The Spring of the Ram - Dorothy Dunnett [110]
Collecting himself, Astorre addressed Nicholas: “So what’s come into your head? There’s no honey in March.”
Tobie was also staring at Nicholas, but with a different expression He said, “Wait a moment. You’ve done it, haven’t you? Whatever it is, you’ve damned well done it without consulting us?”
Nicholas turned his mouth down like a gargoyle. He said, “I’ve made a little arrangement, that’s all. The last night of the trip, a gift of the local black wine will be rowed out to the Doria from the Genoese settlers in Kerasous. Well, apparently from the Genoese settlers. I’m told it’s not too hard to present the patron with one thing and see that the sailors get their share of the rest in his absence. It’ll blow their heads off.”
Captain Astorre threw back his head in a fit of collected laughter. Then he got up and made his way to the door, clapping Nicholas on the shoulder as he went. “Good lad,” he said. “Good lad. I like that. And once get us on shore, and we’ll lift the little lady out of that fellow’s clutches and kill him.” He gave a black-toothed grin round them all and strolled out.
“Well,” said Julius, “that’s silenced the great Nicholas, hasn’t it? I wonder why? Can it possibly be that you’ve forgotten, in all your amusing plans, that young Catherine’s still with that bastard Doria? By God, you’re planning to get your own back, aren’t you? The Doria’s oarsmen will row her in drunk. That’ll show him. He steals the demoiselle’s daughter. He spreads lies about me and Bessarion. He fires your ship, he kills men at Modon. John and I all but lose our lives at Constantinople. And is this all you’re planning to do?”
Where Astorre had addressed (as he often did) a precocious boy, Julius was speaking adult to adult to Nicholas. Nicholas, his face blank, drew breath, but Julius went on before he could utter. He said, “Since that woman came on board, Catherine and the rest of us could go hang. I wouldn’t mind, except that you’re supposed to be leading us.”
Fortunately, they were where they would not be overheard. Fractiousness from Julius was not new, these days. Nicholas, suddenly running short of soft answers, said, “She’s my stepdaughter. Of course I’ve forgotten her.”
Before the silence could develop, Father Godscalc said, “The child’s well-being may well depend on cultivating the lady Violante, Julius. Once Doria has vanished into the Genoese compound, she may be the only ambassadress we shall have. I doubt, from what I have seen of the gentleman, that he will bring his little lady much to court, if at all.”
Nicholas said, with some brevity, “They don’t have wives with them, the merchants. They didn’t in Pera, with very few exceptions. They live with local girls, or their permanent mistresses. Catherine wouldn’t know the difference, so long as she saw some apparent high life. I don’t know which side the lady Violante is on, Julius. But it would be unwise to warn or offend her.”
“That’s your opinion. I’m going to ask her,” said Julius. “If she’s Doria’s whore, and a spy, we ought to know. If she’s merely his whore, she should be as glad as we are to get Catherine away from him.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Tobie said. “If Nicholas can’t tell what she’s up to after three weeks of platonic instruction, she’s damned likely to open her mouth when you walk in and jump on her. That’s what you’re planning, I take it?”
“Platonic instruction?” said Julius.
“Well, Aristotelian and Homeric as well, with a touch of the Livys,” said Nicholas quickly. “When I tell you that the Archimandrite is there for every session, you can imagine the complexity. Or if not, I can draw diagrams for you. Julius, if she’s on Doria’s side it’s best she doesn’t think we suspect her. Don’t you think so?”
Julius, who had also tasted the black Trapezuntine wine, said, “If you say so. I’ve lists to see to,” and got up and went.
Godscalc said, “I think—”
“I know,” said Tobie grimly. “If we don’t watch Master Julius