Pawn in Frankincense - Dorothy Dunnett [35]
That they had been recognized was certain, or the change of Viceroy would not have been concealed from them until now. That they would be treated with even an appearance of friendliness was debatable. For while Algiers, prompted by the Agha, might tolerate France, neither Salah Rais nor the Janissaries would suffer a Knight of St John to escape them. The circled, black eyes surveyed them. ‘Greetings,’ said Salah Rais, briefly, in Arabic.
Arab-style, hand on heart, Lymond also bowed, and, walking forward, bent to kiss the Governor’s hand. Jerott had no fear of his Arabic: it was a tongue they both knew. But to his surprise, Lymond answered in French. ‘From His Most Christian Majesty of France, greetings to Salah Rais, and felicitations on his new dignity. In token of which, and in recognition of the close friendship which lies between your Kingdom and that of France, my lord begs Salah Rais to accept some poor marks of fraternal regard.…’ The two-and-threepenny things, thought Jerott, despite himself entertained, and watched the box being opened.
The haul made an impression; as well it might, Jerott considered, watching the jewelled boxes, the chains, the belts and the bales of fine cloth begin to stack on the floor. So far so good. ‘And this?’ Lymond was saying, proffering something heavy, in metal.
‘Ah? What is this?’ said Salah Rais sharply; and as Jerott moved discreetly sideways to see, the Viceroy waved his hand to his chamberlain and, unfolding, moved down from the dais to take the object from Lymond himself.
It was a wheel-lock carbine, an exceptionally fine one, of a design Jerott had never before seen, and obviously quite new to Salah Rais. Experimental still in medium-range fighting in Europe, wheel-locks had hardly reached the western basin of the Mediterranean though the Sublime Porte, Jerott knew, had some matchlock weapons captured in Hungary. His lips tight, he watched Lymond hand the thing over, bright and beautifully made, saying, ‘It is loaded. If you will have matches brought, it may please you to fire it.’
Under the turban, the black eyes flickered. ‘Be it so,’ said Salah Rais and, clapping his hands, gave an order. A moment later, the carbine primed in his hands, he turned towards the French mission. ‘It comes from thy master, the friend of Algiers, so that the enemies of Algiers may be sent to perdition, as the lion stamps on its prey. He will rejoice with me when their sides fall down upon the ground and their souls depart from their bodies.’
He raised the short, heavy butt to his cheek and, smiling, took aim; and smiling, Lymond looked into the muzzle and bowed. ‘It is for that reason,’ he said, ‘that on my return to the harbour four more cases of carbines will be unloaded and presented to you with His Grace’s continuing esteem, together with ammunition to suit. Then may your enemies and his lie low indeed.’
There was a little pause. Lymond’s gaze met and held the black Egyptian eyes. ‘Even those carrion, the Knights of St John?’ said the Viceroy.
‘The Grand Master of the Knights of St John is not a Frenchman—yet,’ said Lymond. ‘The Most Christian King and the present Grand Master have severed relations. My esteemed companion, Mr Blyth, stands before you because he has retracted his vows, and I as an emissary of France to the Sultan Suleiman and a person favoured with Dragut Rais’s friendship. You may use these weapons where and upon whom you choose.’
Above the tracing of beard, the full lips puckered. ‘Thou art generous,’ said Salah Rais gravely, and fired.
Thundering back and forth