Niccolo Rising - Dorothy Dunnett [267]
But Lionetto’s eyes were on Jaak de Fleury. He said, “I didn’t believe it. Rumours, I said. But I thought I’d make sure, with all that new money I’d sent. The Pope’s money. The cash from all the booty. And there was your Milan agency closed. Your man Maffino absconded. No money. No money for Lionetto.” He smiled. His nose spread, glittering among the wholemeal crumbs of his skin. “So I asked about my money in Geneva. All my money. All the savings I’d lodged there. And what am I told? Gone as well. All gone. And why?”
He said the word gently. As he said it, his right arm flashed out. A splash of blood appeared on Jaak de Fleury’s shoulder and the merchant made a sound and jumped back, his sword lifted.
Lionetto lowered his, artfully. “Why? The Duke of Savoy, they say, has told Jaak de Fleury to hand over all Lionetto’s savings. That’s what they say. That’s what they want me to believe. But was Lionetto born yesterday? No.”
Again, he moved. The sword flashed. It pirouetted past the merchant’s sword, wildly lifted, and touched and entered the merchant’s arm. Lionetto said, “I think you have all my money.”
The pink in Jaak de Fleury’s face had altered, by measure of a small beaker, say, of diluted woad. He was gasping. He said, “Of course I haven’t. It’s your own fault. You changed sides. You moved from Piccinino to the Aragon side. The French heard. They gave orders. Everything you had was to be confiscated. Savoy ordered me.”
“Really?” said Lionetto. He danced forward. The merchant moved back. “Perhaps they did. But of course, you got compensation.”
“No!” said Jaak de Fleury. “They promised. They didn’t pay. I’d invested it all. The withdrawal bankrupted me. I’m a bankrupt.”
“So I see,” said Lionetto. His sword flicked. A jewel flew from the merchant’s collar. “Penniless,” said Lionetto. “So where is my money?”
Nicholas said, “It’s true. The King of France told Savoy to confiscate it. He is bankrupt. It’s Charetty money he’s living off.”
Lionetto turned. “No money?”
“No. Leave him alone,” Nicholas said.
Julius said, “Nicholas! He was going to kill you.”
“Oh?” said Lionetto. “Why was he trying to kill my little Nicholas? Perhaps I will spare him. I wouldn’t mind killing Nicholas now and then, myself. I nearly killed your doctor, did I tell you? I met him riding north. Your doctor Tobias. It was the money he brought that made me leave Piccinino. But he pointed out that he’d meant me no harm. He’d made me rich, which was true. Except that I’m not rich, am I? And whose fault is that?”
Jaak de Fleury was not a cowardly man. His self-esteem had never made courage necessary. He stood, breathing quickly, and said, “I see no point in continuing this.” And turning his back, he walked away.
Lionetto, on the other hand, was a mercenary. He said, “Nor do I, my dear monsieur.” And taking three unhurried steps after him, ran him straight through the back.
Standing over the sprawled, athletic body, he tugged out his blade, examined it, and then wiped it carefully on a patch of grass. “I hope,” said Lionetto, “that you all observed. This poor Nicholas was fighting for his life when I saved him. What are all those people doing there?”
“Watching you save Nicholas,” Julius said. He was breathing rather quickly as well. “Do you have urgent business in Bruges?”
Lionetto cast his glance round, and scowled at Nicholas. “Not now,” he said. “Don’t I remember having cause to complain of you once as well?”
“You did,” said Nicholas. “But another man fought me on your behalf. I think you could call the matter fully closed.”
Lionetto grunted. “Did you win?”
“No. I lost,” Nicholas said.
Lionetto’s fiery eyes swept the field beyond Jaak de Fleury, to where a dead man lay on one side of the wall and another just over it. He said, “Well, you seem to have got the knack now. If you want to claim the old fellow’s death, I won’t contradict you. I need a coin to get me a lodging