Race of Scorpions - Dorothy Dunnett [203]
‘It is not, I hope, being offered to Aphrodite,’ said Fiorenza of Naxos.
Chapter 29
NEXT MORNING, Nicholas received the rough awakening that no doubt he deserved. The second time, Loppe made quite sure that he couldn’t remain on his mattress so he got up, and made with his eyes shut for the privy, and was sick; which presumably made everyone happy. Then he went back and slid himself into linen breeches and a loose tunic with a scarf round his waist, and a sleeveless robe over that, which was all his skin could bear without buckling. There was some blood about, where his newly-healed wound had come apart, not surprisingly under the circumstances. He said nothing about it and neither did Loppe. Tobie made no appearance. A little later, John le Grant arrived, an event he had forgotten to prepare for and about which no one had reminded him. By then he was sitting with Loppe in his office, going over essential figures for the day’s work. John came in like a red-headed sparrow and said, ‘Well? How did it go?’ He looked again and said, ‘Christ. It turned into an orgy?’
‘You might say that,’ said Nicholas carefully. He began to pull himself together, in order to forestall anyone doing it for him. Some time ago, he had finally realised that he was irredeemably alone. Up till then, the others had deferred to his special skills and allowed him therefore to lead them, but the old companionship had remained, and the hare-brained exploits; and the times of ease, when he was teased and indulged and insulted as a boy among men.
But since then, others had joined him. John le Grant had never known the apprentice in Flanders; neither had Crackbene. The Venetians among whom he was working; the Mamelukes; the Lusignan court all took him for what he was now, and he couldn’t revert, if he was to carry the company forward. Zacco had seen that, before he did. Zacco, conducting his own subtle enquiry for his own ends, had said to him, in one of those curious sickbed visits in Nicosia: ‘Why do you not take your own advice? If I have erred, you have erred also. You have brought your company to follow the happy meteor that is Niccolò, instead of a cause, or a target, or a purpose. They come for money, of course; for adventure perhaps; but for you most of all. And thus you demean them, you make of them nurses. What is your doctor, but a man who acts as your mother? What is your negro, but a man whom you will one day have to turn off, or else make your lover? Is it that you do not have a true purpose, Niccolò? Is it that all this is just a means to surround yourself with a family?’
He was clever, Zacco. At the time, Nicholas had laughed and then said, ‘My lord, you mean well; but you haven’t met all my company. I doubt if my lawyer or my priest think of themselves as my nurses. But I understand what you say. It is something to be avoided.’
To which Zacco had merely said, ‘If you can avoid it. If you can do without it. There are many men, otherwise strong, who cannot face bitter winds without lovebands. Consider those you have bound. Consider what they lose if you fall, or you stumble.’
He had made some answer and, having time, had considered it for several nights until Tobie, in his motherly role, had shown anxiety. Despite Zacco’s personal bias, there was truth in what he said. For ten months Nicholas had been alone, owing responsibility to no one. Then he had rejoined his community, and found it comfortable. Months ago, he had realised what was happening. He had just been slow to stop it. Perhaps because, in the long run, he did have a purpose.
Now, outfacing le Grant’s mild freckled leer, Nicholas said, ‘The visit was a brilliant success. We showed Little Venice all over Stavros. I couldn’t stop Loppe exaggerating. Corner, Loredano and Zorzi came, and they’ll tell the other Venetians about it. They took away the impression that we are efficient, well-equipped and liable to be extremely productive.’
‘The Martini?’ said le Grant.