Race of Scorpions - Dorothy Dunnett [139]
‘They won’t get it if they don’t do as I ask. Primaflora will stay. Loppe, I must talk to her.’
The rich, musical voice never gave anything away. Loppe said, ‘I shall try to arrange it. She shares a cabin, but the other lady, I hear, does not travel well. You know, of course, the demoiselle is also on board?’
‘Who?’ said Nicholas. He saw by the look in Loppe’s eyes that he had spoken too quickly.
‘Katelina van Borselen,’ said Loppe. ‘At her own request, she goes to Kyrenia. And the boy.’ He paused and said, ‘I see I have given you some very bad news. I am sorry.’ Presently he said, ‘Messer Niccolò? I must go.’
Nicholas said, ‘Yes, of course. The boy?’
‘Diniz Vasquez. He did not sail for home with Ludovico da Bologna. He stayed on Rhodes with his aunt. I imagine,’ said Loppe’s gentle voice, ‘that he wished to protect her in the course of vengeance on which she is set. She blames you for the death of his father.’
‘I’m a fool,’ Nicholas said. ‘And it’s too late. She is here.’
He spoke to himself. But he saw, from Loppe’s eyes, that he understood him.
Loppe said, ‘It can be dealt with. There is only one thing that matters now. There are many lives in your hands. It would be wise to forget these family concerns until you are safely in Cyprus.’
‘Of course,’ said Nicholas. Loppe hesitated, and then took his leave, locking the door of the cabin behind him. Nicholas remained in the rocking chamber, gazing at the place where he had been, and seeing nothing. Katelina, Diniz, Primaflora. Obscuring his concise and elegant plans, the promise of misery.
Chapter 21
THE PROSPECT of being locked up in the cabin of Louis de Magnac for four or even five days and nights was one which Nicholas might have found depressing, had there not been worse things to dwell on.
Wealthy, grey-haired, distinguished, the Grand Commander of Cyprus had held the fief of Kolossi for twelve years, and his was the hand that had built the present great keep of the Knights there. It was de Magnac’s special domain that Nicholas had polluted by his attack on John de Kinloch, and by his abstraction – far more serious – of the diverted Kolossi sugar. Decked with the Order of the Sword, Nicholas had been allowed to house his men in Louis de Magnac’s own palace in Rhodes. Even his condemnation and banishment by the Grand Master had been transmuted by Queen Carlotta, whom Louis de Magnac revered, and whose very loyal servant he was. The Queen needed the services of this man Niccolò’s army, and the Grand Commander therefore was prepared to deliver him, as undertaken. He was not likely, however, to allow the fellow to enjoy the voyage.
So Nicholas read the mind of his unwilling host, and from the silent contempt with which he was treated, he gathered that he had read it correctly. They shared no meals together, and by day de Magnac was mostly on deck. At night, they slept on their own mattresses along with the Grand Commander’s personal servants. Whenever Nicholas was left alone, the door was kept locked. For the first day of the voyage and half of the next, he saw no one else.
He had asked Loppe to work a miracle and persuade Louis de Magnac to let him see Primaflora. He should not therefore have been as amazed as he was when informed curtly on the second afternoon that the Queen’s lady attendant wished to question him, and that the Grand Commander had given permission. She arrived flanked by two soldiers who took their stance, with difficulty, on the heaving floor of the cabin. The Grand Commander, as was usual, was absent.
The seas had remained very high. During her few steps on deck, his mistress’s hair had tugged itself from its caul and her cheeks were whipped into colour behind the light creams. Her eyes sparkled. He smiled back, taking her hands as she tried to keep her balance. Helping her to a seat, he took one beside her and addressed her in Greek, ‘It’s like old times. Whom have you beguiled this time?