Scales of Gold - Dorothy Dunnett [122]
‘Is that all he said?’ asked Gelis, the smile risen to her eyes. Curtseying in graceful retreat, she repeated his words in Jalofo and was pulled down among the circle of women next to Bel of Cuthilgurdy. The factor hesitated. ‘I wouldna press the point,’ said Mistress Bel. ‘Or if you’re dead keen, the wee lass Tati can tell ye the words in Italian. On the other hand, I hardly know the words in Italian myself, and I wouldna want to hear them while I was eating. You should hear what the wives want to do with Master Nicholas.’
‘Where is he?’ Diniz leaned forward.
Mistress Bel turned. ‘Oh, you’re there? Man, you’ll be lucky to leave here with your clothes on. He’s just coming aboard. Oh, dear, dear, dear. There he is, with the commander. Maybe they’ll take to one another.’ The girl Tati dumped a bowl of food on the carpet and stalked off to get more. The wives laughed and called after her in Jalofo, and she glanced at them scornfully. Diniz looked up at Nicholas.
He was alone. Diniz had already seen that Godscalc was not there, or Jorge da Silves, or the comito, or any of those who had left at dawn to accompany Nicholas and the factor to the home of the King. Moreover, the barges now tied up to the Fortado were not laden with gold. Diniz wondered, absently, what the wives of the King had wanted to do with Nicholas and, more to the point, what the commander would do, if he recognised him.
‘We have not met,’ said Raffaelo Doria, smiling with stony eyes at the Flemish Knight of the Sword. ‘But you knew my cousin, I think.’
Nicholas looked rather hot, but not unhappy. Below the frenzied margin of hair, his eyes were as grotesque as the blackamoors’ and his dimples rebellious. ‘I have no doubt,’ he said, ‘that she was charming. Do you have many wives?’
‘The usual number of one,’ said the commander. ‘There are different customs here.’
‘That’s it,’ said Nicholas, with evident relief. ‘The wives have brought him, you see. Representing the other three dozen. They want an aphrodisiac for him. I do hope you have something. Although I’m sure the King would like to trade on his own account. We left you some pepper.’
‘You left –’ said Doria. Visibly, he collected himself. ‘You have already traded?’
‘The factor guided us to the market,’ Nicholas said. ‘After all, none of us knew you were coming, and the King prefers to barter at home. It was really quite profitable. Three mule-loads of extremely fine gold.’
Diniz gasped. Three mule-loads was an impossible quantity. Three mule-loads represented all a depot could collect in six months. ‘And the gold is already aboard?’ Doria asked. His voice was not entirely natural.
‘You haven’t watched? You surprise me. No. Unlike you,’ Nicholas said, ‘we are not entirely committed to Mammon. Our priest wished to exercise his sacred calling. We have left him to come with the merchandise later. It was word of your arrival that spurred the King and the factor to leave … I see you have my young guests on board. And Michael Crackbene.’
Diniz saw Crackbene turn. He said, ‘Monseigneur,’ dryly to Nicholas.
‘Surely not,’ Nicholas said. ‘A title better kept for the Vatachino, or the Lomellini, or the family St Pol. You have enough on your hands. Diniz, demoiselle, Mistress Bel: we should leave.’
Bel of Cuthilgurdy got to her feet, with the prodding help of two charming black wives. ‘Oh dear,’ she said. ‘I’ve got all these packets. Ye wouldna credit the great bales of cloth that they’ve got in the hold.’
‘The King will be delighted to hear it,’ said Nicholas. ‘As I said, we arranged