Scales of Gold - Dorothy Dunnett [17]
‘Which says what?’ Gregorio said.
‘Wouldn’t you prefer to read it?’ said Nicholas, appearing briskly. He tossed the paper, open, towards Gregorio, who caught it just before it reached the canal.
Nicholas said, ‘It’s not very newsy. It gives me two options. I can remain here and die a bankrupt poltroon, killer of women and gentlefolk. Or, if I wish to call myself a man, I am invited to pursue my lord Simon in his various homes and places of business and be prepared to meet my match in both areas. It doesn’t sound very enticing.’
He had paraphrased the letter which was, as he said, very short. He had omitted the third accusation made against him. Julius saw Gregorio, reading, halt at the relevant passage. Nicholas, he realised, was watching him. Loppe, who had also arrived, plainly dressed, had walked to the wharf. Julius said, in some discomfort, ‘You see, death isn’t enough. He wants to ruin you. He says you set out to subvert his company.’
‘Well, of course,’ Nicholas said. ‘He sent his entire family to dismantle mine. Isn’t that the whole object of being in business?’ Gregorio folded the letter and Nicholas took it back, displaying a smile and both dimples.
‘So what are you going to do?’ Julius said.
‘Go to Murano,’ Nicholas said. ‘I haven’t got a ship that can go anywhere else. Julius, get the girl, will you? I haven’t time to wait about till it’s dark.’
They embarked as soon as Tilde came, studiously composed. Reared in Bruges, she was accustomed to water. She stepped down beside Julius into the Bank’s big lagoon boat, while Nicholas and Loppe took their seats. Gregorio, jumping down, spoke to the oarsmen, who wore the Bank’s livery. Beside them were two men-at-arms bearing the Lion of St Mark on their breastplates.
It occurred to Julius that it might have been wiser to take Tilde straight back to the Martelli-Medici palazzo. On the other hand, he liked being active. It had been dull in some ways, in Bruges. It had been dull, to be candid, without Nicholas. He liked pitting his wits against Nicholas. He felt pleased, among all these Italian manipulators, to have a good Flemish card up his sleeve.
Chapter 3
COOL AND PLACID, home to waterfowl and the drifting vessels of fishermen, the lagoon of Venice filled the shallow, sandy miles between the city and the head of the gulf on which it lay. Of all the green islands on its milky surface, only one was nearer to Venice than the five slips of land that made up Murano. Which was a pity, because even an hour away over the water, the air was still filled with the din of a city going to war and, in the morning, the sea was as busy as the Grand Canal with boats going to market, bearing their fish and their produce to feed the overstuffed, overwrought Serenissima.
Now the traffic was thin, although the soldiers stayed alert, and Loppe’s vigilance, Gregorio noted, never flagged. Tilde, remembered as a girl of some fortitude, had nevertheless moved close to Julius. Nicholas, his gaze on the sea, paid no attention to anyone.
It had been foolish of Julius to let the girl come, and wrong of Nicholas to encourage it. Julius, in Gregorio’s view, was a competent Bologna-trained notary with a cast of mind which led him too often into pointless adventure. He had been, no doubt, an excellent and comradely mentor to the Charetty young, including Nicholas in his subservient youth. He still entertained, Gregorio thought, a delusion of ascendancy over Nicholas which Nicholas had either failed or chosen not to dispel, although, Gregorio supposed, he had some means, in crisis, of making sure that Julius respected his wishes.
Compared with Julius, Gregorio had little shared background with Nicholas: had seen none of his boyhood; had never fought with him; had never taken part in his bizarre escapades overseas. But he had looked after the Charetty business in Bruges when Nicholas was abroad, and his wife still alive, with young