Disorderly Knights - Dorothy Dunnett [132]
Graham Malett said, one steadying hand on the framework above his head, ‘The chain will not lift tonight. The castle guard at St Angelo has been doubled and the Grand Master has ordered every knight to his post as if an enemy had arrived. If you are admitted tomorrow it will be to face imprisonment and worse, Marshal, as a traitor with your accomplices. And the Ambassador, to whom we should be on our knees in thanks … who has done all that man could do to persuade the Turk to raise the siege … who has delivered us all out of slavery and by God’s grace has brought us safely here.… You, sir, are being cursed from house to house in Birgu as the cunning instigator of what they call this scandalous capitulation.’
There was total silence, which the Baron d’Aramon at length broke in his quiet French. ‘This is the Grand Master’s doing? What else does he say?’
Gabriel, cap in hand, bent his cropped head. ‘That you obtained the Grand Master’s confidence by pretending an interest in preserving Tripoli. That by exaggerating the weakness of the town and the strength of Sinan Pasha’s forces you discouraged the men and led the Marshal to enter into dishonourable negotiation. That your presence in the Turkish camp was no less than a tacit sanction of Turkish conduct, as proved by the triumphal banquet, and by the vast treasures which passed from your hands to theirs. That your whole purpose in Tripoli was to end the siege quickly and so release the Turkish troops the French King needed to help him in his present war against Charles V. They have questioned every man aboard my brigantine about this,’ said Graham Malett, his straight gaze on d’Aramon. ‘They accuse you even of inciting the Turk to plunder the knights’ bodies once they had meekly surrendered.’
‘How widespread is this story?’ asked d’Aramon in the same quiet voice.
‘It has been carried of purpose through the whole of Birgu. It will be in Mdina tonight. Already feeling is high against you.’
‘I should not have believed it possible, even of the Order as it is today,’ said d’Aramon. He glanced at de Vallier, who in a kind of stupor gazed back. Behind them voices, singly then in helpless counterpoint, chord, chorus, began to stir into affrighted life. D’Aramon said, ‘For all our sakes, this must not be heard outside Malta. I shall ask to appear before the Grand Council and give a full answer to these lies.’
‘You may,’ said Gabriel. ‘And be sure you will not be unsupported. De Villegagnon and la Valette have risked their lives to defend you. But it is too ‘late. Three of the Order’s galleys left this afternoon for Sicily, Naples and Bône with the Grand Master’s version of Tripoli’s loss, and bearing letters of corroboration written by the Spanish knights to his dictation to all the Order’s commanderies in Europe. The Emperor is being well served. Also …’ he hesitated.
‘My God, is there more?’ said d’Aramon bitterly, and dropping into a chair, leaned one elbow on the littered table and pressed his fingertips to his closed eyes.
‘He will not pay for your hostages,’ said Graham Malett, low-voiced.
But by this time the French Ambassador had jettisoned delicacy. He dropped his hand, and jerking it round the taut, incredulous throng about him said, ‘And are we to send these men back to the slave market? I, their so-called enemy, humbled and impoverished myself to have them raised manacled from the sand and set free, and their own Order will do nothing to redeem their lives?’
‘What hostages? What payment?’ Jerott Blyth’s shriek carried above the rest.
Graham Malett turned. ‘When you and the Spanish knights lay unreleased, M. d’Aramon sued for your lives. He obtained them by paying all he had from his own private purse, together with a promise that the Order would in exchange release thirty well-born Turkish prisoners now in Malta. This the Grand Master has now refused to do, so that M. d’Aramon, who has to return to Constantinople to work, is being forced to dishonour his word.’
‘He shall not be allowed to suffer.