Race of Scorpions - Dorothy Dunnett [299]
‘Holding your other arm,’ said John le Grant. ‘The sooner you get into bed, the sooner you’ll get big and strong and able to fight Tzani-bey.’
It was something Nicholas had given no thought to just recently. He swore; then, finding himself unexpectedly in a bed, went to sleep.
The next night, Tzani-bey rode up to the land gate. He had a small retinue with him, but made no attempt to bring them in, merely requesting leave to walk alone to the Citadel. He was given an escort and taken there. While he remained at the end of the drawbridge, one guard spoke to another, and a captain appeared and crossed to him. ‘My lord emir, the Commander regrets. After nightfall, entry here is prohibited. Since I cannot admit you, is there any message I might pass?’
‘It was not the Commander I sought,’ said Tzani-bey al-Ablak. ‘Although – may he be prosperous – I would wish you to convey to him my felicitations on his well-deserved and excellent appointment. I sought out my brother soul Niccolò, with whom I believed I had some business of consequence. I have waited to hear from him. But perhaps he does not care to come out?’
‘He is here, most excellent,’ Nicholas said. He crossed the drawbridge, taking his time, until he looked down on the emir. He said, ‘We spoke of a meeting. You have in mind a time and a place?’
‘In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful,’ said Tzani-bey. ‘Is it for myself, full of dross, to suggest it? For me, one day is as well as another. There lie before us auspicious days only. The evil days of this month – the Egyptian days – these are all now behind us with their curses. Whoso may wed a wife, he shall not long have joy of her. And who that taketh any great journey shall never come back again. And he that beginneth any great work shall never make end of it. And he that letteth him blood shall soon die, or never be whole. Such are the dooms of the Dies Nefastae, of which one, as I recall, is your Saint’s Day. But why should the ramblings of doctors disturb you? I would fight you on horseback, with sword and with mace, within two days from now. And for your greater contentment, let us make our sport in Famagusta. There is an exercise ground?’
‘There to your left,’ Nicholas said. ‘But would the emir regard it as fitting? The Commander’s orders are strict. The emir’s entourage would not be permitted.’
‘Allah the Best Knower has endeared his faith to me, and I trust you and him. I shall come alone. I shall agree to whatever you choose. The day after tomorrow? An hour after sunrise? You may wish to hold festival; permit games; arrange other combats. It keeps men from wearying. It is not a sweet city at present, Famagusta.’
‘It is agreed,’ Nicholas said.
‘In token of which,’ said Tzani-bey, ‘I have brought you a gift. This soldier carries it. Open it when I have gone, and think of me when you wear it.’
He left. In the Commander’s room in the Citadel, Conella Morabit was waiting for Nicholas. He said, ‘Now we know.’
‘You had him watched?’ Nicholas said.
‘Every moment. It was the soldier. The soldier who carried the parcel. A message passed.’
‘You heard the pact?’ Nicholas said.
‘You meet to resolve your dispute in the training field, and he comes alone. What do you make of it?’
‘The same as you. All the garrison will come to watch, whether public games are fixed round it or not. While they are out of the citadel, someone will open the gate to the quays.’
‘And four hundred armed men will enter, take the Citadel, and kill the King. It agrees with what we know of him. Except that the emir risks his own life.’
‘He’ll be in the field with me, when it happens,’ Nicholas said. ‘He can always use me as buffer. In fact, he’s got to keep me alive till it’s over, which I find rather cheering. I’m not entirely confident of killing Tzani-bey with a mace at the moment.’
Morabit was silent. He said, ‘But when he finds he is trapped, he will turn on you. No. The King