Daughters of the Doge (61 page)

Courtenay took to his bed, and I might have done the same had not Thomas fallen into the house close behind us, having survived a similarly frightening crossing from the mainland on his way back from Padua. We shared the bathwater, we shared the soup and the bread and we shared a bottle of red wine. Then he shared his information.

There were disturbing rumours in Padua. With his increased power in the Low Countries, Philip II was said to be getting more confident. Thomas’s friends warned that his spies were already in Padua, asking about Courtenay. Worse still, Neville had heard they were recruiting
bravi,
with specific instructions to kill the earl. ‘They say the price on his head is fifteen ducats.’

Thomas had just uttered the words when Courtenay rejoined us, looking much the worse for wear. He had been lying in bed, he said, recovering, and had overheard Thomas.

‘Why am I valued so low?’ He seemed offended, but Thomas placated him by explaining that, with the famine this year, prices in general had fallen and ‘starving men will do anything for a very small amount of money’. He winked at me as he said it, suggesting that his reaction, like mine, had been that fifteen ducats (three months’ wages for a skilled mason) was quite a lot of money to a poor
bravo
in the gutter, and on those days when he was being a pain in the backside, not an unreasonable price for an English earl.

Thomas’s words seemed to satisfy Courtenay. He announced he was exhausted and returned to bed. Thomas and I settled down to exchange experiences.

The rest of the news from Padua could not have been better. Thomas had, indeed, seen the third professor and their conversation had been more than encouraging. I told him about Ayham, and my successful treatment of his injury. Thomas was delighted; the more so when I confirmed that the experience had finally removed any residual doubts I might have had about my future. In lowered tones, remembering Courtenay’s proximity, I admitted that I was ready to break from my obligations and planned to leave for Padua as soon as I had spoken to Yasmeen. Thomas agreed.

‘I am sure the earl will have recovered fully by morning and you will be able to take your leave.’

Encouraged that this part of the plan was finally falling into place, I began to think about Faustina. I was starting to explain to Thomas the outline of my proposals for her and Felicità when my nerve failed; somehow, there were still too many variables. On balance, I decided, it was safer to tell people of your achievements, rather than share your dreams.

I could tell by the expression on Thomas’s face that he had noticed my mid-sentence change of mind and guessed, but true to form he said nothing and didn’t pursue me on the matter. Somehow I felt he approved of my prudence.

C
HAPTER
75

August the 29th 1556 – Fondamenta della Sensa, Cannaregio

The storm abated, to be replaced by heavy, continuous rain. The sea level fell and the flooding subsided.

Upstairs, oblivious to the damage around him, Courtenay laid in bed, racked with a fever. There was a huge bruise on his forehead, brown and livid.

‘I don’t know where he got that, Thomas,’ I had explained. ‘We were both thrown around in the water and especially when the net was pulled aboard. He probably did it then. I can promise you one thing; it was not me that gave it to him, although I was minded to once or twice yesterday.’

Thomas signalled me to speak more quietly, in case the earl overheard. ‘You will soon regain your precious freedom, Richard. Just wait here until he is well enough to travel and we will take him to the hospital in Padua together. I will be able to care for him better with their help and support.’

Somehow the earl had managed to have his usual dampening effect upon my plans. I said as much to Thomas, but he only laughed, nodding out of the window at the downpour.

‘Come, Richard. Do not exaggerate the situation. No man could make a day like this any damper. Let’s go upstairs and see how he is, then I will stay with him and you can brave the weather and walk down the canalside. Who knows? You might bump into somebody you recognize.’

He winked at me and I grinned back. We both knew I was desperate to drop in to Ayham’s house to see how my patient fared. And if I happened to see his beautiful daughter? Well, that would be an added bonus. We trailed damply up the slippery steps to the floor above.

The earl looked exhausted, beaten and bruised. His face was ashen, and he complained of the shivers although he was hot to the touch. Thomas began to look more serious. ‘I would be happier, Your Grace, if we could transport you to Padua, where my expert friends can assist me in your cure.’

Courtenay groaned. ‘In a few days, Thomas. Just let this storm abate and we will do as you suggest. For the moment, I should prefer to rest here and try to warm myself. I am mortally cold.’ The phrase rang ominously from a man running with sweat, and Thomas and I exchanged uncertain glances.

‘Go and see your patient,’ Thomas whispered. ‘I shall remain here with this one. But if possible, return by nightfall, for I may need you to replace me here on watch. I am uncomfortable about his fever. It does not bode well.’

As I went to leave, he caught my sleeve. ‘Don’t worry about your visit to Padua. It will come soon enough. There is no rush – they are expecting you.’

Despite a heavy cloak and stout boots, I was soaked by the time I had splashed the few hundred paces to the house Yasmeen shared with her father. They welcomed me in and drew me in front of a comforting fire.

I had not really taken in any details of the house on my previous visits, as I had been too nervous on the first occasion and too preoccupied on the second. Now, as I dried out, I looked around me. The house was small and simply furnished – in many respects it reminded me of my own home in Devon. Like my mother, Yasmeen kept the place spotlessly clean, and although the house was dark it was welcoming.

So, too, was Ayham, who kept patting me on the arm and reminding me how well his leg had mended. ‘Good as new, thanks to you, young man.’ He turned to Yasmeen conspiratorially. ‘He’s a very clever young man, this one.’

Yasmeen looked at me and smiled. It was the secret, special smile she shared with me when she was feeling confident about our relationship.

‘I know he is, Father. And honest. And brave.’

The look she gave me, shielded from her father, contained even more pleasing adjectives. My confidence lifted. Something, perhaps simply the process of time, seemed to have mellowed the doubts she had presented to me nearly three weeks ago.

‘How is the earl? I heard you were in a storm and nearly drowned?’Yasmeen looked concerned, but something told me that my answer should be formulated for the benefit her father as well as her.

‘He remains unwell. He was injured when the fishing boat rescued us and has a bad fever also. Dr Marwood wishes to treat him in Padua, but the earl says he does not yet feel fit to travel.’

‘And will you go with him?’ Ayham asked quickly.

‘If he travels in the next few days, yes. If not, I may travel alone to Padua, for I have been invited to attend an interview at the university, to study medicine.’

Ayham’s face was impassive. ‘And if you are offered a place, what will you do?’

I looked at Yasmeen and decided to take the chance. ‘I shall accept the place and study medicine. I have enough money to buy a good farm nearby, and to make that my home. The rest of my plans remain – uncertain.’

‘Uncertain?’

I looked him straight in the eye. ‘They would be dependent upon you, sir.’

In the corner of my eye I saw Yasmeen’s shining, and I knew I had responded correctly.

‘How upon me?’ Ayham’s face had the impassivity of a market trader, yet I knew what he was thinking. It was as if he was holding his cards away from me while Yasmeen stood behind him, holding up a mirror for me to see them.

‘I would need your agreement, sir.’

‘My agreement?’

Perhaps this was what life was like in the souks of the Medina. Perhaps it had to run its course and not be hurried. Perhaps this was the Arab way. I did not mind. I knew my objective and no time was too much to achieve it.

‘Your authorization.’

I saw his eyes flash, his competitive nature rising, as if the game itself was taking over. ‘What action must I authorize?’

I remained calm. ‘My request of your daughter.’

Now we both knew where the game was leading, but we were locked into this combat of words and gestures. His eyes were black with concentration.

‘You are very forward. What request do you wish to make of my daughter?’

We were there. I could say what I had wanted to say for ages. ‘With your permission, sir, I would humbly ask your daughter to marry me.’

He went to speak, but I held up my hand and continued. ‘I know full well that there are great difficulties and I do not underestimate or undervalue them; I recognize problems of religion and problems of family, but if the prize is large enough, then no problem is too big to be overcome.’

I saw the smallest hint of a smile on his lips and knew he liked my answer. But at the same moment, a shadow passed over his face and I knew a problem remained. ‘You have told me what you will do if you are successful in your mission to the university in Padua. But what will be the outcome if you fail?’ His look told me this was the real issue.

‘First, I shall not fail, for if they choose not to accept me, then I shall conclude that Fate did not intend me to study medicine and wishes to guide me in an alternative direction. In that event, my alternative purpose is clear to me: I shall study painting here in Venice.’ I looked at him hard. ‘In any event, whatever future fate has in store for me, I will ensure that it will be in the Republic of Venice and not more than thirty miles from where we stand now.’