Race of Scorpions - Dorothy Dunnett [92]
She was listened to. She was a van Borselen, of a family connected with royalty and with the counsellors of Duke Philip of Burgundy. Her husband had business in Genoa, in Scotland, in Portugal. He was also the son of Jordan de Ribérac, France’s foremost financial adviser. So the Queen and the Grand Master heard her, and asked questions, and appeared much disappointed. The army of Nicholas, under its captain Astorre, was put into custody until its future should be decided. Katelina found a place for herself among the merchants of Rhodes and had no trouble in pursuing, in the interval, her legitimate business. And in the wind and the rain of a clammy Rhodes winter the court, and the Order, settled to await the arrival – for surely he must arrive – of this subtle apprentice, who had made himself a rich and dangerous trader called Nicholas.
Despite that, the manner of his coming caught Katelina unprepared. Expecting a ship from Kolossi, she joined the other merchants who walked down to the jetty to meet it. It held, as she had hoped, Tristão Vasquez and his young son. She saw the surprise on their faces: they had expected Simon. Waiting for them, she was aware of some excitement; an eddy of movement that spread from ship to shore and rebounded. Tristão, with Portuguese courtliness, would not be hurried through the niceties of his greetings and enquiries. The boy, bursting with news, interrupted. They had been boarded; there had been fighting; he had been wounded. She let him describe it until, as she listened, a dazzling suspicion was born. She spoke as soon as the boy’s chatter slowed. ‘So, Diniz, you had a Hospitaller on board? With a lady?’
Tristão said, ‘We misled you. Our Samaritan was a lay guest, a young merchant from Flanders. Niccolò vander Poele is his name. He had heard of Simon; it may be you know of him? He is there, still on board.’
He had walked into the trap. Out of arrogance, he had walked into the trap, even believing that Simon was here, waiting for him. And Tristão Vasquez, clearly, hadn’t been told who he was. She said, ‘Diniz. The seigneur in the long robes over there is the Grand Commander of Cyprus. Will you make him my compliments and ask him to join us?’
The boy hesitated, exchanging a glance with his father. ‘Now, if you please,’ said Katelina van Borselen.
The boy left. Tristão Vasquez said, ‘Forgive me. You do know the young man, Senhor Niccolò?’
‘Yes,’ said Katelina. ‘He knew who you were, but it didn’t suit him to say so. You have both been deceived.’ Her gaze on the ship, she spoke with a fierceness she kept out of her manner. Nicholas thought Simon was here. Openly or not, he would be sure to be looking for him. And openly, there he was: Nicholas, Claes, immediately marked by his height and a tilt of the head that she remembered. Oh, she remembered it.
Of course, he had been studying her. As she watched, he began to walk forward and, reaching the gangplank, stepped surefooted down it. His face, foolishly agreeable, remained turned towards her, half obscured by a large furry hat with its brim tilted up at the back. There was a woman, a beautiful woman, walking behind him. Louis de Magnac, led by the boy, approached Katelina looking puzzled. ‘Madame?’
Katelina said, ‘The young man disembarking. That is Niccolò vander Poele. He has come on a ship of the Order, I cannot understand how.’
The Grand Commander of Cyprus turned, surveying the subject. ‘Nor can I. I know nothing of this. I shall warn the Palace. Can you delay him?’
‘Probably not. You will need some excuse. And some men-at-arms. Is the Treasurer free?’
The Commander was already speaking to