Race of Scorpions - Dorothy Dunnett [300]
‘Then he must have a poor opinion of my wits. Tzani-bey will be the one who is surprised, no one else. Besides,’ Nicholas added, ‘it’s what you might call a matter of honour, and the fount of honour must be James of Lusignan. I have promised myself this for a long time. In fact, when I came, it was a condition of service.’
‘I see,’ said Conella Morabit. ‘I am sorry to hear it, but I shall not, of course, try to persuade you. What, then, is the gift he has brought you? Something offensive?’
Wrapped in linen, the parcel was modest in dimensions and limp in character and innocent of any obvious threat. Nicholas opened it.
Inside was a beautiful cloak, lined with satin. When he lifted it out, it hung to the ground from his fingers, not ponderous as a fur mantle usually was, but weightlessly supple and silken, made by a master from thin, fine perfect skins pieced together with infinite artistry. Their colours glowed in the lamplight: smoke and silver and black, cream and tortoiseshell, orange and butter.
Nicholas loosed his hands as if holding a plague shroud. It fell and slid from his sight. ‘Burn it,’ he said. ‘Get your servant to burn it.’
Conella Morabit stared at him. ‘If you wish,’ he remarked. ‘But it is a thing of great price.’
Nicholas gave the statement some thought. He said, ‘And that is very true. I doubt if you can imagine what it has cost, and what it is still going to cost, before I have finished.’
The following day, Astorre came into his own. The King, torn between anger, and foreboding, and love of glorious danger, had been brought to agree to the piece of theatre which his Nikko demanded, and which might or might not prove the focal point of a Mameluke rebellion. Markios had no objections. Rizzo, departed suddenly for Nicosia, had not been present to give an opinion, and William Goneme, after praying briefly for everyone’s welfare, seemed to think that God had made a commitment. Pesaro seemed disapproving, but not Sor de Naves and his brother.
Most seemed unconvinced that the Mameluke attack would take place. All were optimistic, so far as his own prospects went. ‘If you’re right, your contest will hardly have started before the Mamelukes come, and we snare them. If there’s no revolt, all the better. The King has said he’ll have the duel stopped.’
‘He’ll have to work hard at that,’ said Nicholas to Captain Astorre, who had volunteered to teach him how to use a mace. ‘I’ve waited a year to get hold of Tzani-bey al-Ablak, and I’m not about to give him up to anyone.’ Astorre, who loved a challenge, was the right person to say that to; and John le Grant didn’t waste his time trying to stop him. Nicholas spent a day filled with bursts of furious activity in the training field, and crashed on to his truckle bed early that evening aching in every stretched and ill-nourished muscle.
Astorre said, ‘Well, you’ll need your wits about you. But that’s a good horse. Your sword is first-class, and your mace was got off one of the best fighters I ever knew, until I got hold of him. Also, you’ve fought with Muslims and against them. You know their tricks better than most. So when the Mamelukes come, pin him quickly. He won’t know you’re expecting it. He’ll be watching his men.’
‘If they come,’ Nicholas said. ‘What if Abul Ismail was wrong, or the emir guesses? Then he’ll attack hard from the beginning, because he won’t be waiting for anyone.’
‘So what’s wrong with that?’ said John le Grant. ‘A fair fight, face to face. I thought you asked for it. Gallant Knight to eminent Mameluke?’
Astorre looked indignant. ‘Except he’s not fit for it. Look at him! Putty!’
‘Thank you,’ said Nicholas, suddenly tickled. On occasion, Astorre’s tactics gave way to his truthfulness.
John was looking less serious, perhaps; but still thoughtful. John said, ‘That’s true. The man’s got you at a disadvantage. You’re entitled to some compensation. Make the big chivalrous gesture, but take any concession that’s going; that would be my advice. The fellow’s a weasel.’
He sounded unsympathetic, even exasperated. All right: