Scales of Gold - Dorothy Dunnett [227]
The men looked at one another.
‘Also,’ she said, ‘there’s a faint glimmer – a wee glisk of a chance, is there not, that yon Ochoa has packed it off somewhere? And if we find it, we keep it, and don’t even lose a quarter to the excellent monarch of Portugal? I’d recommend ye do nothing until the ownership of the Ghost has been proved. Nothing but hunt for it, that’s to say.’
‘She’s right,’ Diniz said. Looking at him, Gregorio wondered again what school Nicholas had sent him to, that produced this toughened, confident man. Diniz said, ‘We’ll need that gold, if the rest of our plans don’t succeed. But meanwhile there’s quite enough to buy the land you want for the quinta, and solve the worst of the problems at Venice. And I have to go to Bruges.’
‘I thought –’ Gregorio said. From what they said, it had seemed all their troubles were over.
‘Instructions,’ Diniz said, smiling. ‘Twenty-five pages of them, written in letters of iron by Nicholas. I told you, we found no gold on the Joliba, and all we could bring was the moderate amount they had in store in the city. However, it pays to exaggerate.’
‘But there is more coming?’ Gregorio said. ‘Nicholas is setting out with the rest in the autumn?’
‘That is what we are saying,’ said Diniz. The smile had gone, so that the lines of strain and privation could be seen again. Whatever the school had been, Crackbene also had known it.
‘But it isn’t true?’ said Gregorio sharply. They had talked of Nicholas; of Godscalc’s work with King Gnumi; of the large, busy city they had discovered on the edge of the desert, into which Gelis had settled without apparent discomfort. He had deduced, without much time to consider it, that Nicholas had made his peace with the girl, and was glad. So long as it didn’t go further. With Nicholas, one never knew. It worried him, that Gelis had stayed.
It worried him, also, that Loppe had brought them to Timbuktu so indirectly, concealing his interest, and leading Raffaelo Doria, there was no doubt, to his death. Most of all, it worried him that there might be some doubt about Nicholas. Not because of the gold, but in terms of his safety. He realised that silence had fallen. Behind several doors, a child was screaming in temper.
Bel said, ‘There will be a fortune in gold. We saw the salt come in, and Nicholas has arranged to buy most of what it fetches. So far as the world is concerned, he is waiting for it in Timbuktu, and will take it to Cantor to board the Niccolò in December. If he doesn’t do it, Gelis will. That’s why she stayed.’
‘Why shouldn’t he do it?’ Gregorio asked.
‘Because he has gone to keep his promise to Godscalc. He and the padre have gone to try and reach Prester John,’ Diniz said. ‘They know now it’s all but impossible. They know it’s further than anyone thought, and ten times as difficult, but they’ve gone. I don’t see that either of them will live to come back.’
The door opened then. Gregorio paid no attention, his eyes fixed on the other man. It was Bel who said, ‘Well, well: and who needs a trumpet with Henry de St Pol in the house? What ails my little man now?’
Children, to Gregorio, were an unknown country. He had supposed, over the last couple of days, that all behaved as this one did; and especially a child born of such a man as Simon de St Pol and such a wilful young woman as Katelina. A lover of beauty, he found himself distracted, yet again, by the child’s glorious hair, curling and yellow as corn; the open, dense blue of the eyes, the perfect lips, the carnation of the round, silken cheeks. In one of them was a dimple.
He said, ‘What is it, Henry?’ and then remembered, belatedly, who Diniz was, and that the two had not so far encountered each other. He said, ‘Henry, this is Diniz, your cousin.’
The screeching stopped. The blue eyes narrowed. ‘No,’ said Henry. ‘That’s a man. That’s his mother. His mother is Bel, my aunt Lucia’s servant. I have a nice coat. I have a sword and a dagger and a horse and three dogs. That man is dirty, and so is his mother.’
Below the suntan, Diniz had become very pale. Gregorio knelt. He