Scales of Gold - Dorothy Dunnett [117]
‘No, I wouldn’t,’ said Nicholas. ‘It would be cruel past bearing. But if they’re still about when the Fortado arrives, some may be recaptured and auctioned by the Jalofos. Do we buy them in a second time, or do we let them go to the Fortado for a Christian employer in Portugal? I’ll do whatever you say. There are three girls and an eight-year-old boy with no skin on. Lázaro thought he could rub the black off.’
‘Nicholas,’ Godscalc said.
‘You don’t have to stop him,’ said Gelis. ‘I tore his hand, and I haven’t apologised. Nor am I going to. Yes. If they’re recaptured, I think the Fortado should have them.’
‘Diniz?’ said Nicholas.
‘She doesn’t mean it. She’s thinking it over,’ said Diniz.
Godscalc looked at him, seeing to his surprise the soldier whom Nicholas had found, fighting at Ceuta. Perhaps Gelis van Borselen saw the same thing. There was a moment of stillness. Then she said, ‘You’re right. I don’t mean it. It is too late for that.’
‘It’s for you to say,’ Nicholas said. ‘And for me to buy them, of course. You thought Mistress Bel might open her purse-strings.’ It was impossible to tell whether he was surprised or annoyed or simply weary. All you could say was that he had been sufficiently moved to uproot the whole situation and throw it into their faces. Soon after that, the girl went below.
The remaining time was spent devising a plan. The Fortado sailed like a bird but, failing disaster, would reach the Senagana half a day after them. They nearly had a disaster: striking blind into a circus of dolphins driving a shoal of yellow mullet on shore. The rudder kicked and, heavy as she was, the caravel rocked before she fought her way through without damage. ‘It happens here,’ Jorge said. ‘The mullet spawn: the heathens call in the dolphins to help them.’
‘Call the dolphins?’ said Bel. ‘By name, or do they come in by numbers?’
‘The fishermen smack the water with the flat of their paddles, and the dolphin respond. Let us hope the Fortado also has trouble,’ Jorge said. He knew the coast. He had not ranged the seas in the manner of Ochoa, until his joints swelled and his gums released the stumps of his teeth; but he knew what to expect from the Senagana. Except at time of flood, nothing could traverse the bars of the great double estuary. The factor’s mud house, reports said, had been hastily built on an island; the Niccolò, anchoring outside the river, a mile wide at its mouth, would send a party ashore and, according to the factor’s advice, land their cargo and find their way to the market.
There were no warehouses as yet in Senagana. The trading was done away from the coast, as in Ca’ da Mosta’s time ten years before, at a village of the Jalofo King of the region. Nicholas and Jorge would lead, with the first mate and Godscalc and Loppe. And, naturally, the groom for the horses.
‘And me,’ said Diniz.
‘If you wish, of course,’ Nicholas said. ‘But that would leave the ladies alone on the Niccolò when Mick Crackbene comes in. I thought you wanted to meet Mick Crackbene again. You might get yourself invited on board the Fortado.’
‘So I might,’ said Diniz slowly; and gave a laugh that caused Father Godscalc to look at Nicholas sharply. But Nicholas merely looked stupid.
Chapter 18
HALFWAY THROUGH the next morning, when the heat had driven everyone except the lookout under awnings, the Portuguese caravel Fortado furled her mainsail and bumped through the currents to drop anchor beside her pristine twin the San Niccolò, rocking sleepily off the African coast at the swampy mouth of the Senagana river. The surf-boats which had earlier surrounded the latter, obedient as dolphins, reappeared lurching over the breakers to greet the latest arrival with struggling chickens and baskets of pepper and catches of mullet, and armfuls of black and brown berries.
The oarsmen were of all races, from the half-naked blacks to the brown hazel-eyed Tuareg with their headcloths and skin shirts and breeches. And as the races were mixed, so the landscape showed a mingling