Scales of Gold: The Fourth Book of the House of Niccolo

by Dorothy Dunnett

  ‘But you and I are here,’ said Father Godscalc. ‘And I want a promise.’

  Then Jorge da Silves took hold of himself and said, ‘It is easily given, but it is not the promise you want. If I leave them, the next ship will carry them off. The Fortado, perhaps.’ All who were not working the ship were watching, except Bel of Cuthilgurdy and Loppe.

  Godscalc said quietly, ‘Then take your coin and free them. If you fear to lose your profit, I shall try to make it up to you somehow.’

  Jorge da Silves had regained his calm. He stood awkwardly as he was gripped and said, ‘Padre, what good will it do to free them? They have been brought hundreds of miles from their homes; their captors rove the desert behind them. Do you expect the Tuareg to mount them on horseback and deliver them back to their huts, in whatever village they may have come from? They must be brought on board. I am glad they are coming on board, for they are your business.’ And he straightened his neck, for Godscalc’s clutch had become slack.

  ‘My business?’ he said.

  ‘That is why you have this caravel,’ said Jorge da Silves, and pulled himself free. ‘To bring souls to Christ. To save the heathen. Speak to your Negro, to Lopez. Surely he has explained this?’

  ‘I tried to explain it,’ said Loppe, standing before him. Behind was Bel his anchor, his former anchor, who must have fetched him.

  Loppe said, ‘Father, let the master go. Let him bring them on board. Whatever happens to these people later, they will do better here than on the Fortado. Once they are on board, we shall listen to you. We were only afraid that, if you knew, you would abandon them.’

  He had agreed, with a numbness amounting to despair, for he could see no alternative. He had gone to the island and, entering the warehouse where the captives lay, ill-fed and exhausted, young once-vigorous people of every shade from swarthy half-Berber to the dense, blue-black colour of Loppe, he had realised that, whatever their fate, it couldn’t be worse than this. Only when brought into the light, and packed in boats, and finally taken on board one of the great birds of the sea, did their apathy break, and they fought, screaming, against being thrust into the hold, and clutched each other in terror as the seamen tried to bring the ship through the channel and, reaching the sea, to set the sails to run south once again.

  No. If Nicholas was there, across the gulf in the red, shining roundship, Godscalc took no joy in the knowledge. He turned his back on the Ghost. He battled side by side with the rest until, somehow, the hoarse, desperate rabble had been induced to settle in some sort of order, and their groups and numbers identified, and the copper cauldron was set on the firebox. They were given bean soup and maize bread and water, and shown where to relieve themselves, for already the San Niccolò stank. Then all but the most violent slept, and Loppe, touching Father Godscalc on the shoulder, said, ‘We should speak in the cabin. Mistress Bel is already there.’

  Godscalc of Cologne walked with the step of an old man to the cabin. There, facing the Negro and the brooding figure of the woman from Scotland, he said, ‘You have seen. Three are sick. There are only six, that I can find, who speak Arabic. The rest have almost no tongues in common. They appear to come from several tribes and no doubt many villages, to which neither we nor they know the way. I see you and Jorge are right. Once they have been brought to Arguim, they are already in irrevocable exile.’

  ‘That is generally so,’ said Loppe softly. There were hollows under his eyes.

  Godscalc said, ‘This therefore is an expedition to buy and sell slaves. You knew as much before you sailed, and so did Nicholas. If you held any discussions, I was not privy to them. I cannot excuse you.’

  ‘I am sorry, Father,’ said Loppe.

  ‘Tush!’ said Bel of Cuthilgurdy to no one in particular.

  Father Godscalc rounded on her. ‘And what does that mean? They cannot be helped, except by exchanging them for horses or money, as has been done, and taking them back to Portugal? So!’ He swung back to Loppe. ‘Why have you let Nicholas do this? Or did he compel you to accomplish it for him, select the best, the most promising? Was this his fee for sending you back to your family?’

  ‘No,’ said Loppe. He cleared his throat. Since leaving Arguim he had abandoned his pourpoint, and in his cap and collarless shirt might almost have been mistaken, Godscalc tried not to think, for one of the blackamoors lying on deck. Loppe said, ‘Ser Niccolò meant to be here. If he had not told you the truth by now, then I should. He didn’t expect to take slaves. It was I who persuaded him. It was the price of my help with the venture.’

  Not the words of a blackamoor. Not the words, surely, of the man Godscalc had taken him to be. Godscalc said, ‘I cannot believe you. Every soul that is purchased encourages the dealers to go and seize more.’

  ‘No one is going to stop buying them,’ Loppe said. ‘Portugal needs Portuguese, and she doesn’t mind if they are black and didn’t wish to come in the first place. She has no qualms, for she is redeeming their souls. Jorge da Silves endorses that: he is a member of the Order of Christ. Prince Henry himself led the Order, and continued the trade to induce captains to sail further and further. One of his slaves is being reared as a priest by the Franciscans.’

  ‘So,’ said Godscalc, ‘what is your excuse for selling your prisoners? To please the King of Portugal, who owns this fine caravel? To place your fellows in better homes than the Lomellini or the Vatachino might have offered? To disarm them by your example? This is what you have in mind?’

  ‘Ser Niccolò did not ask me that,’ Loppe said.

  The grating voice of Bel of Cuthilgurdy spoke from her corner. ‘Your Ser Niccolò knows you. Here’s a good man doing his best. You need to help him.’

  ‘I am sorry,’ said Loppe. ‘But I thought the padre knew us both.’ He stopped, and seemed to make an effort. He said, ‘I said in Lagos I wished to go back to Guinea to learn. I wanted you, a man of God, to come too; and Nicholas – and Ser Niccolò –’

  ‘You think of him as Nicholas,’ Godscalc said grimly. ‘Why don’t you call him so? You wanted us to see what was happening and act upon it? How?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Loppe. The ship was moving fast now, tilting and plunging beneath them, the spray rattling her sides as her sailing-master sought for the speed that would keep her ahead of all rivals. You could hear seamen’s voices, responding to the shrill of the whistle, and the tired, monotonous wail of a child, and sometimes a sudden cry, as fear broke through the exhaustion.

  Loppe said, ‘A long time from now, regulation may be possible. That is, once authority has established itself in this country, the rapine may be stopped, and dealers will become merely agents, who will convey to the coast those men and women who are willing to come. But before this can happen, men must agree that the object is worthy; and then that they must work towards it.’

  Father Godscalc said, ‘I think the object is worthy, and I am ready to be shown what you wish me to see, and to report on it. But in the short term, these poor wretches lie there, and I can see nothing that you or I may do except relieve some of their pains.’

  ‘There is something,’ Loppe said. His voice had warmed, just a little, from relief. He said, ‘You spoke of irrevocable exile, and up till now that’s been true. But a few of these people out there might be restored to the homes that they came from. Some are Sanhaja half-breeds: their villages are not far away, and they would have a good chance of reaching them from the shore. Some are from the coastal tribes of the Jalofos and could be landed in their own region, if they thought the risk of recapture worth while. The rest are from the territory of the Mandinguas, or from kingdoms lying beyond, in the south. Most of these do not know where they live. Their only chance would be a new life in Portugal.’

  ‘You know all these tribes?’ Godscalc said carefully.

  ‘Some of them. I do not speak all the dialects.’

  ‘Are you a son of one of these kings?’ Godscalc asked; and was ashamed when Loppe smiled.

  Loppe said,
‘One of those with thirty wives? You know these are not kings as you speak of them; but rather the respected chiefs of their tribes. I cannot claim to be the son of such a leader, but I know some of the potentates who would give a holy man a fair hearing; and a few of the tribes whose men travel, and know of the tracks to the east. I can pay my fee.’

  ‘I’m not one to contradict you,’ said Bel of Cuthilgurdy. ‘And you’ve pleased the Father, no doubt; but how will Jorge da Silves and the impecunious Nicholas see it? There’s the Ghost, empty but for her travel-sore nags, and here’s the San Niccolò piled high with slaves and their dinners instead of a full load of pepper. If you let half the slaves go, there’s nothing left but heavenly credit, and not so much of that if you think of the converts you’ve lost. Added to which, the Order of Christ takes a religious interest in money. So excuse me if I ask: is that all the help you promised Jorge da Silves and Nicholas?’

  Startled out of his bewilderment, Godscalc gazed at her. Loppe said, ‘There is a box beside you, mistress. Lift the lid.’

  It was the patron’s chest, with a triple lock there had been no time to fasten. Bel of Cuthilgurdy leaned over, and heaved it open with her two sturdy arms. Godscalc rose and stood, the better to view it.

  The box was full of gold. Between the fat bags of dust were piled collars and heavy gold bracelets. Loppe said, ‘It doesn’t take up much room. And there will be more, in the south.’

  ‘How much is there?’ Godscalc said.

  ‘In weight? Over forty pounds, I should think. It should fetch about six thousand ducats, less the King’s quarter at Lisbon. The price of forty horses, and seven hundred slaves.’

  ‘How could you afford it?’ said the woman. ‘As well as buying the blacks?’

  Loppe moved across, and closing the chest knelt to lock it. ‘We sold all we had,’ he said. ‘The rest we paid for in cowrie shells. Ser – Nicholas brought them from Cyprus. They are the currency of the country, and light to carry when we move from the ships.’

  ‘So the other gold marts are inland,’ Godscalc said. ‘And you will be taking us there. Or perhaps to the source of the gold?’

  ‘No one knows the source of the gold,’ Loppe said.

  Far behind on the Ghost, the same questions were asked and answered; but not until well after Arguim, when Ochoa had completed his excursions on shore and the Ghost’s water barricoes were all full, and she had some food and some hay for her livestock. That she carried horses had not been discovered.

  Even then, she had to be careful, easing out of the weedy lagoon under the threatening eye of the patrol boat and setting a course further west than she wanted. Fortunately, there was another flurry of sand; the veils dropped, and it became safe to turn southwards again. She put on her best speed. Ahead was the San Niccolò with her cargo, and Nicholas wanted to catch her before anyone else did.

  It was night therefore before he called Diniz and the girl to sit with him in the great cabin, crammed with their gear. Fashioned of fur and straw, feathers and velvet and ribbon, Ochoa’s hats yawed from their pegs as if grazing; suspended swords flashed; and from a wicker cage slung in a corner a dozen parrots screeched and fluttered and snapped.

  No conversation on a ship could be private, but Nicholas had drawn the door-curtain back to deter eavesdroppers, and began by speaking in Flemish. He wondered what language Loppe had spoken in the inquisition he, too, must have faced across the twenty miles of dark sea that still separated them. Here, the boy was subdued, his eyes dark in the rolling swing of the lamplight. Gelis van Borselen looked a little drawn, perhaps with the heat. He knew the sea never made her unwell. She said, ‘An apologia?’

  Nicholas said, ‘No. A school. You have made me your custodian. From time to time we shall meet like this, and I shall tell you my plans, and I shall also tell you the part I expect you to play in them. I shall listen if you object. I don’t promise to accept your objection. Do you understand this?’

  ‘On the principle of the oranges,’ the girl said. The parrots squawked.

  ‘On the principle, certainly, of a single command. Demoiselle?’ Nicholas said, and turned to her fully. For the first time, he had forced himself to bring all his experience to this meeting with Gelis van Borselen. His relations with Diniz were simple, and could be made, he thought, painless or better. The opposite was the case with the girl. The hostility between them was dangerous, and now had to change. And the only way he could do it was by locking away all his past with Katelina – the past about which her younger sister had guessed a good deal, but not everything. If she had guessed everything, she would have told Simon.

  So he said, ‘Demoiselle. You want to punish me, even to loading me with the guilt of your very possible fate. It’s a little hard on your friends. And at this rate, I might not think it a punishment.’

  ‘You may die first,’ she said. She spoke without humour, and for the first time directly. Diniz drew in his breath.

  Nicholas said, ‘But you haven’t tried to bring it about?’

  ‘I prefer a clear conscience,’ she said. ‘There are plenty of others less scrupulous.’

  He said, with fleeting amusement, ‘And that’s a clear conscience? Well, maybe Father Godscalc would agree. He doesn’t approve of my methods, as your Mistress Bel will no doubt shortly tell you. I expect he is raging up and down the San Niccolò at this moment, coming as near as he can to cursing Jorge da Silves and certainly me.’

  ‘Over the slaves?’ she said. ‘Was he manacled when your sailing-master took them on board? He could have stopped it. He could have threatened to denounce you and the Ghost as I did.’

  ‘He could,’ Nicholas agreed. ‘But no one would have believed him, would they? Can you see Father Godscalc condemning us all, including Diniz, to be hanged in public for piracy? Death to the crew. Confiscation of both the Ghost and the Niccolò. Disaster to my Bank and all those dependent on it and on Diniz. He may be pig-headed, the padre, but he’s not blind deranged.’

  Diniz was silent. The girl herself showed no change of expression, although the curious pricking of colour showed itself under her cheekbones. She said, ‘You are upsetting the parrots. And you think Father Godscalc could save them by no other means, such as paying to free them himself? I imagine even Bel would have opened her purse for him, if he asked her. He is not a man of God. He is your minion.’

  ‘I wish he were,’ Nicholas said. ‘In fact, someone else on board has given more thought to the care of these captives than you or me or Father Godscalc, and it is his suggestions which are going to be followed. Let me tell you what they are.’

  He made it simple, the story of Loppe’s design for the slaves the San Niccolò carried, and of his hopes for changing the trade in the future. As he spoke, the boy coloured up, but the girl sat like a stone, her lids tightened as if against glare. At the end she looked up. But it was Diniz who exclaimed, his eyes brilliant, ‘I wish my father had heard you. And Lopez. But the blacks you already have, can it be done? Will the Niccolò put them off near their homes?’

  ‘Those who wish it,’ Nicholas said. ‘I’m going to say now that I don’t agree with Loppe over this. I think most of them will beg to leave, and will die.’

  ‘I am sure,’ the girl said, ‘that enough will be kept to make a profit. And how is Loppe – Lopez? – to repay you?’

  She was implacable, but he hadn’t really expected a sunburst of charity. He wondered if Bel had asked the same question. He said, ‘He will repay us as guide and interpreter. He speaks Mandingua and Jalofo and Arabic as well as Christian languages. He knows the Gambia and the lands to its east as do few other blacks whom you might pick up in Lagos or Madeira. Whomever the Fortado employs, it will be no one of that calibre, I can promise you. So, yes, you are right. We need Loppe, and he wouldn’t have come without our support over the slaves. You know we are going to be together now for four months? We are committed?’

  ‘I assumed so,’ she said. She either felt nothing, or she could cover everyth
ing she was thinking. She added, ‘I don’t expect to stay on the ship when you leave her. I can ride. I can walk.’

  ‘Among lions?’ said Diniz in an annoyed voice. ‘Among snakes? You’ll have to stay on the ship. And what about Bel?’

  Nicholas caught the edge of a glance from her, but chose to do nothing about it. She said, ‘Bel is your mother’s representative, Diniz, not mine. She makes up her own mind what she will do, and why.’ And turning back to Nicholas, she said, ‘She is your responsibility. All three of us are.’

  He said, ‘I should put it even wider than that. The two ships are my responsibility, and everyone in them. If I lead, and I suppose that I do, then private skirmishing could harm the whole expedition. Look, I don’t expect you to change, or be generous. I do ask you to hold back your grievances meantime. After the spring, I don’t care. It’s open season.’

  He ended a little more colourfully than he had meant. He had made her a speech once before. Because she wouldn’t engage in discussion he had been driven to deliver a second one. Diniz said, ‘She’ll behave. I shall answer for her.’

  There followed the kind of silence Nicholas had been punishing himself to avoid. The girl was watching him. Then she said, ‘Shall I slap him for you?’ And leaning over, she gave Diniz a tap on the cheek. ‘My self-esteem is being usefully fostered. You are not supposed to undermine it.’

  ‘You are not supposed to undermine his, either,’ said Nicholas rather quickly. ‘And I won’t be tripped into discriminating between you. You both listen to what I have to say, and you both keep your prejudices out of it. Diniz, hand me the map.’ It was time to tell them where they were going. They waited with the same air of intelligent attention he had seen worn by scholars at Louvain after a bout of professorial abuse. He had learned a lot at Louvain, including how people thought.