The Spring of the Ram - Dorothy Dunnett [223]
“That,” said Godscalc, “is what I’m afraid of.”
“If it’s sealed off,” said Nicholas, “the Greek and Latin churches will be sealed off inside it. Astorre. It cannot be taken?”
Astorre shook his head. “Any more than Sinope. Not now. And by God, not by the time John and I and the Emperor’s man have finished reinforcing it.”
Nicholas waited. So did Godscalc, his eyes on this child, this changeling who was leading them. Say it. Say it. Be fair and say it. But as with Tobie at Modon, he didn’t; and unlike Tobie, Godscalc did not force him. After a while, when no one had spoken, Nicholas said, “That’s enough, then. John, will you go with the galley?”
Le Grant said, “She’s ready to sail whenever you want her. And while you were away, I did the surveys you wanted. I’ll also leave you a couple of men who are artists, I tell you, in siege defences. Are you going to the Palace?”
“As much as I can. You’d better come with me. We’ve to convince the Emperor to spend money, and to pass on all he hears of the Sultan.”
“And of Uzum Hasan,” Tobie said. “So what will Doria do now? Take the round ship and cross the Black Sea to Caffa? That won’t do him much good if he’s nothing to sell. And if he tries to go home, he’ll run into the Turkish fleet, just as we should.”
Godscalc said, “I thought he did have something to sell.” He waited, but Nicholas failed to look at him.
Tobie said, “What? We’ve ruined him.”
Nicholas said, “No. Godscalc’s right. He has transport to sell. He could evacuate half Trebizond in his cog if he’d time, and take them over to Georgia or Caffa for a swingeing payment per head. It’s a Genoese tradition in these parts. Profit and humanitarianism combined.”
“Then shouldn’t we allow him to do it?” said Godscalc. Tobie sat erect with a bump.
It was John le Grant who said, “We need men. No. It isn’t a large enough city to man the walls day and night. And you need women to serve them, and stiffen them. If ye let them, they’ll melt away. They did it once before. They left an empty city with fifty stricken men in it to hold off the enemy. No. You stop Doria. It wouldn’t be difficult.”
“It isn’t difficult,” Nicholas said. “Well, then. That’s the position. Those are the plans. The figures are on paper. I’ll have them copied. If any one of us drops out, the rest ought to know what to do. Is there anything more?”
Without Julius, there was no one really to challenge the figures. On the rest, what still had to be said didn’t take long. At the end, Patou gathered his notes and they all started to rise. Across the table, Tobie said to Nicholas, “You saw Gregorio’s letter?”
Nicholas, still seated, looked up. The others were leaving. Godscalc stayed, his hand on the back of his tall chair. He knew the letter Tobie was talking about. It had arrived only last week for Nicholas. Thinking him dead, they had opened and decoded it. Written from Bruges in the winter, it contained company news. It also contained, specifically from Gregorio to Nicholas, the most recent scraps of confirmation about Simon’s involvement with Pagano Doria, and Pagano Doria’s with Catherine. It revealed little they and the rest of the company didn’t now know, unless it was the extent of the collusion—or trust—that had existed all these months between Gregorio and Nicholas. It did warn, however, that Marian de Charetty herself for the first time now knew the whole story. She has taken it with courage, Gregorio had said in his letter. From first to last, it was the only personal remark he had made. There was none in the rest of his message. The demoiselle believed redress depended on the validity of the marriage. She proposed to travel to Dijon and Italy to seek out what documentation she could. Gregorio himself was planning to follow her. He hoped to interview my lord Simon