Pawn in Frankincense - Dorothy Dunnett [306]
Jerott said, ‘We’ve been coming all day nearly, in different ways. Francis had it arranged early this morning, first with Míkál and then with the rest of us. Then he got the Embassy preoccupied, you see with … various …’
‘I see,’ said Philippa. ‘It would have been awkward, I suppose, if I’d had a nerve-storm and stopped the wedding just as you were all climbing out of the window, or whatever you did. But I really would like to have been told.’
Jerott cleared his throat. ‘He didn’t like doing it.’
‘I’m sure he didn’t,’ said Philippa. They didn’t speak the rest of the way.
She was persuading Kuzúm into the darkness of the tunnel when they all heard, far across the dark cistern, the sounds of a fierce hammering, muffled by distance.
‘They’re breaking into the house.’ Lymond, leaning down, his hand on her arm, said, ‘Philippa, there’s no time to coax him. Hand him to Marthe, and jump up yourself. We have to get rid of the boat.’
Then she was in a black, reeking conduit, just high enough to let them walk stooping, and when Kuzúm stood suddenly still, frenzied rejection on his white dirty face, she helped Marthe tie her handkerchief over his mouth.
Lymond scuttled the boat, sending the small raft first spinning into the darkness; and then quickly and silently rebuilt the entrance with bricks. Jerott, the dim lamp in his hands, looked at him for a moment in question, and then without speaking pushed past to Gaultier and Gilles and led the way forward. For good or evil, their retreat was cut off.
On the long, scrambling journey to the treasure-chamber, none of them spoke. Míkál, sure-footed and slender, helped Marthe and Philippa through the narrow, rubble-blocked openings, and Jerott, his teeth on edge with his slowness, walked behind the old man. Gaultier, the least agile of them all and the most desperate, thrust painfully through, battering himself and colliding with others, with Archie a noiseless shadow behind. Last of all Lymond picked his way bearing Kuzúm, the little boy’s face in his shoulder, the second lamp in his hand.
There was no noise behind. There was no sound ahead, but the slithering crunch of their feet scaling the uneven landslides of limestone and brick, and the sudden rattling fall of small gravel disturbed by their weight. Scrambling on grimly, hot and dirty in her long robes, Philippa wondered about Marthe and her uncle, and the secret they seemed to have kept from them all. She was not clear, from what Jerott had said, exactly what part in the business Pierre Gilles had played. On other points, too, Jerott had been exceedingly brief. When she had asked what would happen now to the relics, Jerott, on the other hand, had given an unamused smile.’ You weren’t present at the interview between Marthe and Francis this morning. He called her one of nature’s bloody little hermaphrodites. Then he told her she was a mercenary bitch and could pay for it.’
Philippa said, ‘When did he say that? This morning? Not last night?’
‘Look, he wasn’t in any state to command language like that last night,’ Jerott had said. ‘Anyway, he hardly saw her except at the chess game. No, this morning. Why?’
‘She doesn’t hate him,’ Philippa had said. ‘Last night she wanted to help.’
And Jerott had paused before saying, ‘Well, I’m damned sure she won’t want to help now. We’re using this conduit as a means to get through to the Hippodrome and out before Roxelana traces and stops us. She and Gaultier and Gilles can all take from the chamber in passing such small relics as they can put in their sleeves or their purses. All the rest must be left. The master has spoken.’
He sounded disenchanted and angry. Philippa had said, ‘Do you think Roxelana would really be interested in pursuing Gaultier and Marthe? Gilles wasn’t even at the Seraglio.’
‘You have put your finger,’ Jerott had said blandly then, ‘on the point at present exercising M. Gaultier. On the other hand, the only way to be sure is to stay behind and see whether they kill