The Unicorn Hunt - Dorothy Dunnett [322]
For a seigneur such as Nicholas de Fleury, advice in Gaza was there for the asking. Fishing vessels of many kinds plied between ports. Galleys and roundships abounded elsewhere, and passages could be bought for any destination my lord had in mind. There were maps, yes, of course. If my lord possessed a little silver, some coins, there were drawings to be found of all the islands, the coast, the land of the Grand Turks himself. My lord had only to ask.
The local agent, a Syrian, called the first morning, bringing packets from Damascus, and from Achille in Alexandria. All of them contained coded letters from Gregorio and Julius, duplicated to every factor on the African coast.
Nicholas handed them to John and to Tobie to read, gave the agent a number of fairly obvious instructions, and returned to what he was doing. John, as the Alexandria manager, read them through, made some notes, and then locked himself in a storeroom with Tobie. The place smelled of carobs. Tobie sneezed. John said, ‘You’ve seen all the dispatches. I’m going to Alexandria. Now. If Nicholas doesn’t follow, I’ll have to leave there and go back to Venice.’
Tobie said, ‘You should probably go.’
He looked profoundly uneasy. Amidst his own annoyance, John felt sympathy for him. He had never envied the other man the half-intimacy which had always existed between the doctor and Nicholas. He had seen how one could find oneself drawn into the complexities that lay beneath the composure. He said, ‘I’ve heard the fairytale of the gold. Can’t you tell me anything?’
Tobie said, ‘Not much. Nicholas has something he has to do on one of the islands. After that, he’ll probably come.’ He scratched his nose and turned over a paper. ‘These results are all right. The Bank isn’t in trouble.’
‘It isn’t. But Nicholas specifically planned a short absence. He’ll have been away for four months. And we were cut off in the Tyrol last winter.’
‘Well,’ said Tobie. ‘He had the opportunity to exploit the Tyrol. Then Adorne threatened to usurp us in Cairo. And there was the chance of the gold.’
John said, ‘I’m not disputing the reasons. Meeting his wife at Sinai was another. But look at all this. Scotland ought to have proper attention: that estate is built, and needs to be run. If he’d installed me as he promised, they’d have engineers by now, trained in simple irrigation and drainage at least. What’s that expensive goldsmith up to? And how are they getting on in the Tyrol, with Moriz stuck in Venice because Nicholas isn’t there? And what’s worse, if they are managing to dig silver, what are they spending it on? If the Tyrol blows up in the Duke of Burgundy’s face because of Nicholas, what will happen to Diniz in Bruges?’ He paused and said, ‘That bloody parrot,’ in a voice he realised was fretful.
Tobie looked at him. He said, ‘He would only come back here as soon as he could. Best get it over with.’
His guess was right, then. John said, ‘Zacco. It has been Zacco behind it, all along?’
‘I think,’ said Tobie, ‘that Zacco is the least of it. But yes, I think Nicholas has always known he was being coaxed, from point to point, towards Cyprus.’ He broke off and said, ‘He may not go, even yet. Not unless it coincides with his other reasons for being here. After what happened, would you go back to Cyprus?’
‘I don’t know,’ said John le Grant. ‘But whatever he’s doing, you’d better go with him and sober him up. There is still a real world out here, even though he’s forgotten it.’
No, he didn’t envy Tobie.
By then, Katelijne Sersanders was beginning to feel herself once again. Sitting on her balcony, the sea sparkling below,