The Unicorn Hunt - Dorothy Dunnett [247]
‘Kathi, no,’ the doctor said. ‘It isn’t a competition. We know. We heard his ship was going to Malta, then Sicily. He should be here in ten days. The way things are, they won’t sail further east.’
‘I hope not,’ said Nicholas. ‘There is a considerable wailing and gnashing of teeth in the city. Poor Paul Erizzo.’
John looked at him. Up till then, he had never mentioned the name. Paul Erizzo, Bailie of Negroponte, had been Venetian Consul in Cyprus when he and Nicholas and Tobie had been there. Now, long past his tour of duty, he had stayed to lead the defence of Negroponte against Sultan Mehmet.
Tobie said, ‘The news is better today. The Sultan has called on Negroponte to surrender, and Erizzo has told him to go away and eat pork. He’s going to try to hold out. They’ve had some reinforcements from Crete, and Venice has fifty galleys gathering there. If a Venetian fleet got to Euboea in time, they could break the pontoon bridge to the island, strand the Turkish vanguard and prevent the rest of Mehmet’s army arriving. You may be proud of the Ghost and the San Niccolò yet.’
‘I hadn’t heard that,’ Nicholas said. ‘Trust the Genoese to hear all the gossip. And your uncle is coming?’
‘And everyone with him,’ said Katelijne. ‘Can’t you divine people at all? If you can manage silver, can’t you pick out your Gelis? Don’t you have a chart? If I get a chart, will you teach me?’
‘No, he won’t,’ Tobie said. He moderated his voice. He said, ‘Whatever Nicholas does is his business. This is not something for you.’
‘Then it shouldn’t be for M. de Fleury,’ she said.
‘You convince him,’ said Tobie. ‘Anyway we’ve proved it already. A Genoese in a fast boat from Tunis can tell us more about your uncle’s ship than a conjurer. Nicholas, it’s taken on African passengers. When they arrive, they’ll have someone with them.’
A leaf fell. Nicholas picked it up. Tobie swore suddenly. He said, ‘Not … No.’
Nicholas looked up. ‘So, who?’ he said.
Tobie had changed colour. John saw the girl considering him, her hands very still. Tobie said curtly, ‘But he might bring news. It’s Benedetto Dei, the Florentine merchant. He’s been in the interior. And someone who sounds like one of the ibn Said brothers. It can’t be good news, Nicholas.’
No one spoke. Nicholas resumed plaiting slowly. John le Grant wondered if the girl had any idea what had happened to Nicholas in Africa. He himself knew, because Godscalc had told him. Tobie, who had brought Nicholas home, certainly knew. John cleared his throat, and Tobie looked at him. John said, ‘I think you had better stay until the ship comes, hadn’t you, Nicholas? I can go to Damietta on my own. I’ve done it often before. Then you can join me.’
Nicholas continued with what he was doing, but a prosaic dimple formed and vanished in one cheek. It signified, without speech, that he knew exactly what John was trying to prevent him from doing.
Katelijne said, ‘Didn’t you mean to stay till the ship came?’ She looked perplexed.
Nicholas said, ‘Well, what do you think? Only business is business, and we thought for a while we should have to sort something out at Damietta. But John can go and I’ll stay.’ He laid down his knife and, placing the piece of weaving on the floor, began to gather the cuttings. ‘So what about you, Katelijne? What will you do when the good Baron Cortachy comes? Show him Alexandria? Are you going with him to the Holy Land?’ He was looking at Tobie.
Tobie, unusually, got in an answer before she did. ‘No, she isn’t,’ he said. ‘That is, she’ll spend some time with them all in Alexandria, and travel as far as the Garden of Balm, if you know where that is. Her uncle wants her to bathe in the pool. Then she’ll come back here and stay at the fondaco until her uncle has finished his pilgrimage. Am I right?’
She was amused. She said, ‘Did we give any secrets away?’
Tobie went pink and then laughed. He said, ‘Never trust the opposition.’
She said, ‘But he isn’t the opposition, he’s your friend, isn’t he?’
Tobie and Nicholas looked at each other. Then Nicholas