Scales of Gold - Dorothy Dunnett [250]
The Qadi, the Katib Musa, the judges lacked John’s skill, but were familiar with ancient sciences, and could bring their intelligence to bear on a problem. The discussion lasted some time, until the Koy grew restless and closed the session. There was to be a public execution of the men who had started the fire. Akil, defiant and sallow, had nevertheless agreed. The Koy was eager to attend it. You could see Akil noting the eagerness.
Umar had attended the meeting and, as he left, fell into step beside Nicholas. They had not spoken that day. Umar said, ‘You had no sleep.’
He had had no sleep, and no energy left to confront Umar. Nicholas said, ‘It seemed best to force an agreement while the fire was in everyone’s minds.’
‘Yes,’ Umar said. ‘They forget easily. Your scheme.’
‘Yes?’ Nicholas said.
Umar said, ‘It is complicated. It is more complicated than the wheels which run the fountains.’
‘But I shall be here to operate it,’ Nicholas said.
‘And after you?’ Umar said.
‘I shall teach. I shall leave notes. Once,’ Nicholas said, ‘you were happy to leave it so. Why despair now?’ They had arrived at his house. He waited. ‘Umar? Do you want to come in?’
He tried, exasperated, to put a real invitation into his voice. But to his relief, Umar shook his head and walked on.
The following night, Nicholas was roused from his sleep gently by anxious, frightened servants. The commander Akil ag Malwal had entered the gates with his troops, and now stood at the door. It was a matter of taxes.
It was a matter, very obviously, of Tuareg reasoning. In the absence of Akil, Nicholas had ingratiated himself with the Timbuktu-Koy. He had strengthened the bodyguard. He had set forth plans for fortifications and safety, as if such a fire could ever happen again. Meanwhile, the commander Akil himself had experienced a sharp drop in income. Being currently at a disadvantage with the Koy, he proposed to extort what he could from the Christian.
Diplomacy was not Akil’s way. Entering, he came to the point. Men had remarked that the city’s guest, the Flemish trader, had paid some minor tax on that part of the gold and ship’s goods he had by him, but yet had engaged in no subsequent trading. Did he intend to continue bringing his ship’s merchandise to Timbuktu? Did he intend to take part in the Sahara trade? Or did he intend to remain as a perpetual resident of the city to which he had come, therefore, under false pretences?
Nicholas had asked the commander to sit and take sherbet, and had seated himself, wrapped in a loose mantle. He had deliberately left his head bare, which was an insult. He resented being awakened.
Nicholas said, ‘I am utterly at fault. I confess the Timbuktu-Koy has failed to renew the permission his father extended during his life and I, humble as I am, have not ventured to ask it. I now see, from what you say, that it would be refused. I am not trading. I desire only the privilege of living in your great city and perhaps serving it. At my own expense. At my own expense, I must insist to you.’
‘The Timbuktu-Koy is not his father,’ Akil said. ‘He takes advice from his men of religion. They may suggest that it is evil to harbour a non-believer. That such a man may be here to subvert both Timbuktu and the Faith.’
Nicholas poured, with grace, from the ewer. He said, ‘Did I harm you last night? Have I ever harmed the city with any action of mine?’
Akil sipped. He said, ‘It is my conviction, of course, that you have not. But you have gold. You are richer than most of those who rightly live in the city. One could say that you are holding your hand; that soon you will use your gold as the other white traders do, to corrupt