The Spring of the Ram - Dorothy Dunnett [111]
Godscalc said, “When Julius has calmed down, I’ll speak to him. It’s true that the girl is fond of her husband, and he seems to be treating her well. We know he is an adventurer and a charlatan, but would she be the better or worse off for knowing it? And meanwhile she wouldn’t believe it. Nicholas is quite correct. You can’t do anything about the young lady until she herself asks you. Keep open what channels you have—and the princess Violante is one of them. I should like, however, to ask: Nicholas, what do you think Pagano Doria will do? He owes you something already, after the plague. The black wine will demand a riposte.”
“You still think it’s a game?” Tobie said.
“I still think everything he does is a game,” Godscalc said. “Including murder.”
“You said you were sorry for him,” Nicholas said. He had gathered his nose and upper lip in a long, thoughtful pinch. Now he pulled his hand away. “No. A little polite persecution here and there, but nothing serious yet, unless I’m quite wrong. He didn’t burn the ship to destruction. He didn’t betray Astorre’s men, although he was willing to get rid of you, John and Julius. He didn’t kill me in Modon.”
“You sound as if you regret it,” said Godscalc.
“Well, no,” Nicholas said. “Except for all the time I wasted working out possible traps and ways of eluding them. Some of it would have been rather fun. But he didn’t do anything at all that would stop us. He wanted us with our ship in Trebizond because, after all, he’s heir to half the business through Catherine. He can’t touch the business at Bruges while Catherine’s mother is there, but he could take control here without being stopped for a long time. So my guess is that we’ll be allowed to establish our agency and make our profit and stock our warehouse before he does anything. And even then, he won’t do anything that discredits the company or the merchandise.”
Tobie said, “Well, that’s obvious. You’re the one he’s playing against. You’re the one he needs to show up for a dangerous fool.”
“Or cause to have an accident,” said Father Godscalc.
“Maybe,” Nicholas said. “But he’ll discredit me first.”
Tobie’s eyes gleamed, and Nicholas grinned at him. “Go on. How would you set about it?”
Tobie’s pupils became points of conjecture, and his small pink mouth curled. “Exactly what has the lady Violante been teaching you?” he said. His tone was one of the most dulcet enquiry.
“I thought of that,” Nicholas said. “It was when she said I had to crawl away from the throne with my drawers down that I began to suspect her.” He had recovered his placidity. He said, “I’ll check over all I’ve been told with the Florentines, but I’ll be surprised if there’s anything in the least misleading. And from beginning to end she’s been chaperoned. A good sign, on the whole.”
Godscalc said, “Yes. I’d have seen to that, if I were Doria.”
“He may still do. Circassian slaves in my bedroom. Yours, too.”
Tobie’s expression lightened. “We’ll all be corrupted? Proofs of inconceivable depravity? Girls and buggery? Drink and hashish and opium?”
“That’s right. Try it all, but don’t sign anything,” Nicholas said. “Father, your services are held in the Latin style. Could he cause mischief there?”
“If he wants to. We have leave to follow our own practices in the church of our compound. So have Doria and the Venetians. But not elsewhere. We should not discuss or dispute or invite to attend any member of the native Orthodox Church. Of course, if we hold no service at all, we are godless.” He saw Tobie’s eyes were fixed on him. Tobie wanted to know whether Nicholas had ever used the chaplain to make his confession. Once, he had asked him outright. Godscalc had not thought it was his place to answer him.
Nicholas himself was still conning the