Niccolo Rising - Dorothy Dunnett [111]
“Not about this,” said Claes with confidence.
It wasn’t true. His face ached and bled and he kept dabbing at it. But the need to talk kept his mind occupied. He had already laid on her desk the reports from Astorre; the details of the Milanese contract and the Naples posting, the lists of men and horses, supplies and equipment copied neatly for her by Julius. Now he sat in the high settle and spoke to it.
The demoiselle took her platter to her own table. While she ate, she held her pen in the other hand and used it, noting and checking his figures.
He still drank intermittently, but not enough to make him careless. The items went by one by one. The negro Loppe had been safely delivered to the Duke, and there was a letter about him. The Medici goods, including the horses, had arrived in good order. Julius was with Astorre. The doctor had remained in Milan to deal with an accident to Brother Gilles. A very slight accident.
She queried that, and received a brief account which said nothing of avalanches or Gaston du Lyon. She did not query the equally brief account of the business transactions, such as they were, which had taken place at the house of Jaak de Fleury. He mentioned having bought some cheap armour on the way north in case Astorre needed to refit or add men to the company. She asked questions, and he gave her answers, but went no further than that. Not just yet.
Then he turned to his own work, and spoke carefully. He had delivered the bills and the letters, and had found a sure market for a good courier service. They would require relays of men, and extra horses, but he had orders already to cover the outlay. He named clients in Milan. They included Pigello Portinari and the Florentine friends of Pierfrancesco Medici. He had promises from the Strozzi and the Genoese and the Venetians and even the Curia. And the Duke’s secretary had been impressed, and said that he might well place dispatches with him from time to time. It would require someone in Bruges to train the couriers and to supervise the relays. Perhaps someone in Milan also. It was for the demoiselle to say who. These were the receipts so far, and these the draft contracts.
She laid her pen down and began to look at the receipts, slowing down as she proceeded. She laid the last one on the table and looked up at Claes. She said, “These are very large sums.”
“Yes, demoiselle,” said Claes. He sustained her blue stare.
She said, “You know very well these are extraordinary payments for a courier service. In fact, they are not for a courier service, are they? This is what Jordan de Ribérac was talking about. These are fees for information already received, or bought in advance. Is that so?”
He had known, uneasily, that he was going to have to explain that. He said, “Every state pays for information, and every courier opens papers. We might as well get the profit as another.”
She said, “I would have believed you if M. de Ribérac hadn’t made a point of it. He mentioned the Acciajuoli and Gaston du Lyon. Neither name is here.”
Claes said, “Because they’re indirect clients. I met Gaston du Lyon, and he may recommend us to the Dauphin. The Acciajuoli are the Florentine friends of Pierfrancesco Medici. The Medici are clients, and I hope they’ll direct the Bruges branch to use us. I saw Angelo Tani this morning.”
The diversion didn’t work. She said, “I’m waiting for you to tell me why de Ribérac made a point of mentioning them. I take it the Acciajuoli are relatives of the man you hurt at Damme?”
His cheek was beginning to thicken. He said, “The ones I saw come from Florence. The other branch of the family stayed in Greece and became dukes of Athens and princes of Corinth, until the Turks came. Since then, of course, they’ve all been captured or exiled.” He glanced at her. She raised her eyebrows, and kept them raised. “– Or trading under licence with the Turks,” he said reluctantly. “That’s what the vicomte was hinting.”
She said, “Trading in what?”
He said, “Anything. Silk, of course. They’re importing