The Vault of Bones (35 page)

'Good brothers, it began like this’ I started, and laid out my tale from the start - or not quite the start, for I passed over our first strained meeting with young Baldwin in the tavern, and gave matters a gloss of gentility that had, at the time, been sadly lacking. I was honest, to a degree; as honest as I believed I could be, but I left the girl out of the telling, and made my escape from Rome into a pleasant diversion. I said nothing of the
Inventaria,
those of the pope and of Mesarites, and made pretend there was but one list of the relics in the Pharos chapel, that of Baldwin. And, to be sure, I did not tell of my last visit to the Chapel, and of what had befallen there. I guessed Michael Scot had also left out this detail. Querini, I told them, had taken Jean de Sol with him, plotted with the Regent to have me killed, and then returned for the Crown of Thorns. Letice ... I had no idea what to do about Letice, or indeed who she really was, but to make matters simple I styled her as the sister of Querini's secretary, come to Greece to seek a husband, who had fallen under the threat of some terrible dishonour at the hands of Querini - I took care to be exceptionally vague at this point - and had helped me to escape in return for her own rescue. As I told this last piece of the tale I felt the girl's eyes upon me, and glancing at her, received a cat's languid, two-eyed blink.

When I had finished, the Dominicans, who had been listening to me in rapt attention, bent their heads together for a moment. Then James rose and, with a polite bow, ducked out into the sunlight while Andrew turned back to me.

'My son’ he said, you have had a most vexing time of it. And yet you appear to have done your masters memory some honour. You have escaped with your life and with His Holiness' letter. You have saved a most famous man, by which I mean the famed Scotus, and his venerable friend. And you bring to the midst of this disaster some hope that the task entrusted to my brother James and I might yet be fulfilled. For if, as you think, it is Querini's intention to hold the holy Crown as a security’ he curled his lip at the blasphemy of the thought, 'then it is simply a matter of transferring the, the
gratitude
of my royal sovereign from Baldwin to said Querini.'

"That is so’ I agreed, 'as far as I can fathom it.'

'It is tiresome’ said Andrew, cracking his knuckles briskly with annoyance. 'His Majesty did so want his cousin's empire to benefit. But the Regent's improvidence has rendered that impossible. But as Solomon the Wise said, "Go not forth hastily to strive, lest thou know not what to do in the end thereof, when thy neighbour hath put thee to shame.'"

'Solomon also said, "He that maketh haste to be rich shall not be innocent’" I said.

'If you mean Nicholas Querini, I would not put great store in his innocence’ agreed Andrew, amused. 'But remember the whole of the proverb, for the first part has some bearing on your own self: "A faithful man shall abound with blessings.

'Blessed, but hardly faithful’ I said piously.

'Not at all. You have shown great loyalty to your master, and faith in the rightness of his — and our — mission’ said Andrew. 'And let it be said that I greatly enjoyed Monsieur de Sol's company. I grieve that I shall not enjoy it again, and I believe that King Louis will be saddened, for he spoke highly of de Sol, to me and to others.'

'My master had many friends,' I agreed. 'The Holy Father himself held him in some esteem. When we spoke with him, he...'

'Gracious me, you have met the Holy Father?' said Andrew, amazed. He seemed to be regarding me with new respect, which I confess had been my intention. And so I told him again of the journey to Viterbo, remembering that I had left myself out of the first telling, and realising that to profit now from telling something of the truth would do me no harm at all no matter what King Solomon might have to say.

While we were talking, the ship was drawing close to the city, and indeed we had rounded the end of the peninsula and were sailing through the boom and into the Golden Horn, until the captain ducked his head under the awning to ask Andrew what his pleasure might be. A pilot boat had met us some time before, and the news of our arrival (though not of my presence aboard) would already be at the palace. So I expected the order to be a meek retreat, but instead the friar stood up and beckoned me to join him. I left Letice, who had fallen into a trance of fatigue, and staggered out into the cold sunshine. There was the wall of Byzantium, jagged and rotten, and, towering above it, the vast and piled domes of Hagia Sophia, pallid in the sun. And there were the Italian wharves. We were close enough to see that upon one of them, a party waited: knights done up in their finery, fluttering pennants, and even the purple robes of a bishop could be glimpsed. I knew the Regent would be there, florid Anseau de Cayeux, and no doubt Chamberlain Hughues would be at his side.

The Genoese captain was a fine sailor. He had hung just enough sail to carry us sweetly and gently forward, and the fat ship was gliding like a swan, tacking up into the wind, trailing its own modest pennants in the lively air, for the royal standard had been furled at Andrew's request. We edged towards the quay, until I could see the red of the Regent's cheeks. A man in white robes stepped forward and raised his hand to us in a lordly greeting. There was a loud crack! and the great flag of France unfurled behind us. There was a cheer from the quay. At that moment Andrew gave the captain a nod. The Genoese gave a curt command. All of a sudden the deck was alive with scurrying men, all grabbing up ropes and hurling themselves into the rigging. There was a commotion of canvas and air, and the ship began to go about. With timing so perfect that I found myself sharply envious of the crew's skill, the hull drew a white circle upon the dirty waters of the Golden Horn, until it presented its stern to the Regent and his party. With another command, the crew heaved upon the lines, the sail filled, and the ship began to gather speed. The great blue and gold standard of Louis Capet waved a mocking farewell to Constantinople, and to the men on the quay, now milling about in consternation. But they were fading from view, for we were already out past the boom, out into the currents of the Bosphorus, with a fine, fast day's westward sailing ahead of us, out of the Sea of Marmara and the ruined city that squatted at its end, like a dead spider in an empty web.

Chapter Twenty-Five

‘Nicholas Querini owns an island’ said Letice. They were the first words she had spoken to anyone - save a few mutterings to me, ill-tempered with fatigue - for she had slept her way across the Sea of Marmara and down through the Hellespont, and now that she had made her way on deck to join us for luncheon, we were out in the Aegean, with Lemnos far away to starboard and Tenedos behind us.

‘I’m sorry?' said James, looking at her in some amazement, or possibly discomfort, for although his sensual complexion made this seem unlikely, he was the shyer of the two Dominicans.

‘It is called Stampalia’ she went on, and I realised she was speaking Paris French, and well at that. 'Rich Venetians tend to have their own islands’ she explained, cutting herself a slice of salted ham. 'Querini has Stampalia, which lies to the south, near Naxos.'

'How interesting’ said Andrew, distractedly. He was attempting to eat a piece of dry and crumbling bread on which perched a tough sliver of ham while reading some official-looking document. Crumbs were showering over the parchment.

'And I was wondering if, perhaps, he is there’ she said primly, dabbing at her lips with her sleeve. With the holy relic.'

The Dominicans looked up as one.

'How far is this Stampalia?' asked Andrew.

'Three or four days
^’
sail’ said Letice.

'Why would he not have carried his prize back to Venice?' I asked. James nodded in agreement.

‘I do not know, but I wonder ... these seas are dangerous at this time of year, and the news in Constantinople, again and again, was of the Greek Emperors navy and their raids on the ships of the Latins. Perhaps he is holding court in his castle until spring comes. Or perhaps he has left the holy relic there under guard. In either case ...'

'My dear daughter, you are not suggesting ...' began James, a frown ploughing across his pink forehead.

'No, no, I am sure Mistress Letitia was not implying that we should
abscond
with the relic’ I said hurriedly. 'But ...' and I stared hard at Letice as I spoke, 'if Messer Nicholas is at home, we will perhaps be able to treat with him there, and thus save us the long and uncertain passage to Venice.'

'I do not think that Querini has the authority to treat with us’ said Andrew kindly, a little as if he were addressing a child or perhaps a horse. I waited for Letice to bridle at his tone, but she merely smiled impassively. 'I have assumed, from what Master Petroc has told us, that Querini is merely acting as an agent for the Serene Republic of Venice, and that it is in Venice that we will conclude our business.'

'I do not know if that is actually true’I put in. 'That is, I assumed the same thing at first, but now ... if he were an agent of the Doge, he would not have made off with Monsieur de Sol, or tried to kill me. De Sol is a resident of the Republic. He is on friendly terms with the Doges' palace.'

Well, then, I ... how far is this Stampalia? Perhaps I will at least mention it to the good captain’ said Andrew, and returned to his battle with bread and ham.

'Good Brother Andrew, perhaps you can tell me how this matter
is
to be settled?' I said. That question had been preying upon my mind since first I had set foot aboard the
Seynt Victor,
and this seemed as good a time as any to broach it. For it seemed that, if Captain de Montalhac's company was to reap any reward from this ghastly mess, I would have to do the reaping. And indeed I seemed to hear the Captain's voice in my ear: 'Pay attention, Patch! Pay attention.'

The friar looked up again, crumbs flying, jaws working furiously upon a piece of pig gristle. 'It is a simple transaction,' he said at last, after a mighty swallow. 'Possession of the Crown is transferred to His Majesty Louis, depending upon its exchange for a gift, a token of gratitude, from the king to the emperor or empire.'

'Exactly! And the size of this putative gift was, I hazard, known by my master?'

'No,' said Andrew, wiping his greasy mouth with the back of his hand.

'Oh?' I said, surprised. This was not going to be easy, then.

'It had not been decided,' said Andrew.
'Has
not, even yet. We were to adjust the magnitude of the gift to the needs, the requirements, of Baldwin de Courtenay. These needs, we hoped, we could estimate without putting His Majesty the Emperor to any embarrassing questions. As, now, the Crown is being held in surety for a loan, the gift, to my thinking, will be in the amount of said loan - for how better to reward Baldwin but to discharge him from onerous and shameful obligation?'

'Indeed. So ...' I paused, my mind scurrying ahead to commissions and percentages. 'The mortgage imposed by Querini is in the sum of...' There was a sharp burst of pain in my lower shinbone. I looked around to see that Letice was glaring at me with her piercing eyes, the same docile smile upon her lips. She had kicked me smartly under the table.

'Querini's mortgage is the crux of the matter’ agreed Andrew, not noticing a thing. As soon as we find out what it is, we can send back to Paris and make arrangements. But it is to be assumed that we are concerned with a considerable sum - a very considerable sum indeed, to necessitate such a holy, an indeed priceless security. I would place the Crown's worth far above that of the whole empire, from what I have heard and seen of
that!

'Quite so, quite so’ I said smoothly, placing my chin upon steepled fingers, something I had seen Gilles do. I felt like a rank impostor, but nonetheless we seemed, incredibly, to have come to the nub of the matter. And what sum is in your remit to ... to disburse?' I enquired casually.

'Oh, good heavens!' cried Andrew. The piece of bread burst asunder in his fist, blasting crumbs everywhere. One caught in my eyebrow, and I spied another upon the ivory skin of Letice's neck. I bit my lip in frustration: I had gone too far. But no: Andrew was brushing his hands together and gazing at the clouds overhead, as if performing some kinetic prayer. I could see his great teeth. He was smiling.

'My dear son’ he said at last, tugging abstractedly at his earlobe, 'I cannot quite believe it myself, but I have the authority - and I tell you this only because you are now, to my mind, the successor of Monsieur de Sol...' he broke off and glanced at Letice. She stood up and dashed the breadcrumbs from her tunic front. 'I believe we need a little more wine’ she said brightly, taking up the jug and wandering off towards the stern.

An extremely well-bred young lady’ I murmured, sanctimoniously. The friar nodded his agreement.

'Indeed, yes’ he said. 'Most discreet, most discreet. Now ...' he leaned forward until his mouth was inches from my ear. It is King Louis' wish that James and I give whatever is necessary to secure the Crown.'

Whatever necessary being ... ?' I could barely get the words out.

When I said that the Crown was worth more than the empire, I was not indulging in rhetoric,' said Andrew, softly. 'Louis is willing to present Baldwin with ... with half the royal treasury of France!' he finished in a rush and regarded me, panting a little, as if he had relieved himself of a physical burden. And indeed he had, I thought. What could the kingdom of France be worth? I thought of the barber of King Midas, rushing out to bellow his secret to the bullrushes. Well, I would press on.

'My ... my merciful Lord!' I squeaked, blinking in unfeigned shock. 'That could be no less than ... than ...'

'One hundred and fifty thousand golden livres,' hissed Andrew, in a rapture of release. 'There. It is told. I would have told Monsieur de Sol ere now, and so I am telling you.'

'And I shall tell no one,' I assured him.

Andrew stood up and rubbed his cheeks briskly, as if to force the blood back into them. You see what a dilemma James and I have been in?' he asked. I nodded.

'Good brother Andrew,' I said, leaning forward over the food-strewn table, 'I see what a burden you have borne. But consider this. It may be that to find Querini away from Venice would put us to some advantage. If he should reach Venice, is it not possible, given the record of past Doges, that the Republic might be loath to surrender the relic, even to King Louis himself?'

'It ... it is possible,' Andrew conceded. He turned away and gazed eastwards, towards the golden backs of the islands that shimmered there. 'Four days' sail, eh? Not so very far. I shall consult my brother.' And without another word he drifted off, leaving me in possession of the table, and of the ham, on to which I fell in an ecstasy of greed, made sharper by relief, and by the appalling, wonderful secret with which I had just been entrusted.

I had not had time to think much about Letice of Smooth Field since we had escaped from the Pharos Chapel. I might have left her there on the shore, but my mind and body were in painful turmoil and it had been easier to take her with me. And strange to say, her kneeling to pray by the water had moved me in some way I could not have explained then or now. Since we had climbed aboard the
Seynt Victor
we had barely seen each other. But when she had insinuated herself into my conversation with Andrew, and that sly kick beneath the table ... All the desolate, impotent rage I had felt when Michael had revealed to me the circumstances of Anna’s death had come flooding back. But I was trapped now, for I could not ill-treat any woman, no matter how evil; nor could I have her put ashore, for I was but a passenger on this ship. We had no power over each other here, and that very thought was a knife in my heart.

Thank you’ I told her now. I had cornered her in the prow, where she was watching the land slip by in the distance. 'Thank you very much. Do not..’ I held up my hand, for she had turned to me in surprise. 'Do
not
mistake yourself, lady. I do not know what is in your mind, but I know what you are, and what you have done. That you and I are alive together on this ship is an accident, nothing more. You will keep out of my affairs, or by God I'll.. ‘ I broke off, and smacked the rail in confused rage.

'Master Petroc, there is something I must say to you’ I rounded on her in fury, for how dare she address me? But her eyes were cast down and she was hugging herself tightly across the chest, and the unbidden memory of that day in Rome when I had witnessed Querini beating her stilled my tongue.

'I was in London when you were there’ she muttered. With some others. They were looking for ...'

‘I know who you were looking for’ I said, quiet in my turn, for I feared that if I raised my voice I would lose control of my passions and strike her, or worse.

'Facio was riding the horse’ she said, eyes still down. 'He was the tall man with me in Rome, down by the river, the one who .. ‘ She gave me a rueful look, and I narrowed my eyes. 'I told him not to kill you, though he had planned on it. He was a mercenary once, before he met Nicholas Querini, and can ride a destrier as well as any knight’ she went on. 'I did not know they planned to kill your woman. I thought they would take her back to Venice. I ... I would not have been party to it, I swear’

'I do not believe you’ I told her. Why should I? You are a murderess and the tool of an evil-doer. You killed your own friend in front of me. And Fulk de Grez in Rome, and his companion, no doubt: why would you not murder .. ‘ I could not utter Anna's name in the presence of this creature. 'It would surely be as easy, nay, easier by far, to strike down a defenceless woman’

You were there!' She pleaded. You saw!'

"Twas not you upon the horse’ I hissed, 'but you no doubt guided your friends to Cheapside. That is why you were in London, was it not?'

Well, you are right’ she said, and her eyes met mine. They were rimmed with red, and the pale skin beneath them was bruised with exhaustion. We knew your plans - Nicholas keeps an army of spies to tell him of friends and enemies, and what the world's gold is doing; and at Pope Gregory's court there was a certain Peter of Verona, newly become Inquisitor General of northern Italy, courtesy of Querini gold ...'I closed my eyes. The trap that had caught us was monstrous. I saw Peters jolly face and cold eyes, and how spittle had flown from his grinning mouth as he spoke of heretics and what he did with them.'... we were waiting for your ship’ Letice was saying. We had been there since November ...'

'But I do not care about this’ I snapped. What does it matter? I know. All of it: all the schemes, all the ... waste.' She opened her mouth in shock. 'Oh, do not play the virtuous one’ I told her. 'I have found out your masters plan at last - too late, but a simpleton like me is always late to the feast, eh?'

We were to kidnap the lady, no more’ insisted Letice. 'I thought Nicholas was going to ransom her off to her uncle. And then I heard ... I saw her, out in the streets; followed her. She was a fine lady ...'

'She was a
princess?
I cried. 'But that is not why - dear God, I cannot bear this!'

'That wasn't why you loved her’ said Letice, quietly. I stared at her, horrified. 'And Querini is not my master, no matter what you might think - I'd not blame you for thinking it, mind. No, listen’ she said hurriedly, for I had begun to turn away. 'I was his woman, it is true. He took care of me, and what I gave him in return should be obvious. And more: I was useful to him, for I have a quick mind, and men will betray themselves happily for a pretty face. Nicholas has grown rich on such betrayals. I am not dull enough to think I am the first woman he has used thus, and I shall not be the last. But he gave me a fine life and I was happy to do his bidding. Until that day. No: listen to me. I saw you in Rome that day, when Nicholas blacked my eye: remember? He had taken me out to buy me something, or so he said, but we were following you. When I realised, I told him I would have nothing more to do with it, that he had no right...'

'Please, do not mock me with this morality play,' I scoffed, but she shook her head furiously.

Whatever else I may not be, I am a woman’ she said, eyes blazing. 'I will not suffer to watch my sisters ill-treated. I am a whore, Master Petroc’ she said defiantly. 'Not a
princess,
but I know how men use women, how they hurt us, defile us, kill us as if we were beasts. Do you know why Nicholas had your woman killed? Because it was
easier
than carrying her off. If she had been a man, do not think but that he would have taken the trouble. That's what I told him, there in the market, and he knocked me down.'