Niccolo Rising - Dorothy Dunnett [89]
Relating this later to Tobie, he was disbelieved. “Gold?” said Tobias. “He suggested you took gold, when ordinary currency would have been cheaper for him?”
“There it is,” said Julius, who had just finished a long, noisy stint paying wages and was tired of arguments. “Don’t complain to me if he was generous. It got him Astorre’s investments anyway.”
“What?” said the doctor.
“Pigello offered Astorre double the interest Fleury were giving him, and Astorre’s transferred his business to the Medici. There’s a vote of confidence for you. The Medici think Ferrante is going to stay King of Naples. Unless you think they are humouring us because of your uncle.”
“My uncle the Duke’s physician? No,” said Tobie. “He came to visit me while you were away, and has made it very plain that he considers I’m on the losing side. So you have to think of it another way. Ferrante fails, Astorre is killed, and the Medici don’t have to pay anything. I’m not really interested, but has Lionetto come to Italy yet, and if so, which side is he joining?”
“Why?” said Julius. “If it’s Anjou and the French and not Ferrante, will you cross back to him?”
“With my gold? It’s tempting,” said Tobie. He had pushed his hat to the back of his scalp, and his face with its neat, curled nostrils was passive. He said, “You should have taken our numerical genius with you to count it. Where was Claes last night?”
“Second column from the left, third name down,” Julius said. “I haven’t got a copy of the list yet, but they’re selling it in the yard for beer money.”
“Well, let’s get it,” said Tobie. “I’ll find Claes. Does he always do this?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been in a new town with him before,” said Julius. “I suppose he’s looking for something.”
“Safety in numbers,” said Tobie laconically.
He did not trouble, when Julius had gone, to send for Claes, as he knew from his uncle what Claes was doing, and where. He simply rammed down his hat, brushed off the short black gown of his profession and, wrapping himself in his cloak, set off for the delightful mansion of the Acciajuoli.
Chapter 14
THE MILANESE house of the Acciajuoli lay between the dust and mud of the cathedral and the dust and mud of the Castello, not far from the merchants’ piazza. There were unbroken lines of arcaded houses in squared stone and red brick and worked marble. There were impressive blocks with projecting eaves and arched windows and coats of arms over the doorways. There were churches, some inside enclosures. There were towers and staircases and balconies and upper-storey projections in timber that sheltered the streets and sometimes arched across them.
The big bell of the Broletto clanged out as Tobie left the crowded market streets for ones where there were fewer women, and the men, meeting briefly or hurrying to get in from the cold, wore wide or tall or draped hats, or the black caps of the professions, and kept warm in heavy gowns over padded damasks. Tobie looked in peoples’ faces as was his habit, and drew conclusions about the health of the city. Now that the Duke had it in hand, it was well run. The under-nourished, the crippled, the surgically punished were not to be seen in this quarter anyway. You would find them where the common houses were, and the workshops. And other afflictions known to the medical man, such as the burns and dull ears of the armourers.
But misery was not what Tobie mostly remembered, from his days calling there as a student. He remembered the heat, and the din, and the cheerfulness. In winter, you could get hot roasted chestnuts in Milan anywhere. He used to eat them