Scales of Gold - Dorothy Dunnett [129]
‘Then how do they sell?’ Godscalc said.
‘You are telling him about the silent trade?’ said Jorge da Silves, joining them unexpectedly. ‘It has been done the same way for hundreds of years. The traders pile their goods on the banks of a river, each pile named for its owner, with a hollow of a certain size made beside it. Then they make a smoke signal, and go back to their boats. When they return, they find no people, but the hollows filled or part-filled with gold. If the gold is sufficient it is taken, and the salt – it is always salt – left for the miners. If not, they retreat again to their boats, upon which the amount of gold is increased. The trade depends on absolute honesty: this timid race, who are never seen, make no effort to make off with the salt until the gold has been removed.’
Diniz said, ‘Of course, you know the story as well.’
‘Of course,’ said Jorge da Silves. ‘And so, naturally, does Senhor Niccolò.’
‘And the Fortado,’ said Father Godscalc.
‘Yes,’ said Jorge da Silves. ‘It is one reason why it is advisable to keep that vessel in sight. We trust she will do her business and turn, but the season is early. She may decide to linger, hoping for more. She may decide to find more for herself. And that is why it is better, Senhor Diniz, to have her ahead rather than following us.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Father Godscalc.
‘Because, padre,’ said Jorge da Silves, ‘they may think that your Lopez has been persuaded to give up the secret.’
On shipboard, the second gathering of the day was at sunset – or perhaps the first, since that was when the new day was deemed to begin. Then the steam rose from the cooking-pots, and dishes of eggs would go round, and maize bread to dip in the stew, and a pail full of oysters, with all the usual hilarity directed at Bel who, in return, would explode like a good-humoured missile. After supper the air became cold and all but those serving the ship turn by turn through the night withdrew behind doors, or between decks, and soon slept.
Until that time, it was hard to find privacy, and what Godscalc wished to say to Nicholas was not for other ears – even those few who understood Flemish. He waited, therefore, until the ship was quiet and the after-deck empty but for Fernão standing stolidly at the helm with one of the boys in attendance.
Nicholas, in fact, elected to climb to the tiller before him, alarming Filipe and causing Loppe, who had been standing unseen in the shadows, to step into Godscalc’s view. Godscalc hung back. He was therefore in the uncomfortable position of hearing Loppe move forward and address Nicholas by name from below.
Nicholas turned, his hair flickering in the light from the binnacle. Loppe said, ‘You don’t want me?’ in Flemish. The helmsman and the boy were both watching.
Nicholas said, ‘Come up.’
Loppe ran up the steps, his skin black on black, and only the vast leather jacket he wore dimly visible. He said, ‘You think I am so easily influenced? There is no need to avoid me.’ He smiled at the helmsman, who smiled back.
‘I suppose not,’ Nicholas said. ‘You are all sons of Adam, as we are.’
Loppe laughed, the sound rumbling softly in his deep chest. He said, ‘Oh, the bitterness! Very well. But I beg to share your apple as well as have you stung by my serpent. I shall not hold it against you if you smile.’
Nicholas stared at him. He said, ‘Jesus son of David, I am preserving your sensibilities, you interfering bloman.’
‘And when the time comes, I shall do whatever I choose. Does that annoy you as much as I hope?’
‘Hosanna to thee, suffering Africa,’ Nicholas said. ‘I don’t know why I listen to you. Especially as someone else seems to be listening too. Behind you. Oh. Father Godscalc?’
‘As you unfortunately see,’ Godscalc said. ‘I was on my way to talk to you also. Probably on the same subject.’
There was a little silence. Then, ‘Oh dear,’ Nicholas said. ‘The two ladies ought to be here; they are extremely adept