The Spring of the Ram - Dorothy Dunnett [86]
Nicholas had given Loppe his freedom the previous year. Loppe spoke the languages of all his previous owners and was probably working hard on Hungarian. Julius said, “What do they want?”
Loppe smiled. “To put you in prison, Master Julius. And Master le Grant. He’ll be executed for fighting the Sultan.”
“I haven’t fought the Sultan,” said Julius.
Loppe said, “Well, maybe not. But this letter came from Cardinal Bessarion, addressed to you in the care of Master Nicholas. The Turks have got it.”
Bessarion. From the recesses of his aching head, Julius remembered as if from another world his misdeeds at Bologna, and the need to get Bessarion to vouch for him. He said, “What did it say?”
Loppe said, “It was a friendly letter, Master Julius, so I suppose it was the good news you were waiting for. It talked of telling my lord Cosimo de’ Medici what a fine man you were, and that they could rely on you, wherever you went in the East, to see to it that all men should be encouraged to return into the unity of the Catholic and Universal Church, and spurn the Eastern errors of worship. They think you’re a Latinist spy sent to subvert the Greeks and get them to join a Papal Crusade. They’re going to execute you as well, Master Julius.”
He could never have learned all that in the exchange he had just had. He was giving, Julius realised, the news he had already gleaned from others. He might have more.
“How did they get the letter?” Julius asked.
“It came to the Greek Patriarchate, Messer Julius,” said Loppe. “As you know, they depend on the goodwill of the Sultan. And in any case, the Grand Vizier had heard about you and the Cardinal Bessarion. Tursun Beg is his secretary. He says Pagano Doria had an audience with his master this morning.”
Pagano Doria. And he couldn’t even draw a decent breath to hate him with. Above him, Tobie’s round, light eyes held a warning. He had taken off the fur hat he had put on that morning and his face was a cold-looking lavender. Julius closed his eyes, releasing Loppe from risky conversation and making it easy for the Janissaries to lay hands on him. Nicholas, you bastard. And there was no point in struggling, even if it were possible. He’d only involve the whole crew.
That was when he heard Godscalc’s voice from the water, and opened his eyes. Tobie, who had a better view, was already striving to see over the side. Then he said in Flemish, “They’re both there. Not the girl.”
So he hadn’t even got Catherine. It had been his, Julius’s, place to take the girl back for her mother. They had had bitter words about it. But Nicholas had gone off just the same, and left them to get into this mess, and had done no good in Pera either. Nicholas thought he’d guessed what trick Doria had up his sleeve. But he hadn’t. Above him, Tobie shifted a little.
The Turkish official, also disturbed by the noise, had turned from his prisoners. Stooped to lift them, the Janissaries straightened. After a moment Tursun Beg walked himself to the head of the companionway, and gave an impatient sign for Loppe to join him. Beside Julius, John le Grant opened his eyes, winced, and said, “What?”
Julius said in Flemish, “It’s all gone wrong. They know who you are. They think I’m a dangerous disciple of Bessarion’s. They’ve hardly looked at the ship. They’ll probably impound it, when they’ve executed us.”
The engineer looked at him blearily. Then he said, “I’ve pissed mysel’, God damn it. Where’s Nicholas?”
“Just coming on board,” said Julius with painful bitterness. “What can he do?”
“Jesus Son of David,” said Tobie suddenly from above. His eyes were on the companionway. Twisting a shoulder, Julius tried to lift himself and see what was happening. As he watched, Godscalc stepped up on deck. His cloak was creased, and his hood, fallen back, showed the bristled black tonsure which the church permitted at sea. His attention seemed equally divided between Tursun Beg, to whom Loppe was trying to make him known, and a commotion from