The Unicorn Hunt - Dorothy Dunnett [266]
His patron and friend took a different view, and made it plain at the outset. ‘This isn’t Alexandria. I’m here on suffrance; you’re not supposed to be here at all.’
‘I know,’ Nicholas said.
‘They’ll spot you as a stranger.’
‘They have already,’ Nicholas said.
‘If I can’t track down David de Salmeton with money, how can you do it in bath-houses and bazaars?’
‘It’s a challenge,’ Nicholas said. ‘You seem to think he’s taken our place with the Sultan. Don’t you want to know how?’
‘Aye,’ said his agent. ‘But I don’t think you’re going to find out pitching about like a duck with its head off. I thought we were going to Sinai.’
‘Then why not go?’ Nicholas said. ‘Since Cairo seems so alarming.’ Then he drew breath and said, ‘Look. You’re a Venetian agent: the Sultan won’t touch you. He still needs Venice. Genoa and the Knights of St John can’t hold off the whole Ottoman Empire, and Adorne can hardly deliver a Papal Crusade. They can’t even prise two ships out of Tommaso.’
John said, ‘Of course the Sultan won’t kill, but his Mamelukes could get out of hand. Mistakes happen. Or David de Salmeton would be happy to oblige, with or without the help of Adorne. You’ve got to be careful. Don’t you see that?’
Later, he wondered how he could have been so naïve. At the time, there was a pause, then Nicholas laughed. He said, ‘I suppose I do. Or they could always blame Tzani-bey’s sister.’
‘Tzani-bey’s what?’ John le Grant said.
‘His sister. She hired a man to kill Zacco in Cyprus six years ago. Now she’s threatening me. Or so rumour is trying to make out.’
‘But you don’t believe it?’
‘After all this time? She wasn’t even responsible for –’ He broke off, his manner vague. ‘No, I don’t believe it. But it’s an excuse, I suppose, if they need one.’
He sounded undisturbed, which was as maddening as it was cause for concern. John le Grant spent his time thinking up ways to control Nicholas.
He met perhaps his greatest failure the following day, their eighth in Cairo together. He was himself tired and out of patience by the time he confronted Nicholas, who returned late as usual to their chamber, his high-buttoned galabiyya lightly scented with cinnamon and spiced food and hashish. He blinked in the lamplight, but not as if drugged.
Le Grant said, ‘Adorne is in Cairo. He came yesterday.’
‘Oh,’ said Nicholas. He unfastened and let fall the robe, and sank into the window-cushions. Instead of hose, he wore linen trousers, once white, and his shirt was wringing with sweat. He added, ‘With the whole group?’
‘Tobie and the girl are still at the Garden. But Adorne’s five are all here, straight from Alexandria in the foulest of tempers. Your Baron Cortachy has already been to see the Katib al Sirr, the Clerk of the Secrets.’
‘It seems a curious pilgrimage,’ Nicholas said.
John said, ‘The Katib al Sirr issues permits for Jerusalem. That’s the excuse. But of course he is setting up something else. This, surely, is the partner the Vatachino have been waiting for. And Adorne must know you are here. The niece will have told him.’
‘If they stopped at Matariya. Aren’t you thirsty? I could empty a goatskin.’
John rose and crossed to the table. ‘What do you want?’
‘Pure alcohol, if you have it. No. I’m on qirfa. Or salep would do. Did you know that salep is made from fox testicles? Or perhaps it’s the plant that they brew it from. Vincite fortes. Have you heard Filelfo referred to as triorchos? Are you surprised?’
‘No,’ said John le Grant grimly. He gave him his drink. It was only cinnamon. Nicholas did not always stick to harmless decoctions, John knew. The irresponsibility of it all continued to irk him.
Nicholas said, ‘What do you want to do about Adorne?’
John took his own drink and sat down.