Race of Scorpions - Dorothy Dunnett [194]
There were bees and wasps, flies and gnats in the houses of pouring as well, where the boiled juice sagged and settled in conical moulds, steaming up from long benches like mangers. The place smelled of rank wood and straw, of the molasses filling the under-pots and the flat odour of clay, from the stacks of red funnels and vases. Marco Corner opened the door of a warehouse and let Katelina see the precious white cones of crystal sugar, the wealth of Cyprus, the costly indulgence of kings. Katelina praised them, as she had praised everything. She said, ‘Who can equal the Corner in the making of sugar? Yet the royal estates are in other hands. That surprises me.’
Marco Corner took her arm as they moved to the stables. ‘You speak of Messer vander Poele? Of course, he knows nothing of sugar. But then, he fights for King James, and should be rewarded. I have no objection to that. You might even say, to be cynical, that Kouklia and Akhelia are sadly in disrepair, and unlikely to offer much revenue. On the other hand, there are some who find Zacco’s choice of beneficiary distasteful. You saw the burning last night?’
The sky had flickered red in the west. Her woman had told her. So near? She said, stiffening, ‘That was Kouklia?’
‘It was quickly put out. Vander Poele has installed some system which draws on the aqueduct. But there have been other mishaps. The servants of God, demoiselle, offer their produce to God, and would prefer no competition.’
Katelina moved from shadow to sunlight. She said, ‘The Knights of Kolossi would harm a royal fief?’
The lord Marco Corner smiled. ‘The Grand Commander Louis de Magnac would be shocked if you said so. But their crop is owned by the Martini, who mourn the loss of their franchise in Kouklia. Other accidents may occur. Young Messer Niccolò would be wise to guard his new property. Now, it is late and you are pale: I have tired you. Let me find Vanni to escort you back to the house.’
She answered with gratitude, and only realised, received in the coolness of the villa, how exhausted she was. The princesses exclaimed, seating her, bringing her sherbet. ‘The heat! We should never have sent you. And what you have missed! An elegant deputation from Kouklia, on black-muzzled horses that cost someone, my dear, a great deal of money. We are bidden to visit the royal manor tomorrow. You will come? You do not mind meeting Niccolò vander Poele?’ Valenza said.
Katelina sat, feeling cold. Cured, then – if he had ever been as sick as he seemed – and well enough to take the initiative. She recalled the protestations he had made, threadbare now in her mind. He had said what anyone in his position would say. And for proof, he had kept Diniz captive, and had let the King’s mother send her here. Here to the Naxos princesses, whose sister had been with him in Trebizond and who were watching her, their narrow eyes smiling.
Katelina said, ‘I have no objection to meeting him. I hear there has been trouble at Kouklia.’
Fiorenza rose and lifted a flask. ‘He sent to warn us to look to our safety. It was kind. But privately Marco, of course, thinks we are in little danger. The Martini, after all, are from Venice. My dear, give me your glass.’
Katelina said, ‘The young man must be concerned on his own account. It is a royal fief, and his duty to manage it. And he cannot be here all the time.’
‘Because of the war?’ Valenza said. ‘That is true but, of course, Zacco will be the first to forgive him. And Kyrenia will fall to them soon enough. The guns are in place,