Race of Scorpions - Dorothy Dunnett [85]
He had formed an inexact strategy, as yet, for dealing with Simon, waiting on Rhodes for Tristão his partner. Astorre should be on the island as well, with his company. He had been told to remain, by the messages the Order had undertaken to convey to him. He had been told Nicholas was arriving from Cyprus. Fishing boats carried such intelligence. Nicholas only hoped that the warning had reached him. If, unwittingly, Astorre took his army to Kyrenia, Zacco would intercept and destroy him.
Meanwhile, wherever Astorre and the others might be, it was unlikely that Simon had not come across them. Rhodes was a small island: it would fit eight times into Cyprus. It seemed to Nicholas that, very likely, the die was already cast, and that both the Queen and the Order would have been told he was working for Zacco. Simon would expect him to come, to extract Astorre and his force from the island. Simon would perceive (and tell the Order), that Astorre was wrong in assigning Nicholas to the Queen’s faction. If Simon’s company favoured the Queen, then Nicholas, surely, would choose the opposite side. So Simon would reason. Simon, who loathed and despised Nicholas, because Nicholas had been born to his first wife.
Of that, Primaflora knew nothing; or Tristão Vasquez, whom he might have called uncle; or Diniz, whom he might have called cousin. Nicholas did not enlighten her, or them. Only he gave in to the tempatation, now and then, to talk to the boy, who had lost some of his jealousy, since the exchanges between Nicholas and the lady Primaflora were so markedly formal. The lady travelled in state, as befitted her rank as Queen’s lady of honour, and spoke as often to Diniz as she did to anyone else. It amused Nicholas, although the locked door of her quarters did not. She knew how to tantalise. He ended, for his own sake, by avoiding her.
The boy’s company was almost as testing, since Nicholas had to make his way with such care. He had guessed already the bond between the high-bred, reticent father and the lad only now out of the schoolroom. He didn’t ask about the boy’s mother Lucia, but stored the fragments he learned. He knew she had been put early to royal service and had assumed her more worldly, he saw, than she was. Tristão Vasquez had rescued his wife from a duty she hated, and had given her peace and a tranquil family life away from her wild brother Simon and their domineering father, de Ribérac. The boy would have continued, but suddenly Nicholas felt like an eavesdropper. He said, ‘Sometimes strong fathers make wild sons, until they find what it is they want to do. What do you want for the future? To follow your father?’
Diniz was not to be immediately diverted. He said, ‘My uncle Simon is not very wise. My father blames his father, as you do. Also, he has a very young bride who cannot control him. My mother says his conduct with other men’s wives is nothing short of disgraceful.’
Simon’s wife Katelina was twenty-two, and some months older than Nicholas. Poor Katelina. Poor Katelina, who wanted to ruin Nicholas quite as much as her husband. Nicholas said, ‘Do you want to stay in the East and serve your company? Some agents do, for experience. After a year or two, there is more to be learned at the centre.’ He stopped himself talking of Bruges. They didn’t know where he came from: Simon must never have mentioned him. They knew his Bank was in Venice, and about Trebizond.
It was about Trebizond that the boy was most curious. In the end, Nicholas briefly explained. ‘You know Constantinople was the capital of a great Byzantine empire, and that it fell to the Turks eight or nine years ago? Trebizond was a Byzantine empire as well, with rulers sprung from the same race. When Constantinople was taken, Trebizond was left exposed to the Turks. It was very rich, because of