The Spring of the Ram - Dorothy Dunnett [33]
“Sit!” said Pagano Doria. “There and there, and be comfortable. And you will take malmsey and ginger? It is freshly drawn from the keg; the ginger, pure. You have your own famous doctor—what need you fear? For of course you do not know me: you wonder if I am malicious. Am I right?”
Swiftly, they were all seated and the difference in height had been banished. Wine was poured and offered and courteously drunk. To Godscalc it tasted as normal. Godscalc said, “You must know I have been told of your appointment.”
Doria smiled. “And I of Messer Niccolò’s. I salute him.”
Nicholas smiled again. “Thank you, my lord. It would seem to explain the damaged galley and the information laid against Master Julius. At any rate, the Milanese ambassador has agreed to see me this afternoon, and he will no doubt wish to send north, to discover whether these acts of subversion are supported by official Genoese policy. Florence, naturally, would be unhappy to think so. And obstructing a Christian army will not commend any kingdom or state to the Pope.”
Godscalc blinked. The sea prince also checked for a moment. Then Doria sprang to his feet and, placing his cup carefully down, laid a light hand on one of Nicholas’s shoulders. He knelt, without removing his hand. Unbidden, Godscalc thought of Tobie when quizzing an imbecile. The Genoese said, “But what is this? My appointment wasn’t confirmed until I came to Florence—I had no reason to damage your ship; I was chaffing your good priest about it. How could I have known it was yours? It belonged to the State. And as for your notary…” He removed his hand and rocked back on his heels, drawing a stool and collecting his wine as he sat on it. Hands clasped round the cup, he shook his head, smiling faintly.
“Did it seem suspicious? I merely met Fra Ludovico in the street, and answered his questions about all my doings. I had been most struck by all I had heard of you, and your company. You do not know how impressed these Florentines are. And he, anxious to know who goes to Trebizond, asked for the names of these eminent men. I fear it was no fault of mine that he recognised that of Master Julius. He had met him before in unhappier times. When I realised it, I was sorry, but there was nothing I could do. Either the man would be vindicated, or a weak link in your great company would be cut away. I could not see great harm being done.”
“But you were not surprised by our visit,” said Nicholas.
“No,” said Pagano Doria. “Wise men make due enquiries before they reach conclusions. I thought you might come. But Father Godscalc I knew for a good man, who treats his fellow-men generously. I should say to him, by the way—Father: keep no secrets on my behalf. I have taken my leave of the lady, who has confessed to her husband. Tell Messer Niccolò what you wish. A man like Messer Niccolò is no stranger to the lovely dilemma, when beauty swears she will die unless you give her your favours.”
The wine was pure, but it was extremely strong. Through a faint haze, Father Godscalc saw Pagano Doria smile at the younger man, and heard Nicholas say, “I must not, of course, contradict what you say under your roof. As a man happily married, however, my only concern must be my wife’s present and future well-being. The ambassador will find you here if he wishes to question you?”
Again, the threat. And now the priest was sure that the sea prince was disturbed by it. But why? The Milanese envoy lodged with the Medici, but that was simply a mark of the unspoken alliance between the old man Cosimo and the Duke of Milan. And Milan itself had an interest in neighbouring Genoa, whose turbulent citizens