Pawn in Frankincense - Dorothy Dunnett [96]
Philippa, watching Archie’s reminiscent black eyes, remembered suddenly who this must be. Archie’s hero, Pierre Gilles of Albi, scholar and zoologist, who for years had toured the Levant on commission from the monarchs of France, finding and buying precious manuscripts for the French royal libraries, and sending home unique animals for the French royal menageries. Archie knew and revered Pierre Gilles of old; and for a moment Philippa wondered if the pull was strong enough to divert him to Aleppo, and away from his search for the child. But although he asked one or two questions, Abernethy soon dropped the subject when it became clear that the other man had no other information; and taking Netta instead, began to examine the parrot.
Later, as the parrot’s treatment progressed and they met, day after day, in the courtyard in company with the dervish lying peacefully on his swords and the Sicilian merchant muttering over his papers, Philippa learned that few people knew their Europe better than Sheemy. As terdji-man, or interpreter to traders, and dabbling in the barter line sometimes himself, he crossed and recrossed the seas. Just now, he had stepped off a boat bound for Venice with a cargo of Tripoli ash for glass-making: ‘Man, that’d gie ye a hoast,’ said Sheemy. ‘Rubric from Aden: that’s another hell o’ a cargo. Ae spatter o’ rain, and your hinter end’s reid as twa cherries.’
‘What’s the cargo you like best to carry?’ said Philippa.
‘Wine,’ said Sheemy fondly. ‘Now there’s good living for you. A wee hole through the bung and a good stout reed in your jaws, and ye can sook like a lord till you’re paralysed. I’ve had it that far down the barrel I’ve had to join three reeds together and I took a week to get over the crick in my neck.’ He rubbed it, remembering, and scratched. ‘I dinna ken if it’s the ash or the lice, but I could fairly caper with itches.’
‘You’ve got spots,’ said Philippa, viewing him critically. ‘I expect it’s the garlic.’
The triangular mouth funnelled like an exhaling cod. ‘Christ,’ said Sheemy Wurmit, and after a quick squint down his shirt, to her surprise, he shot into his chamber, undoing his strings as he went. A moment later the Sicilian, who had been listening unashamedly, followed him, his face white where it wasn’t powdered lightly with pimples. A great deal of shouting followed, in which the guardian and his wife took a full share; and a small crowd began to gather, like magic, outside the walls. The dervish, scratching abstractedly, looked up from the board full of nails he was lying on, and spoke to Archie Abernethy, who was pitching dice all to himself in the dust. Archie said, ‘I expect they think it’s the pox.’
‘That’s nonsense,’ said Philippa firmly. ‘My goodness, as if I hadn’t seen spots just like that all over the stable-boy just before I came away. It’s chicken-pox; that’s what it is; and I’ve had it, and we’re due out on Thursday.’
‘It’s chicken-pox,’ agreed Archie. ‘And you’ve had it, but we’re not due out on Thursday. Instead, we’ve just got ourselves another forty days’ quarantine.’
The dervish proved a very bad patient and they had to tie mittens on him to stop him from scratching the scabs. ‘You’ll be marked for life, Haji Ishak,’ said Philippa sharply. Her Arabic was becoming much better under Archie’s tuition, and Sheemy gave her two hours of Turkish a day. It was at the end of one of these that he showed her his pearls.
Philippa had wondered, but had not asked, why the little dragoman had left ship at Zakynthos. Now, looking at the lustre and size of the heaped pearls in paper-thin kid which he untied and set down before her, she didn’t ask if they were bought or smuggled or stolen, but smiled and admired them until he put one in her hand and told her to keep it. ‘Another o’ Nature’s marvels,’ said Sheemy, brushing aside her alarmed thanks. ‘A fellow told me. On the twenty-fourth of the month this dew comes down on the water and it’s collected, wrapped, and flung into the sea; and then at the right time these other fellows