had treated him, seven months ago, with freezing contempt. He did not care what Adorne did, but he found that he did not wish Kathi to leave before he had seen her. He would send her a note.
He thought of something else. ‘The Patriarch? Where is the Patriarch in all this?’
Zeno broke off what he was saying. He said, ‘Physically, he is, or was, with the King. Whether he continued with him, or called back to Thorn, I do not know. And in every other sense he stands as he did: as the legate of the Pope and the Emperor, on his way to Tabriz by way of the Black Sea and Caffa. He is, of course, well known to the King and is acceptable to Uzum Hasan, as you are. In his case, there are no complications.’ He made an agreeable pause. ‘You may find he has left you a message.’
‘Then I should probably return and look for it,’ Nicholas said. ‘You are going to the games?’
‘To entertain. The Confrérie have invited me to conclude the day with a display. It is nothing: a little mounted archery in the Persian style. You would not care to join me? I have a short bow you could use.’
‘Today, you will have to forgive me,’ said Nicholas. ‘But Julius is the man you should ask. Go and speak to Julius, if