Pip Vaughan-Hughes - The Vault of bones

'But he looks like such a typical merchant,' I protested. 'Big and pleased with himself. Lots of food and drink and pats on the back.'

'Oh, he's all of that,' snorted Letice. 'That's how he keeps folk off their guard while he's pinching their stuff.' She saw my surprised look. 'Not pinching like you mean, Petroc. He doesn't steal things and shove them in a bag. He does it with paper and words and numbers. That's the way to nick the really big stuff. Like empires. He would love to be Doge, of course,' she said, thoughtfully. 'I've always known that. He started to let me out of the house, you see, to spy on his rivals. No one knew who I was, or what I was, and I caught on to the language pretty quick, so I could go anywhere. No past, not in Venice. That's when I met Facio and Dardi.' 'I was wondering about that,' I said.

'Dardi was a knife-man, pure and simple,' she told me. 'Anyone Nicholas wanted out of the way, Dardi took care of it. He was busy all the time, and Nicholas paid well, so he got rich. But he didn't get clever, or less like an ape. Facio, however… he's different. Very quick. He'd be a Nicholas if he'd had the right parents, but he's a fisherman's son, so he must needs claw and trample his way up. He's close to Nicholas now, close as can be. He thinks Nicholas will get him made a nobleman – perhaps he's right. He'd kill the pope for that. If it had been Facio in the chapel, we wouldn't be having this talk.'

We were silent for a while. The wind was picking up and it was getting colder. Letice leaned her shoulder against mine for a moment and then pulled away. I found myself wishing she would do it again.

‘We are not so different, you and I,' I said. We have had our lot thrust upon us. It was my fate to fall into the hands of Captain de Montalhac, whom I would call a good man, although others would not. It was yours to be found by Nicholas Querini, who the world accounts a good and gentle man. But we have both been drawn into… into…'

Into a stinking bloody jakes,' she said. 'By your leave I'll wish you goodnight, polite Master Dog, and I'll see you in the morning.'

‘The castle of the Querinis, despite all Letice had done to proclaim it a grim and doom-laden place, was a great block of brand-new, blindingly white ashlar sitting almost cheerfully above its whitewashed village, and overlooking two coves of clear, deep water. Querini himself was gone, we saw at once: there was no ship in the harbour, and no flag flew from the battlements.

As soon as we had come within sight of Stampalia, the two Dominicans had begun pacing about the deck, whispering agitatedly to each other and getting in the way of the sailors.

It had been decided that only Letice and I should go ashore, so that suspicions should not be aroused. Master Lambertus found me a sword, an ugly thing that looked as if it had last been used to slaughter hogs; but it had a scabbard and a belt, and I was glad to gird myself with it, although there seemed to be no threat of danger. I put on my cloak, and Letice put on hers, and together we climbed down into the jolly-boat. As the sailors rowed us across the cove to where a line of fishing dinghies were pulled up on the narrow white beach, I saw the villagers milling about under the trees. They did not seem alarmed by our arrival, and I took that to be a good thing. When we had jumped ashore, a few fishermen wandered over to see what we were about, and I greeted them in their own tongue and told them we had business at the castle. The Lordos was away, they told us. We had just missed him – he had left but two days ago. When would he be back? They shrugged as one and, evidently relieved that we were not Venetians nor officials of any outside power, went back to mending their nets. ‘They did not recognise you,' I said to Letice.

Well, I was never allowed to wander about down here’ she answered. ‘I was here for a month, three years ago. But I think I can find the path – here.'

We followed a narrow roadway, here cobbled, there rock-hewn steps, that wound up through the village, where old ladies sat in their doorways and children hid from us, and chickens looked down upon us from the olive trees. It was a short but steep climb up to the gate, and when we reached it there was no one in the guardhouse. I called through a grate in the thick door, and presently heard footsteps clipping towards us. A very young man-at-arms peered through, and then a thick, booze-blown nose appeared.

'Mistress Letice’ crowed a throaty Venetian voice, there was a scraping and clanking, and the postern door opened.

'Jacopo’ said Letice, I fear we have come too late, and must chase Signor Nicholas back to Venice!'

'Alas, yes’ said Jacopo. He was a well-fed and well-watered fellow in his middle years, with swollen hands and rheumy eyes. I guessed he took a keen interest in the running of his masters cellars. 'But you are expected’ he went on. 'And where is Signor Dardi?' he enquired, looking me up and down curiously as Letice and I stepped into the little courtyard, a high-walled space adorned with orange trees in clay pots and with carved plaques bearing what I assumed were the Querini arms. It smelled faintly of new mortar. 'Dardi sent me ahead. He remains in Constantinople’ said Letice, as the gate shut behind us. ‘I am to set things in order here in the meantime’

'Good, good!' said Jacopo with evident relief. We are all so looking forward to Signor Dardi taking up his new position,' he added, his words oozing with desperately feigned sincerity.

'I am sure that you are’ said Letice, regarding him down the length of her nose. The man cringed slightly, or perhaps I was imagining things. 'Now. Master Nicholas left me instructions. Did he leave anything here, anything of importance he carried out of Constantinople?' 'No thing’ said Jacopo. 'No actual thing…'

'A chest, an extremely valuable chest’ Letice prompted him. 'I am to make sure that it is locked up in the strongest room you have.'

'A chest?' asked Jacopo, looking more and more puzzled. 'No, no, nothing like that.'

'Perhaps not a chest’ said Letice. 'A box. A… a package, about this big?' She glanced at me, and gestured with her hands, the width of a man's head.

'Absolutely not, I am afraid’ said Jacopo blankly. 'He brought spices for the kitchens and a bolt of silk for hanging in the great hall, but… no, apart from our guest, he left nothing more than that.' ‘Your guest?' said Letice sharply.

'I speak lightly’ said Jacopo apologetically. 'The man whom my lord brought from Constantinople – we are to hold him until such time…'

'Holding him?' I asked, feeling as if I were about to fall down upon the flagstones, so strong was the blood running about my skull. 'The… the Frenchman?'

'Jacopo, I have not presented Signor Petrus, lately come into my lord's service’ said Letice smoothly, as Jacopo's wet eyes grew round with surprise.

'He is French, yes indeed’ said Jacopo. 'So you know of whom I speak. Good. I was beginning to worry that he would die before… ah, yes. Signor Dardi was going to ask him some questions’

'Indeed he was’ I said grimly. 'Well, Signor Dardi has entrusted the asking to me’

The man gave a great whooshing sigh of relief. 'How marvellous’ he wheezed. 'I… Signor Querini knows I am not the equal to such special tasks. I was sure I would fail him. Would… would you like to see him now? No, no, forgive me. I must settle you first. You are tired, you are hungry – you are waiting for your effects to come ashore. Signora, should I send men to fetch them?'

'No, no. The master of the ship has taken care of it. No, let us see this Frenchman of yours – Signor Petrus had better talk to him before he expires, eh?'