To Lie with Lions - Dorothy Dunnett [185]
Paúel Benecke smiled. He said, ‘I heard the word Einhyringr.’
‘All right,’ Nicholas said. He had made a criminal slip over that vessel. There was no way he could keep it from Benecke. He turned his back on the crowd and made the best of it. He said, ‘The Unicorn hasn’t gone home.’
‘It hasn’t come here,’ Benecke said. ‘We should have seen it, or heard.’
‘No,’ Nicholas said. ‘It hasn’t come here. But they all know where it’s gone. So did Sersanders. He’s taken his sister and set off by sea to the mouth of the Thjórsá. From there, they’ll ride to the Bishop at Skálholt. Then, with his help, they’ll cross to the Danish Governor’s house near Hafnarfjördur and either join the Unicorn there, or ride down to the south coast at Grindavik. As I said, the Unicorn didn’t go south. It circled the Westmanns, and came straight back to the south-west of Iceland.’
He kept his voice even. He didn’t feel like keeping it even, because he knew he had been fatally stupid, and his only comfort was that Benecke hadn’t guessed either. Nicholas said, ‘Didn’t you wonder about the Unicorn’s cargo? All that salt … Yes, of course Martin was going to fish. But all those small, compact high-value bales in addition? We thought it was barter for stockfish.’
‘By the Virgin!’ said Benecke. His teeth showed neat as pebbles within the black beard. ‘Your cannoneer might have told you. He knows, if anyone knows, what the ingredients of gunpowder are. My poor Nikolás, Martin has gone to buy sulphur at Hafnarfjördur! And unless you lift the guard from my ship, you cannot stop him!’
It was difficult, after that, to maintain any ascendancy. They did return to the ship, where Nicholas acquired certain equipment, and left behind certain explicit orders for which he would one day be thankful. It was all he did leave behind: Benecke insisted on coming back to Markarfljót with him, and in the end he gave in and took Robin too. If they were going to wander about, he would need an intermediary posted at Markarfljót. That would be Robin’s job. Robin, who had hoped to wander about with him, agreed in a way half jubilant, half subdued. Then they all three left the ship, and returned to the shore they had just left.
They passed the night as Sersanders had done, in Tryggvi’s ill-smelling hut. Tryggvi was not there: he had put to sea with Sersanders and Kathi, with a son to help with the rowing and to handle the ponies they would hire when they landed. On winter-weak beasts, it would be a day’s ride to Skálholt, or more.
It sounded a laborious journey, but it was safer than most. In theory, you could make the whole trip directly on horseback, but that was to ignore all the rivers: those fast, swollen Icelandic rivers that dragged men and horse into crevasses and overturned ferries in spate. Nicholas was thankful that Kathi had not chosen that way. And for the journey from Skálholt, she would have the help and advice of the Bishop.
From the beginning, Benecke set out to irk him. ‘Let the fools go,’ was his refrain. He said it again, as they sat in the hut before bedtime, drinking an anonymous soup provided by a crone and two giggling girls. ‘The Unicorn may have loaded and gone before they get there.’
‘Will it?’ said Nicholas. Robin was nodding: sleep would mend the hurt of his banishment. Nicholas felt no remorse.
Paúel Benecke replied with an amiable sarcasm. ‘You think the Danish deputes should impound the Unicorn, since it is not a tax-paying ship from the Hanse? They should. But your friend is astute. Your friend Martin has guessed that a small gift to the Governor and the Bishop may not go amiss. There is no such thing, you see, as an absolute monopoly.’
‘You surprise me,’ said Nicholas.
‘Do I?’ said Paúel Benecke. ‘So, how far will you put yourself out for this girl? For that is all it amounts to. There is no other reason for following.’ He paused. ‘Of course, were you to release me and my ship, we could waylay the Unicorn for you, and expose those improper practices.’
‘I should