Race of Scorpions - Dorothy Dunnett [42]
You might not say the same of King Ferrante, whose force they were joining. The King had needed a lot of help to hold on to Naples, and keep out John of Calabria, who was the son of King René of Anjou. He still needed help. Having the Pope on his side was an asset, and the contract money was good. But Captain Astorre, like Thomas himself, was not actually waging a personal war on behalf of the Pope, or Ferrante or Skanderbeg. He just wanted a smack at Piccinino, his opposite mercenary leader, who was sitting with the combined Angevin forces just eighteen miles away, to the north-east at Lucera. And John of Calabria, it seemed, was now with them.
What lay ahead might well be the decisive battle by which Ferrante would keep or lose Naples. In public, Astorre, Ferrante and Skanderbeg were certain of victory, and hardly needed their ally, Urbino. The truth was, they had lost track of Urbino. Report claimed the Count was in the north, pursuing his feud against Malatesta. If that was so, he could never march southwards in time. Or if he did, he’d need days to recover. They had, therefore, to face Piccinino and his master without him.
Discussions of strategy didn’t involve Thomas. He was with his smith at the forge when Astorre came out of the leaders’ pavilion with his beard split in two with a grin. He slapped Thomas on his considerable back. ‘Thomas! You said you didn’t know where young Nicholas was. I know where he is.’
‘Bruges?’ said Thomas.
‘Manfredonia,’ Astorre said. ‘Three days away. Two, if they hurry. Less, if they’ve already set out. And how’s this? He’s brought part of Urbino’s troops with him.’
It seemed unlikely. It seemed also, in a vague way, unfair. ‘They’ll be too tired to fight,’ said Thomas. He had spent all the money. He had got rid of the woman. Why had Master Nicholas come back into his life?
‘They won’t. They’ve just sailed in on his round ship,’ said Astorre. ‘Mick Crackbene brought them. That Nicholas, the cunning young devil! He’ll get paid for the lease, and he’ll get paid by Ferrante when he gets here. How’s that for a profit? And the doctor’s with him. Master Tobias. He’ll get paid for him, too.’
‘You’re going to let him finance us,’ said Thomas. ‘You’re going to let him take over the company?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Astorre. ‘He’ll have to pay. He’ll have to make a few improvements. But I have a very good rule. Never refuse money. Never refuse a man wanting to spend money, Thomas.’
If it had been money alone, Thomas wouldn’t have minded. But he knew that Astorre was pleased. Astorre was delighted to have his boy back. Astorre was proud that of all the defunct branches of his defunct business, Nicholas had chosen his army to be with.
Urbino’s men, foot and cavalry, arrived within hours. With them were the doctor, Tobie, and Nicholas. Nicholas had a blue hand, from which the bruises had only half faded. Tobie had a scar on his neck which disappeared down into the throat of his crumpled best shirt. Because of the heat, he had left off his gown, and his bald head was shining. He noticed Thomas and made his way over. Nicholas had been pounced upon by Astorre. ‘Couldn’t keep away from a good war! I knew it!’
‘Is it a good war?’ said Nicholas.
‘I’ve seen worse,’ said the captain. Above the beard with its random grey hairs, his lined face was rosy. ‘A bit of artillery. Some handguns, and crossbow work. Plenty to play with. We’re occupying that height tonight. Give Piccinino something to think about. And have you come to stay?’
Nicholas said, ‘You’ve signed on under Ferrante and Skanderbeg?’
‘For the season. For the meantime. We’ve only to lick this fellow, and we’re just about free. If Piccinino goes, John of Calabria will have to give in.’
‘Will he? He’s here, then?’ said Nicholas.
‘He’s in Lucera. They’re all