The Spring of the Ram - Dorothy Dunnett [31]
“It’s why we are being allowed to go east,” Nicholas said. “If we survive, so much the better. If not, the Medici will be seen to have launched a token crusade. The Pope can’t then dun them for anything.”
“I’d worked that out,” said Tobie. “What are my chances of coming back?”
“The same as mine,” Nicholas said. “Better.”
“I suppose so,” said Tobie. “You’re the Florentine consul and head of the first, tender offshoot of the Charetty company. Pick you off, and anyone with a grudge knows that the rest of us will pack and go home. That is, I certainly will. Julius might come over stubborn.”
“And you, father?” said Nicholas.
Godscalc considered. “I suppose I’d have to stay so that Julius could confide in me. Does nobody want to know about Pagano Doria?”
“No,” said Tobie. “World’s full of Dorias.”
Godscalc said, “This isn’t one of the main branch.”
Nicholas said, “How did you meet him?”
Godscalc watched Tobie’s eyes close. “I saw his round ship in Porto Pisano,” he said. “It had the new rig, which was interesting; and so was its cargo. Hides and French wine and Spanish wool. It had just made a short stop at Genoa, and was supposed to be planning a trip east at Candlemas. The ship’s name was Doria.”
“And you remembered,” said Nicholas, “that long ago a Doria was consul in Trebizond. Another of them refused the same job quite recently.”
“I knew they had interests all over the Levant. I was curious. I walked round the harbour and discovered something else. There was talk about an old galley the Medici had ordered to be warped up to Pisa for refitting. They wondered what fools of merchants were buying it.”
“Us,” said Nicholas.
“Of course. My lord Cosimo’s elaborate debate was just a performance. That is, the farmuk was brilliant, but you didn’t need it. The bank had got the galley in readiness. They intended us to go to Trebizond from the beginning. The only person who could have stopped them was Fra Ludovico.”
“With the help of the inventive Messer Pagano,” Nicholas said. “Did he want to stop us, or delay us, or merely remind us of our lowly station? Did you talk to him?”
“At Pisa,” said the priest. “It was he who caused the accident to the ship. Minor damage, but it could have been worse, and we got it cheap in the long run because of it. I don’t know. I had the feeling that he knew who the galley was meant for. The wharfmen at Porto Pisano possibly told him some gossip. I even had the feeling he already knew who employed me, although I don’t know how that came about. But his attitude was not…threatening.”
“What, then?” said Nicholas. The large gaze, intent, was disconcerting.
Godscalc said, “He is a frivolous man. It’s hard to tell what lies beneath it. Perhaps nothing. In which case he’s all the more dangerous.”
“He is Genoese consul,” said Nicholas. “I would rather hear he was frivolous than think he had the weight of Genoese state policy behind him. Or the support of their merchants in Bruges.”
“The Genoese merchants in Bruges? I thought Anselm Adorne was your friend.”
Nicholas said, “He is also a friend of the Dorias. I wish I knew more. I will know more.”
“How?” said Godscalc. Tobie had opened an eye.
“By asking Pagano Doria. He’s in Florence. You know him. I’ll call on him tomorrow.”
Father Godscalc, whose study was mankind in undress, was extremely content, the following morning, to set out with his precocious master to visit the amiable, amorous sea prince of his Pisa encounter. They left Julius in bed. Tobie, who had exhibited a strongly casual interest, had been dissuaded from coming. The degree of Tobie’s fascination with Nicholas sometimes grated on Godscalc.
On the walk through the town, Godscalc imparted what he knew of those fertile Genoese the Doria who were able, two centuries since, to field two hundred and fifty kinsfolk in any one battle. The family owned prodigious property, had interests in banking; had produced great seamen, admirals, army commanders.
Godscalc said, “This particular Doria we are visiting is not responsible to any