Scales of Gold - Dorothy Dunnett [133]
‘You despise Godscalc,’ she said. ‘And these black people. And Lopez.’
‘I can’t help my humble childhood,’ Nicholas said. ‘And as for Godscalc, I don’t see any harm in paying a modicum for your beliefs and at least buying a hearing. After that, the message either sticks or it doesn’t.’
‘How eloquent. A statement of religious ecstasy, near enough, in terms of dyeyard philosophy,’ Gelis said. ‘So I shall assure Bel that the Pope and Godscalc have your complete and unqualified support. And will you light a candle tomorrow?’ She looked him in the eyes, a thing to beware of. The stone this time sailed past his ear.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow they would reach the southernmost port of their journey. Tomorrow they would arrive at the mouth of the Gambia and confront the Fortado. Or not. Tomorrow the horses ought to be exercised, and the provisions checked, and the arms oiled and prepared, and the slaves supplied and given such directions as might help them. Four were leaving, and two were desirous of sailing with them upriver. ‘Tomorrow?’ said Nicholas.
‘Your Saint’s Day. You hadn’t forgotten?’
He had forgotten. Deliberately forgotten. He became slowly conscious that she was sitting gazing at him, her hand arrested on its way to the bowl. She said in a voice of horror, ‘Katelina died on that day?’
It startled him, that he had allowed the cast of his thinking to show. He said, ‘No, Gelis. No. Other things happened.’
‘And not pleasant ones,’ she said. ‘I can’t say I’m sorry.’
‘No. I am sorry enough for both of us.’ In Lagos, he had tried to initiate this conversation, and perhaps would again, but this was not the time. ‘It’s late,’ he said, but she was still seated, with that shrewd, considering stare. It struck him that their relationship was like that of two disputing men, one young and one older. Even in the grip of such an obsession, her mind had a cold, clear quality which surpassed, for example, anything the boy Diniz had shown. A mathematical mind, like young Tilde.
As if she had again guessed his thoughts Gelis remarked, ‘How old are you then? Twenty-four?’
He shrugged without answering, as the ship kicked. A strong cross-current: where would they be? He saw his lapse of attention strike and sting her.
‘And rich once more, and going to be richer. And powerful. But none of that matters to you as much as the way it happens. You worship duplicity for its own sake. You’ve grown up alone, because it suits you. You don’t have to discuss your real plans with anybody. Last night we ran on a reef. It’s probably the only event since we left Lagos that you haven’t personally set in train. No wonder Godscalc is sick of you.’
Nicholas leaned forward and picked up two oyster shells and a date. ‘No God is absent save Chance. What makes you think I didn’t plan the reef episode too?’ He bit the end of the date and then put it all into his mouth.
‘The way you struck Filipe,’ Gelis said. ‘You lost your temper. How childish.’
‘I wanted a matching pair,’ Nicholas said, displaying a shell in each hand. The half-healed pits of her bite crossed one palm; the cuts of the hour-glass the other. He said, ‘I take it, then, that despite the evident dangers, you have spurned my passionate pleading and intend to stay with the ship? Bel will be surprised.’
‘Arrive in Ethiopia,’ Gelis said, ‘if you really wish to ruin all Bel’s predictions. What are you aiming for?’ The oyster shells, like two blinkers, filled the cavities of either eye, and the date stone stuck in his teeth, primed and canted.
‘That,’ he said; and spat; and heard her exclamation as the stone landed. There was a hiss and a stink of hot oil. He uncovered his eyes and found himself, rather pleased, in total darkness. He had managed to extinguish the lamp. ‘I thought I could