Race of Scorpions - Dorothy Dunnett [113]
‘Maybe too good with a razor,’ said John the Lion.
‘No. He’s called Lopez. He’s Portuguese, like the Vasquez,’ Nicholas said. ‘He wouldn’t harm them. Unless you think he’s got orders from Louis de Magnac? But the Knights at Kolossi were friendly.’
Loppe came up. Loppe, who – Tobie knew, Astorre knew – was indeed the servant of Nicholas, and would do whatever Nicholas wanted. Loppe went straight to Scougal with his black mantle and said, ‘Senhor, do you lead for the Knights? The horses have been found, and two of the four men. They are dead. I have to take you to where they lie. There are tracks, but they are confused. We need many men to follow them before it gets dark.’
It was not a mild emergency any more. The Knight said, ‘Sit behind me. Which men have died?’
‘I will run,’ said Loppe. ‘Not the foreigners. The men who died seem to be grooms. They were killed with arrows, like the dogs. You are all armed?’ He turned, scanning the rest of the party, and let his eyes widen.
Nicholas said, ‘You nicked my knees, but I forgive you. We’re all armed. We were on our way to a joust. Let’s go. There isn’t much daylight.’
Tobie stayed where he was. More, he grabbed Guinevere’s reins. He said, ‘That’s far enough for the women. It’ll be dark soon; it’s dangerous, and they’ll slow us.’
Primaflora said, ‘I don’t mind staying behind, if-’
‘I’m not stopping,’ said Katelina. ‘Get me a horse for myself.’
The courtesan smiled. ‘Then neither am I. Two horses.’
Tobie waited, expecting Nicholas to turn off the woman and leave her. Instead Nicholas pushed up the coils of his sleeves. ‘There’s no time. Half a horse each, as at present. Let’s go.’ He dug in his spurs. His burdened horse leaped and broke into a canter. Tobie hesitated. Behind him, his co-rider lifted both feet and kicked the flank of their mount which shied, collected itself, and began racing after the other. Astorre gave a short bark of appreciation and set off at speed, with the rest.
There was nothing to be done about Katelina. Of all people, Tobie couldn’t blame her for her aversion to Nicholas. None the less, it made him uncomfortable, or more uncomfortable than he already was. The Loathly Damsel’s dress was coated with mud, and it had begun to rain on his scalp. Tobie let his horse open up to a gallop, and cursed Nicholas and all his women.
It wasn’t far to the place where the dead servants lay. The negro, running ahead, stopped and waved. There were dark shapes among the thickets of broom, and a smearing of brown. Tobie drew rein, but the woman behind him neither spoke nor dismounted. Men were on the turf, bending over. He saw Loppe straighten, his eyes meeting those of Nicholas, although nothing was said. Tobie said, ‘Hell and damnation, what are they doing?’
Astorre answered him, mounted again. ‘Two dead men: the servants. They were killed by arrows, shot from a distance. They still had their swords at their sides. We’ve tracks from the two Vasquez horses, and a lot of footmarks, and a place over there where other horses were waiting.’
‘So someone’s got hold of the Portuguese?’ Tobie said.
Primaflora walked over. She had tied up the skirts of her gown, showing fine linen stockings full of holes and whiskered embroidery. Her hood had dropped back, and her hair fell treacle-gold in the wet. She said, ‘Messer Niccolò and the negro think not. They think they escaped on foot from the struggle, and the attackers set off to pursue them. The early searchers found horses’ tracks near Kalamonas, but most of the marks have been lost in the rain. It means casting wide in small groups, with only a short time before dark to do it. The Knights will give orders.’
‘Are you going on, madonna?’ said Tobie.
‘Why not?’ she said. She was not smiling. ‘It is quicker than going back.’ She said to Katelina, ‘Demoiselle, your kinsmen may have