Scales of Gold - Dorothy Dunnett [198]
The parcel he took out was thick, and rolled many times in waxed cloth, and then sewn. It was addressed, in unknown writing, to Niccolò. The commander, God rot him, took and held it. ‘You were expecting some goods? Jewels, perhaps? There is a tax due.’
‘These are only letters,’ Diniz said. It was obvious.
‘I do not doubt you are right,’ said Akil ag Malwal. ‘But it is easy to prove. Open it.’
There was nothing Diniz could do. Akil could read. With what languages would he be familiar? None, surely, but for Arabic in its various dialects. He would not know Portuguese, or Spanish or Tuscan, but there might be scholars in the Sankore who had lived in Europe. The only safe language to hope for was Flemish.
The packet was untied and fell open. The contents ran to many pages, written over and crossed. The language was Flemish.
Diniz Vasquez belonged to a family intimately connected with Bruges, and from childhood had been taught that tongue among others. He read the first words and felt the blood leave his stomach. The commander Akil said, ‘Why did I doubt it? There is nothing here but a letter. It contains good news, I trust. Your sisters have had sons in your absence, your property flourishes, your lord has granted you many and valuable offices? I see by your face it is good news. I send you homeward rejoicing. May Allah bless you.’
‘May God shorten your life,’ Diniz said. He said it in Flemish.
Nicholas was not there when, breathing hoarsely, Diniz strode into the house, and neither were Godscalc and the women. A message had come from Umar ibn Muhammad, supplicating their presence at his betrothal feast. The house of Umar’s cousins, where he lived, was to the north, in the quarter he had just left. Diniz remounted and fled there.
He hadn’t changed his attire. He was made aware of it as soon as he was admitted through the great doors and led through corridors to the courtyard, hung with silks and lit with sweet fuming lamps, where Umar’s remote, vestigial family were holding festival in honour of his betrothal.
Umar himself came out to greet him, tall and shining and black and dressed in crimson damask collared with gold. He said, ‘I am so happy. They said you had gone, and I was concerned for you.’
Diniz said, ‘I am sorry.’
His voice, it seemed, was enough. Lopez – Umar – said, ‘You have news. It is bad?’
‘Nothing to disturb you,’ said Diniz. ‘A letter for Nicholas. I am sorry. I meant only that I should have come sooner.’
‘What letter?’ said Umar. ‘Wait. I shall call Nicholas.’
‘No!’ Diniz said, but too late. He stood under the arch, looking upon shifting colours and flowers and light, and listening to music and laughter. Nicholas said, ‘What is it?’ Umar was behind him, and Godscalc and Gelis.
Diniz said, ‘I have a letter for you from Gregorio. It came with the caravan.’
‘You have read it?’ Nicholas said.
For once, he was too desperate to be frightened of Nicholas. Diniz said, ‘Akil made me open it, but couldn’t make out the Flemish.’
‘But you did. Who is dead?’ Nicholas said.
‘No one. No one’s dead,’ said Diniz in anguish. ‘Nicholas, we’ve lost the Ghost and everything in her.’
As if rubbed with a slicker, the face of Nicholas became smooth: smooth as a mud wall in rain. Then he said, ‘I understand. Well, nothing we can do now will change it, and there is something here much more important. You see the exquisite young lady over there? She is Zuhra, Umar’s future wife. Come. Come quickly.’
Umar said, ‘Nicholas!’ in distress, and then fell silent. Nicholas put his hand on his shoulder. ‘There will be time later,’ he said.
The girl was exquisite. Her ears and neck were circled with gold; her robe was the colour of soap films. Black and shining and slender, she had the same stout-boned face as Umar, the straight nose and large eyes and pretty lips that were part Arab, part Negro, part Berber. If not a full cousin, she was of his house, it was certain. Diniz kissed her, as was the custom, and made himself known to those relatives he had already met, and to those who were strangers. He ate, and drank, and