• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

By Root 2887 0

up the straight, classical streets cluttered with Levantine, non-classical buildings. They had parted from Katelina and her kinsmen on the jetty. Nicholas carried with him the black, furious gaze of the boy Diniz. Well: he had known that was going to happen. Tristão Vasquez had said nothing more, but he owed Vasquez something for what intervention he had made. He would make none in the future, that was certain. And Katelina? She had been nineteen when they first met; fresh from breaking out of an unwanted betrothal; at odds with her parents; at odds with the masculine world. Now she was Simon’s wife and a mother, but only three years had passed. What had been abrasive, forthright, childishly vain should not have changed so quickly into a bitter, angular spirit; a face of original beauty now full of repression. Walking down the jetty, Primaflora had said, ‘That is the wife of the beautiful Simon?’

And he had said, ‘She has competition, as you may imagine,’ and left it at that. Primaflora must realise he had no interest in Katelina. It was quite important, indeed, that she should.

At the guest house, he and the girl were placed in separate chambers with an attendant outside each door. Primaflora was allowed her own woman, but he was given only the services of the footman from the Grand Commander’s own household. The attentive services: the negro followed him in with the baggage and then closed and locked the chamber door on the inside. He turned. But for themselves, the chamber was empty. Nicholas said, ‘I can’t believe it. You’d do anything for money.’ He punched the other man’s shoulder, and then stood holding him at arms’ length while they grinned at each other.

The negro called Loppe said, ‘You’ve got to beat M. de Magnac’s prices. What kept you?’

Nicholas pushed him into a seat and himself dropped to the floor, stretching his arms luxuriantly over his head. ‘Never mind what kept me,’ he said. ‘How did you get here? Where are the rest? And what’s happening?’

From slave to friend to major domo of the fondaco at Trebizond, the man called Loppe had grown into the core of the Charetty company; had still been with it when Nicholas had last seen him in Tilde de Charetty’s office in Bruges. From Bruges, it now seemed he had travelled to Venice. And then, keeping apart from Astorre, he had found employment with Louis de Magnac of Cyprus, to whom all news of Cyprus must come. Here, no one who mattered either knew or would remember him: even Katelina van Borselen. Nicholas said, ‘You took a risk, all the same. And porter’s work! You know how you drop things.’ He paused. ‘Did you tell them in Bruges where you were going?’

Loppe rocked his clasped thumbs. ‘I didn’t know where I was going. I asked Master Julius to let me join Master Gregorio’s business in Venice. He didn’t mind. He had enough on his hands with the two girls. Not trouble – they do very well, and Father Godscalc keeps them right, and Ser Adorne.’

‘And Gregorio?’ Nicholas said. Loppe always knew by instinct what he wanted to know.

‘Has set up his Bank, which is going well. Your Bank. He was a trifle anxious. We all were. We didn’t want to be responsible for all your debts.’

‘Then you shouldn’t have taken shares,’ said Nicholas absently. The misfortunes of his arrival had already receded, to be replaced by a twinge of excitement. He said, ‘What you are saying is that I ought to be improving the balance. Well, I shan’t deny I’ve been giving some thought to it. I’ll need some help, unless you’re proposing to porter for life. What do you call yourself?’

The other smiled. ‘Lopez. If you remember, I had Portuguese owners. I don’t expect to serve very long. I may give you orders, later.’

‘Try it,’ said Nicholas. He stretched his legs on the floor. ‘All right. Tell me. About Astorre, Katelina, and the company.’

Loppe said, ‘You did expect her.’

‘I expected Simon,’ he said. ‘But we don’t always get what we want. How did Astorre get into trouble?’

‘Through the lady,’ Loppe said. ‘Captain Astorre was adroit. He came here to seek you, while apparently touting for business.