Scales of Gold - Dorothy Dunnett [99]
The chance came that night after supper, when Gelis left table early, and the master and mate were already on deck, having eaten. The sails were being reduced. Forty miles, Ochoa reckoned, lay between the Ghost and Cape Blanco that evening, and he had no wish to come across it in darkness; already, he was as close to the shore as was prudent. No, he wanted to raise Blanco by first light. Behind Blanco was the greatest gulf on the coast, twenty miles of it. And ten miles beyond that was Arguim.
Alone with Nicholas at the table, Diniz played with his cloying Madeira, and wondered how to begin. He said, ‘The Fortado didn’t catch up.’
‘Did you suppose she would?’ Nicholas said, without looking up. He had come late, and was cutting up meat with precision. Despite an enviable deposit of garments, he inhabited nothing grander on board than hose and shirt and a loose sleeveless pourpoint, although the tags and cords were apt to be gold. His complexion, merely mellowed by sunlight, was saved from daintiness by the scar on one cheek, in the same way that his size was offset by his bearing, and his unthreatening mien by the range of his voice.
His thatch, tousled with salt, would scarcely bed the round cap he crammed on it and ought to have been cut. It was not cut, Diniz conjectured, because tomorrow in truly commonplace guise Nicholas had to smuggle the three of them aboard the San Niccolò, where they were supposed to have been ever since Funchal.
Diniz said, pursuing his point, ‘Ochoa says the Fortado should be a whole day behind us.’ He paused, without really expecting any grateful acknowledgement. ‘He says you must expect a few dead in that sort of skirmish. The men wouldn’t have stood for being fired on. It’s true. I’ve been talking to some of them. I tried to explain how you thought.’
‘I heard,’ Nicholas said. ‘Even the horses have become versed in polemics. I notice that Gelis, too, thought we were on the brink of a mutiny.’
‘Is that why she did it?’ said Diniz.
The door opened. ‘I thought I might be missing a council of war. Did what?’ said Gelis, sitting down.
‘Raised the crew’s hopes,’ Nicholas said. ‘It made me feel very nervous. If you take up soliciting, it makes me expendable.’
‘Why else do you think I did it?’ she said.
She had annoyed Diniz, interrupting. Diniz said, ‘Don’t be silly. Ochoa won’t harm him. At the very least, Ochoa needs him at Arguim. Someone’s got to negotiate for the horses.’
‘Still?’ said Gelis. ‘I thought we were keeping the horses as pets?’
Diniz was not ashamed to speak for the horses. He said, ‘We must land them at Arguim. They can hardly go further and give you a return for their keep.’ He heard Gelis sigh.
‘That,’ said Nicholas, ‘is exactly the point I was hoping to put to you both. It is true you’ve been easy to transport – no kicking, no grooming, no mucking-out – but I have told you before: seriously, this is where it all ends. We should arrive at Arguim about noon, and you should start to pack now. I’m not taking you further.’
Diniz found that Gelis, having sighed, had left him to speak. He said, ‘We argued this out before. The ladies go on shore, but I stay with you on the Niccolò.’ Nicholas sat, his elbows set on the table, and his hands clasped in non-supplication. Over them, his gaze was direct. Diniz added stiffly, ‘That is to say, it’s your ship.’
‘I’m glad someone remembered,’ Nicholas said. ‘Come or not as you please; you’ve been warned. You damage your family name, if you do. And you leave the women endangered.’
‘My family name?’ Diniz said. ‘My family head got the damage. I don’t know who could imagine a friendship between you and me now. As for Gelis, she is a wolf pack in one person. And Bel is as bad.’
‘Thank you,’ said Gelis. She tightened her lips.
Nicholas said, over his undisturbed hands, ‘Then Diniz comes. And