The Spring of the Ram - Dorothy Dunnett [282]
“A great man; your friend I make no doubt. The lord Nicholai Giorgio de’ Acciajuoli.”
The Greek with the wooden leg. The oracle who had not joined the Argo; but had sent it on its way with a calmness one could never forgive; for calmness was something one did not have any more; or freedom. Nicholas said, “Is he here?”
“He is here, and asked if you would call on him before you sup with me. He has letters for you. They came to him, and not to me. He is where you found him before. I will send an escort with you.”
“No,” Nicholas said. “What protection do I need? And I know my way.” Which was not an irony this time; just a lie.
“So,” said the Greek, “it has all been too much for you. Romania has passed away: Romania is conquered. The Bailie has told you the figures at the bottom of your accounting, and you do not want to be responsible for them.”
Nicholai de’ Acciajuoli. He looked the same. A bearded man, no longer young, but with the dark good looks of his Florentine kinsmen which had been striking enough, two years ago on the quayside outside Bruges when the eighteen-year-old apprentice Claes had broken his wooden leg. And which had lost nothing of their command a year later when, still in Bruges, he had introduced Nicholas to Violante of Naxos and launched him on the journey that had taken him to Trebizond. Or here, seven months ago, after the fire on his ship, when the message had travelled to Constantinople which resulted in Doria’s unwanted ceremonial entrance. Nicholai Giorgio de’ Acciajuoli, brother of Zorzi the agent at Constantinople; and kinsman of Laudomia Acciajuoli, who had had the good taste to marry a Medici.
Nicholas said, “They’ve found Tolfa. How fortunate.”
“The best form of defence,” the Greek said. “Yes. Giovanni da Castro has found Tolfa, just as the last alum mine falls under Turkish control. Are you complaining? You did get to Sebinkarahisar? Your round ship is full of alum: the last, untaxed, high-quality alum in the world, which will serve the dyemasters of Europe until the mining of Tolfa begins, under a Medici franchise, with special rights reserved to my brother Zorzi?”
“Who told da Castro where to look?” Nicholas said. “The Bailie, after all, is cousin to Piero Bembo.”
“Prove it,” said the Greek blandly. “At least, the Genoese will get nothing more: you should be glad of it. I hear you wrested the child from her abductor. A hero, if a hesitant one. Faced with the lord Doria, her mother, yourself, could you not have selected her protector seven months ago, and saved a great deal of trouble? A rehearsal for Trebizond. I began to think I should die of old age before you made your decision. A decadent emperor; an undeveloped Turcoman leader; an Ottoman chief who is bent on conquering Asia and Europe. Could you not see what would happen?”
“Not as clearly as the Venetians did,” Nicholas said. “They didn’t want to risk their ships in the Black Sea, and they knew they couldn’t hold off the Turks or the Turcomans, so they chose someone expendable to handle it. I must admit,” he added, “I was thrown off the scent by the Great Church and its chorus. Who is great like our God? You are the God who performs miracles. They prayed to the Immaculate God in Holy Travail on the very spot where the Sultan is now praying; and the nightingale…”
“Sang for them both,” said the Greek. “Emulate the nightingale. Sing. You are alive; and Doria is dead.”
“Shouldn’t he be alive?” Nicholas said. “He was only playing a game.”
The Greek said, “You speak as if you blame me.”
“I do,” said Nicholas. “Oh, the ultimate blame was mine. A team needs conflict to mould it, and I encouraged mine to perceive Doria as a natural enemy. He responded. I didn’t stop them. He was drawn beyond his ability, and it destroyed his marriage as well. Without me, Catherine would be happy today. Without you.”
“Explain,” said the Greek.
“I don’t think I shall trouble,” said Nicholas. “I was told you had a letter for me.”
“Explain,” said the other man calmly.
“What is there you don’t know?” said Nicholas. “I was brought