Race of Scorpions - Dorothy Dunnett [87]
Diniz said, ‘I should say, “Who best can protect it from Sultan Mehmet?” ’
‘And who is that?’ Nicholas said. ‘The Pope has to see King Ferrante finally on the throne of Naples, and Malatesta of Rimini finally conquered before he can think of a crusade. The Duke of Burgundy is sick and failing, and fending off Louis of France. France is threatened by England, and England is torn in the war between York and Lancaster. Genoa would take over Cyprus, as a colony. So would Venice. So would Cairo. The only traditional rulers in Cyprus are the Lusignan family, and they are divided: King Zacco supported by Venice and Queen Carlotta by the Genoese. Is it really clear who should rule? Is it really clear who can best fend off the Turks?’
‘You don’t agree it is Carlotta?’ said the boy.
‘I think Carlotta will lose,’ Nicholas said. ‘All I can tell you is that the people of Cyprus won’t win, whatever happens.’
‘Then Zacco or the Turk would be as bad as Carlotta?’ said the boy.
Nicholas smiled across his head at his father. He said, ‘You have a lawyer there. No, they are not equal. I meant that the island has such importance that whoever rules, the land is always a battlefield, and it is the men of the fields and the hamlets who suffer. Nor should I place Sultan Mehmet over a Christian people.’
Tristão Vasquez spoke. ‘But of the other two, you think more highly of Zacco?’
Nicholas said, ‘I didn’t say that. I said I thought that Zacco would win. What, do you suppose, is that vessel?’
The boat was a round ship of unspecified origin which, appearing out of the rain, turned its shining guns broadside and hailed them. Tristão Vasquez, turning, said, ‘I wonder. Trouble?’
‘Surely not,’ Nicholas said, lying flat. The explosion, following the puff of smoke, rattled the rigging. A gush of seawater beat on the deck. ‘But it seems,’ Nicholas said, ‘they want us to do something. Are they Mamelukes?’
The boy said, ‘They are talking Italian. They want to board us. The lady must be protected.’
‘That is true,’ ‘Nicholas said. ‘I shall go and protect her. Do you have valuable baggage?’
‘Yes,’ said Diniz.
‘No,’ said his father. ‘Agricultural specimens, that is all. What are our officers doing? Knights of the Order, submitting?’
‘Only one Knight, and he knows superior fire power when he sees it. He may lose his cargo, but he won’t lose his galley at least. The round ship is boarding.’
‘They want the wine,’ Diniz said. His young mouth sneered.
‘I would rather they had the wine than my blood,’ Nicholas said. ‘Or that of the lady Primaflora. Here they come to open the hatches. Pirates. How do they sniff out their prey?’
Flank to flank, the galley and round ship ground buffers together, held by irons for as long as it took to transfer the cargo. They took the wine, and also the chests that filled all one hold. Diniz said, ‘Are these valuable?’
‘Who knows?’ Nicholas said. ‘Gold thread, or dyed silk, or ducats. The Knights are rich. Nothing worth perishing for. No! Look out!’ His cry followed Diniz, who had burst through the cordon restraining them and run to one of the hatches, exclaiming. As his father attempted to follow, one of the boarders raised a club and struck the boy down. The father shouted.
Nicholas jumped to grasp Tristão Vasquez by the arm. ‘Don’t provoke them. The child will recover. He was brave, but no one can stop them that way.’
The Portuguese strained against his grip, then subsided. The boy lay still. The man who had struck him bent aside and continued to hand out fresh articles from the hold. They consisted now of deep trays, filled with earth and small plants. They passed from hand to hand until they reached the ship’s rail, at which point they were halted by one of the pirates. He peered, snorted, and turned his thumb down. The bearer of the first tray stepped to the side and dropped over his burden. The other trays followed.
The face of Tristão Vasquez was stony. Nicholas said, ‘I’m sorry. That was where you had buried your gold. You would have done better, like me, to make a stomacher