Race of Scorpions - Dorothy Dunnett [69]
Nicholas rose, his wounds aching, his muscles ill-fitting and grinding. He said, ‘So what price do I pay for the lives of my company?’
And received, again, the shock that reminded him that he did not know this young, comely man; that he must beware of comparing him with any of the careless, laughter-loving friends from his home. Zacco said, ‘It is not a high price. We face winter: they will not sail just yet, especially as Carlotta is expected in Rhodes. They will wait for her. Therefore, you will send to Rhodes, to say where you are. When it suits you, you will go there. You will tell them all I have told you. If they wish to go home, you will send them home. I shall not stop them. If they wish to come here and fight for me and for you, then I will pay them their full worth and more. But the choice is theirs, and yours. I will tell you this, too. I hope they will come. But my real need is for one man, and that man is you.’
Nicholas said, ‘And if I choose not to return?’
Zacco said, ‘I have already told you. For what you have undergone, reparation in rents will be paid, so long as I rule. You will suffer no harm. I shall merely know I was mistaken.’ The hazel eyes gleamed. ‘Despite my friends, I make many mistakes. But still, I trust my senses. Have you heard enough to reach a decision?’
‘When do you want my answer?’ said Nicholas.
‘When you are ready. You have heard of Marco Corner? He and Giovanni Loredano married sisters. They share a town palace here in Nicosia which other Venetians use: they offer you chambers there, while you consider your decision. It will give you peace, away from the Haute Cour. It will give you time, too, to hear the Venetian side of the dilemma. I think I am being fair?’
‘It was the word that sprang to my mind,’ Nicholas said.
The watching face of the knight remained stern: only the young man threw back a quirk of the mouth that changed slowly to something that was not laughter. Zacco said, ‘Try and come. Try. I need you with me, not against me. I need someone to think far, far ahead. I need another scorpion.’
‘I can see that you do,’ Nicholas said.
Chapter 11
NICHOLAS FOUND himself with the Venetians the following morning, after a night in the infirmary which restored some of his energy and gave him time for profound thought.
A speculative temperament was not something he would be credited with. Since he left the shores of Italy, he had been surrounded by men who knew nothing about him but hearsay. But then, even friends of his boyhood would not have been surprised at what had happened. He had been removed without his consent from what he had chosen to do; had objected; had been mishandled; had objected again. He had not been meek, but he had followed from habit his childhood response. Where nothing could be helped except by submitting, he submitted. Except once, in this case, on the journey from Cape Gata to Nicosia, where he had resisted to the end of his powers. On that occasion, however, he had known what was going to happen, whether he resisted or not.
On the morning he was to leave, Marietta of Patras had come to visit him. She wore a different kerchief, but the whistling voice was the same. He realised, when he stood, that she was above medium height as red-haired Greeks often were. She waved off the seat she was offered. ‘I have no time. My son says you have not immediately joined him? Because of Tzani-bey?’
‘Partly,’ Nicholas said. ‘It was not a welcome I should care to repeat.’
She had ordered him whipped. She had shown neither dismay nor embarrassment on learning her error, and he could detect none now. She had come to say something, and could see no reason to greet him with an apology. ‘If I arrange to have Tzani-bey killed,’ Cropnose said, ‘will you join my son? Bringing your army?’
‘Most certainly not,’ Nicholas said. ‘If your son punishes Tzani-bey as he deserves, then I might. Or again, I might not. But if