The Unicorn Hunt - Dorothy Dunnett [263]
It was all too clear now what had happened to Nicholas. The only mercy was that Tobie had been there. And bringing the girl had enabled them all to leave Alexandria.
He could not imagine what Nicholas would want to do. He was supposed to be joining John to travel to Sinai. But that was a journey to try a fit man, never mind one who was sick, or suicidal. He had arranged with ibn Said to visit the Garden of Balm as a Muslim. It was all he could do: see Nicholas, speak to him, and above all speak to Tobie. And Nicholas would have to be got out before Anselm Adorne came to find him. For any sympathy he had felt for Nicholas would have given way to something different by now.
He went to Matariya next day on a ramshackle donkey, grimly suffering the punishing ride across the immense, bustling city to pass into the quiet green land of gardens and orchards that lay to its north, fringed with the great homes of the rich. Close to Matariya one could glimpse the walls and belvederes and flowering trees of still greater palaces, one of them the Qayt Bey’s own. The Garden was his, and sometimes the pilgrims were dismissed and sent to stay in the village, so that the Sultan’s men could set up their fine silken awnings and spread carpets and cushions, and load plates of silver and gold for some banquet.
Arriving today at the Garden and showing his credentials, which represented him as one of those whom pilgrims hired to seek lodgings and permits, John thought for a moment that some such eviction was indeed occurring. Within the gates, a violent fracas seemed to be taking place. At the centre of it was a short figure with a slipping veil and a vocabulary which seemed to be a mixture of Latin and Arabic. The man looming beside her, garbed in a frayed robe with a striped cloth round his head, and translating in voluble Arabic, was Nicholas. His eyes, though unusually sunken, were ox-like with innocence. In the shadows behind them stood Tobie. John shuffled purposefully over and asked him for money.
Tobie drew in his breath. Belligerently, John repeated the demand, while Tobie’s expression wavered between relief and apprehension. John said, in the same atrocious Italian, ‘Is that Katelijne Sersanders?’
‘Yes,’ said Tobie. He gave an inappropriate scowl. ‘They’ve just offended the entire German nation, but I think they can talk their way out of it. Come indoors. She’s not supposed to see you.’
‘Adorne is here then?’ said John. He bent his head, scuffing at Tobie’s heels.
‘Not yet. I suppose she might tell him. But honestly,’ Tobie said, ‘I don’t think it matters.’ Inside, he pulled the covering over the doorway and led the way through to the terrace where he turned. He said, ‘You won’t know what has happened.’
‘I do,’ said John. ‘That’s why I’m here.’ He waited.
‘And you’re wondering what you’ve just seen?’ Tobie said. ‘It’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s the first stage after shock: a longing for any kind of distraction. She’s been magnificent. And he’s almost ready to think. Think rationally this time, I mean.’
‘To the extent of planning?’ John said. ‘Does he want to go home? Or would the other thing have some advantage? Would he be fit for it?’
‘Fit for what? Business in Cairo?’ Tobie said. Then he said, ‘Don’t be a fool. I’m not going to tell Adorne.’
The voices continued, combatively, outside. John sat down. He said, ‘We got word of the gold. He’s been directed to St Catherine’s, Mount Sinai.’
‘You’re jesting,’ said Tobie. He sat down as well, staring at him. He looked as a doctor would, embarked on a long, testing case. After a moment he said, ‘No, you’re not. Yes, he could do it. I don’t think he could concentrate on very much else.’ His voice changed. ‘How did you hear about Gelis van Borselen?’
‘Ibn Said. A trader who came on Adorne’s ship. He told me about Loppe as well. So I knew what to expect.’
‘I didn’t,’ said Tobie. ‘Will you tell me?’
At the end,