Scales of Gold - Dorothy Dunnett [249]
He said, ‘I brought with me the greatest magician in Europe, but what I dreamed is impossible. It is too soon; there is too much against us; it is the waste of a life.’
‘You have decided,’ said Nicholas. He felt pain, but was too weary to consider where it came from. He said, ‘You had so many motives, Umar. You wanted Father Godscalc to see the plight of the slaves, and how that traffic might worsen. You wanted us both to find that the way to Ethiopia was impossible, the tribes far from conversion. You wanted me to find the gold that would free me from responsibilities, and yet not find its source. You wanted us to discover the futility of founding stations in the interior, of attempting trade between the coast and this place. You wanted my help, but you wanted Timbuktu to remain untouched, sacrosanct, a shrine of learning, a repository of the world’s wisdom, forever fuelled by its trade, but safe from the Christian armies of Europe.’
He stopped. ‘I saw that. You must have realised it. I agreed. I stayed.’
‘Yes,’ said Umar. He raised his hands and held Nicholas at arms’ length, a blistered palm on each shoulder. ‘As we once said, we did not confide in each other; but you stayed. Why, Nicholas?’ His hands tightened, then dropped.
Nicholas sat. He didn’t say, ‘For your sake,’ for that was not what Umar wished him to say, and it was not really true. He said, ‘I thought I told you. I agreed with what you were trying to do.’
Umar sat also, but not close. He said, ‘You saw what I wished for the city.’
‘And what you wanted for me,’ Nicholas said. ‘You have large ambitions, Umar. You wished to save the magician, as well. A shrine of learning, a repository of wisdom, safe from the corruption of Europe. You have brought me here to be shriven. I am willing to think you have succeeded.’
‘No!’ said Umar, and rose. A child cried out somewhere, and he moderated his voice. He had begun to pace back and forth. He said, ‘I have begun to see that I was wrong. Tonight, I knew it. Timbuktu is no more a haven to you than Trebizond, or Urbino, or the studios of the Florentines would be. Timbuktu is threatened like others with dangers, and yet is as a child among others, a child which will be none the better, Nicholas, if its guardian is wise, and sensitive to the awfulness of his burden.’
He turned, and a tear had melted the cream on one cheek and ran white down to his mouth. He said, ‘Timbuktu requires a guardian of its own kind, who is strong, and lives for the day, and does not torture himself over the choice between a book and a woman. I was wrong,’ Umar repeated. ‘You should not be here. You should go home.’
‘Because of one fire?’ Nicholas said. ‘Because of Akil? Because of the Songhai? I, who have dealt, for God’s sake, with Marietta of Patras?’
‘Stop,’ said Umar.
Nicholas stopped. He said, at length, ‘You would send me back? You think it would be better than this?’
‘I have changed my mind,’ Umar said.
‘Then,’ said Nicholas, ‘would you come with me? With Zuhra, the children?’
‘This is my home,’ Umar said.
Nicholas got up. ‘Then to hell with you, Umar,’ he said. ‘You tell me to my face how you tricked me, used me, manipulated my life the way you believed it should go. You didn’t discuss it with me because – what was the phrase – I wasn’t yet a grown man. You are not discussing it now. I hear an announcement, that’s all. I have made a mistake. I am sorry. Goodbye.’
‘No,’ said Umar. The track of the single tear showed, but no others.
‘Yes!’ said Nicholas. ‘And I, too, see no need to discuss it.’ He walked to the door, and thrust it ajar. ‘You chose to bring me,’ he said. ‘Now I choose to stay. Go to your own room and sleep. I want some rest without you.’
He expected Umar to argue. Instead, the other man hesitated, and then bowed his head and walked out. Even in misery he looked magnificent.
Nicholas sat. After a while, he found he had covered his face.
The next day, at the Timbuktu-Koy’s palace, Nicholas expounded his plans for the rebuilding of the burned quarter of the city, and for an elaborate project,