The Unicorn Hunt - Dorothy Dunnett [352]
‘That’s very clever,’ said Cristoffels. Although frequently depressed by Julius, he recognised, as they all did, that he had flair.
‘In fact, that’s the answer,’ said Father Moriz. ‘Offer what help you can; prepare to be outbid by the Vatachino; and claim back the gold.’
‘I don’t agree,’ Gregorio said.
‘Nor do I,’ said John le Grant.
It was the only time they had ever had an outright disagreement. At the end, when no one had moved his position, Tobie said, ‘Nicholas? Something needs saying.’
At last. Gregorio gave a sigh compounded of relief and annoyance, and gazed at Tobie, who was glaring at Nicholas. Two obstinate men. But it was time for Nicholas to admit to his personal stake in this decision. If he wanted to see his son, he must throw his weight – and his gold – behind this Turcomani—Venetian alliance. It might not matter, if they were lucky. They might not be lucky.
Nicholas said, ‘Nothing needs saying that hasn’t already been said. Decisions of this order don’t hang on my whim. We vote, as is fair.’
Gregorio said, ‘No!’
Julius said, with irritation, ‘What do you mean, no?’
‘He means,’ said Nicholas, ‘that he thinks he knows more about my business than I do. So let me remind him that even I can see genuine advantages in both propositions. The Persian alliance was my own preference. But losing that might mean recovering the gold. And people will sometimes do a great deal for gold.’
He had spoken blandly enough. Julius smiled, but Gregorio understood very well what Nicholas meant. For the sake of the gold, or its promise, Gelis might break her pact with the Patriarch. And there were advantages in being seen to support Burgundy – advantages which had not been so apparent at the time of the negotiations in Cyprus and Rhodes. Those were two of the reasons why Nicholas was willing to let this debate take its course. Another was personal – he did not wish to reveal his predicament. And lastly, Gregorio thought he saw in him an unreliable confidence – as if, with Gelis approaching, he had imagined some increase in those strange powers which would bring him what he wanted. It was unlikely to be so.
Julius said, ‘Then let’s settle it. Three of us are willing to give up the gold for the use of the Persian-Venetian alliance, and three prefer to support Duke Charles of Burgundy, submitting the ownership of the gold to the due and slow processes of law. Nicholas has the casting vote.’
Cefo said, ‘What about Diniz and Captain Astorre?’
Julius said, ‘Well, there’s no doubt, is there, about them? They’ll choose Burgundy every time. Nicholas, isn’t that so?’
Of course it was so. It meant that the Patriarch’s scheme was about to be abandoned. Gregorio made a last effort. He said, ‘Nicholas, Tobie is right. No one should be asked to decide without knowing the facts. That gold was meant for the war against Turkey. You are committed – we are morally committed – to giving it up for that purpose.’
‘Not until tomorrow,’ Nicholas said. ‘And you have all the relevant facts in your hands. So let us go round the table again. And those who can, speak for Astorre and Diniz.’
They voted. The issue was crucial: the vote would never have been necessary if the King of France had not gone to war. It would not have taken place had Nicholas allowed three of them to explain what hung on it. As it was, it produced a foregone result. The House of Niccolò, concerned at the change in Burgundian affairs, must take formal steps, with reluctance, to reclaim its gold, and must modify the help it could offer to Persia.
The notes were written up and agreed. The meeting dispersed. Tobie remained behind.
‘Remorse?’ said Nicholas. Now everyone had gone, his face had lost its mobility. The word, far from being bitter, seemed almost meaningless.
Tobie sat down, and waited until Nicholas did. He said, ‘It means you can’t deliver what the Patriarch asked, and so won’t see the child. But perhaps Burgundy and the Tyrol and Scotland now seem to be bigger game, and you don’t really