Race of Scorpions - Dorothy Dunnett [191]
‘Because you can end it whenever you wish, Highness,’ he said.
‘Well?’ said the woman called Cropnose.
And Nicholas smiled suddenly, so that both dimples showed, and said, ‘You have forbidden me to choose a topic. Do we return to fishing, or not?’
‘We do not return to insolence,’ she said. She did not look disturbed. She said, ‘You ask permission to buy some supplies from me.’
‘From the villages your Highness owns. I am told there is a surplus. Your factor has agreed a price he thinks is generous. I have to receive your Highness’s imprimatur.’
‘And you require these for my son’s business?’ she said.
Nicholas lowered his lids, in lieu of inclining his head. He said, ‘Without them, it cannot be successful.’
‘I see,’ she said. ‘Well, Messer Niccolò, I have decided to take advice. I have asked the opinion of your neighbour in Episkopi.’ She rang a bell. The door opened. She said, ‘Messer Loredano and Messer Erizzo may enter.’
Without stirring, Nicholas heaved a great sigh. Then he got to his feet. The one prudent step denied him by Diniz’s axe was the renewal of his commerce with the Venetians. By now, he had assumed they were all in the south but for the Bailie. He had planned to call on Erizzo tomorrow. But here he was, the representative of the Serenissima here in Cyprus: the bluff man who had kept him prisoner on the Doria, and whom he had last seen among the cats of Ayios Nikolaos, on the night that Tzani-bey called.
With the Bailie was Vanni Loredano, who had, of course, been on the ship and in the monastery and even in the Venetian house in Nicosia, where he and Nicholas had talked about sugar. That had been after Tzani-bey’s small intervention. Nicholas recalled Loredano’s dismay. Loredano thought, very likely, that he spent all his time being beaten. Nicholas bowed from the waist and Erizzo said, ‘You are better. We were distressed: an unfortunate accident. It will leave no ill effects?’
‘None, I am told. You sent the kindest of messages. They reached me. I am most grateful,’ Nicholas said. They both looked affable. Stools were brought, and they sat. A number of the Queen’s household entered and took their usual positions, and wine began to come round. Nicholas scratched his ear, and then took what was offered.
They were talking about the climate, a topic introduced by their hostess. Wives and children were mentioned, whose company was so delightful before the weather turned hot. The Bailie, Paul Erizzo, had a daughter called Anna. Marco Corner’s daughter Catherine was with her dear parents at Episkopi. Vanni Loredano (who was Marco’s factor as well as Erizzo’s deputy) had been joined on the same estate by his wife and their little son Matthew. Nicholas listened, not lifting his wine-cup. He remembered, with a tremendous suddenness, who the mothers of Catherine and Matthew must be.
The King’s mother said, ‘But we are not here to waste time. Messer Niccolò has brought a proposition. He wishes to buy up all the surplus eggs from my farms, and transport them to the royal cane fields in Kouklia. He also wishes a number of good laying hens and some cockerels. The request is not out of order. It is our practice, however, when a commodity is in short supply, to make sure that the Republic, our good friend, does not suffer. You, Messer Loredano, manage the neighbouring cane fields for the Corner. Would the Corner find this transaction disadvantageous?’
An involuntary smile crossed Erizzo’s face, and vanished. To Vanni Loredano, life was more serious. He looked at Nicholas, at the Bailie, and at the floor. Then he said, ‘Highness, to my recollection we have enough hens, and they are laying. We should not deprive the lord King of what is necessary.’
The woman’s veil blew in and out with quiet regularity. She looked speculatively at him, and then remarked ‘Good! And Messer Erizzo?’
The Bailie coughed. He said, ‘I believe the present number of birds to be quite