Race of Scorpions - Dorothy Dunnett [146]
Astorre came up. He said, ‘It’s Zacco’s Mamelukes.’
‘We know,’ said Nicholas. ‘We can’t fight. He’s got wildfire. Diniz … Where’s Diniz Vasquez?’
‘Behind you,’ said the boy’s voice. It sounded low, in all the hubbub.
Nicholas turned. ‘Your aunt and the other ladies are locked in one cabin. Go below, free them, and stay with them. The lady Primaflora will have the key. Thomas, go to the Grand Commander’s cabin and release M. de Magnac with my apologies. Messer Napoleone –’ He broke off. ‘Listen.’
A man from the nearest galley was hailing them. The face above the mouth-trumpet was not Egyptian, and the message coming in gusts over the water was in excellent French. ‘This is the spokesman of the emir Tzani-bey al-Ablak, commander of the Mameluke forces of James, King of Cyprus, hailing a ship of the Order of Hospitallers. Who is in charge?’
Lomellini hesitated. The Rhodian shipmaster, horn in hand, was running towards him. The Genoese took the horn from him, and raised it to his mouth. ‘This is a vessel of the Order of Knights Hospitaller of St John, sailing from Rhodes. We have on board the Grand Commander of Cyprus, the Knight Louis de Magnac. The Order is not at war with the Sultan of Cairo. The Order demands to proceed without let or hindrance.’
The wind thrummed and wailed. The ship creaked, rising to the crest of each wave and falling into the trough. On board, there was no sound from the seamen or the soldiers or the merchants as they stood, keeping their balance. The enemy spokesman said, ’The King, for whom the emir speaks, has no quarrel with the Order. But it has come to the King’s attention that you carry grain and gunpowder and arms to those who persist in holding the lands of his sister Carlotta against him. Moreover, you carry soldiers, a troop of mercenaries under the Flemish broker Niccolò of Venice and Bruges. His serene grace wishes no ill to the Knights of the Order, but he holds to his right to prevent the Order from interfering in a war which is not their concern.
‘Accordingly, I have to tell you that you and your ship are the King’s captives. Facing you is a battery which will send you to Heaven before you have time to pray. You will allow the lord emir to board you, and to place a man of his own at the helm. You will then be escorted to the King’s harbour of Salines. Those of you who are innocent of malice may expect to be landed unharmed and put on your way. Your cargo will, of course, be confiscated. Those soldiers of fortune who, for gold, have come to take up arms against King James deserve no mercy and will be shown none. You have no hope of escape. At the first sign of insurrection, the King’s galleys have orders to burn you down to the water, no matter who or what may be on board. Do you understand?’
Louis de Magnac, looking pale, had arrived. He stared at Nicholas, then, seizing the trumpet, replied. ‘This is the Grand Commander of Cyprus. You are entirely mistaken. We carry nothing for the garrison of Kyrenia. We come to supply the Knights at Kolossi. We demand to pass.’
The voice on the other ship took its time replying, and when it did, the results of a consultation were apparent. ‘You do not carry on board Niccolò vander Poele and a hundred of his men?’
Answering the glare of the Grand Commander, Nicholas spoke low and quickly. ‘We are on our way home.’
The Grand Commander raised the trumpet again. ‘We do. They are on their way to the west. They offer no threat.’
On the other ship, the spokesman again turned aside to the emir. Then he lifted his trumpet once more. ‘You are far from the shipping lanes to the west, Grand Commander. You will forgive the lord emir if he does not believe you. You will come to Salines with your broker of mercenaries. Once on land, he and his fellow-adventurers will receive their deserts.’
The Grand Commander, his eyes on Nicholas still, allowed his face to relax. He said, ‘I can say no more. It is for Messer Niccolò to make his own case.