Fools' Gold (11 page)

‘You are seeking your father,’ the Friar said gently. ‘And I am glad to tell you that I have news of him.’ He looked at Luca’s sudden pallor. ‘Ah, my son. Are you ready to hear it?’

Luca bent his head and said a swift prayer. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Tell me at once.’

‘A slave that I ransomed from Bayeed last year told me that Gwilliam Vero was serving on his ship then,’ Father Pietro said quietly. ‘He was alive and strong then, only last year. It may be that he is still slaving on the ship now.’

‘He might be alive?’ Luca repeated as if he could not believe the news. ‘Now? This very day?’

‘He might. I can send a message to Bayeed, and ask if your father is alive and if Bayeed would accept a ransom for him.’

Luca shook his head, to clear his whirling thoughts. ‘I can’t think! I can’t believe it!’

Freize put a gentle hand on his back. ‘Steady now,’ he said as if he were soothing a horse. ‘Steady.’

‘Yes. Of course,’ Luca said to the priest. ‘Please. Do it at once. When would we hear back?’

‘If Bayeed were at Constantinople—’ The priest corrected himself. ‘Istanbul as they call it now, God forgive them for taking our city, the Rome of the East, the home of God – well, if Bayeed was there it would take about two weeks to get a message to him. But you might be lucky. I heard he had come into Trieste. If that’s true, then we might get a message to him within a few days. He may even be coming to Venice.’

‘Days?’ Luca repeated. ‘He might be coming here?’

The priest put his hand gently over Luca’s clenched fist. ‘Yes, my son. You might have an answer in days. If he is in port at Trieste, and my messenger can find him, and get a ship back to us with Bayeed’s price.’

Luca and Freize exchanged one amazed glance.

‘Days,’ Luca repeated. ‘I might see my father within the week?’

‘Usually Bayeed will reply at once. But it won’t be cheap. He will ask around a
lira di grosso
for a working slave – that’s ten ducats.’ He paused. ‘That’s about five nobles.’

Luca nodded. He had mentally converted the currency in a moment, even while Father Pietro was speaking. He could not help but think of the fortune that he was carrying on this mission, but did not own: the wealth that Milord had entrusted to him, to pretend to be a trader in Venice, the gold coins that he had tested, the suspect coins made with real gold that he was ordered to buy, the share of the cargo of the ship which was even now, sails spread, coming across the seas from the east to bring a small fortune to him, the money he had been given to lay around to make the illusion of wealth. ‘I have that,’ he said quietly. ‘I have a fortune. I can pay. For the freedom of my father, I would pay that willingly.’

Freize leaned towards his ear. ‘It’s not really yours,’ he reminded his friend. ‘How will it be when Milord wants you to account for it?’

‘I have to use it!’ Luca said fiercely. ‘For my father’s freedom, I would steal it outright! But this is just borrowing. I will explain to Milord. I will make it up to him with the profit I will make trading in the English nobles.’

The priest nodded. ‘I will write tonight then, and send Bayeed an offer to pay. I expect that they will want it in English gold nobles. That is the currency they prefer, both for ransom and tribute this year. It will be five English nobles, they may settle for four and a half, the value of the English noble is rising. It would be better for us to fix the price at once. Everyone seems to think that the value of the noble is going to reach the sky.’

‘I can get the coins,’ Luca assured him. ‘I can pay them in English nobles.’

‘And I have some other news for you as well.’

Luca waited.

‘The man who had served with your father said that your father had learned where his wife had been taken. He knew that your mother was enslaved as a house servant, to a family that served the emperor. Your father had seen them buy her at the auction before Bayeed bought him. It may be that she lives, that she is working for them still. If they have moved with the court then they will be in Istanbul now, God forgive them for stealing our city.’

Luca almost staggered under the news. Freize took his arm. ‘Steady,’ he said. ‘Steady now.’ Carefully, he put Luca on his feet, patted his back. ‘You all right, Sparrow?’

Luca brushed his hand away. ‘My mother?’

‘This is old news,’ the friar cautioned. ‘Your father said that he saw her sold to a man who looked like he might be a good master, years ago; but of course she might not still be with them now.’

‘But you said that she was sold to a family who were connected to the sultan’s court?’

‘Yes. And that is a good service, easy work. I could write to one of the court officials and inquire for her,’ the priest said quietly. He lifted his pen. ‘What is her name?’

‘Clara,’ Luca said. ‘Clara Vero. I can hardly believe this. I cannot believe this. I was told they were dead when I was no more than a boy of fourteen. They were taken from our farm, just a little place. Nobody even witnessed the raid. For four years I have given up all hope of ever seeing them again. I have grieved for them ever since. I have feared that I was an orphan without parents.’

‘God is merciful,’ the old priest said gently. ‘Praise Him.’

‘It’s quite a miracle,’ Freize confirmed. ‘Amen. Bear up, Sparrow.’

Luca bowed his head and whispered a prayer. ‘When shall I come to you again, Father?’ he asked.

‘I will send to you as soon as I have news, any news at all,’ the priest said gently. ‘It will be a few days before we know of your father, months before we can trace your mother. You will have to learn patience. Your servant tells me you are living in the palazzo of the de Longhi family?’

‘Yes,’ Luca nodded. ‘Yes. Send to me there.’

‘You have come a long way from a little village, from your farm,’ the priest remarked. ‘Clearly, you have enjoyed much worldly success.’

Luca, shaken by the news of his parents, was quite at a loss. He could not find a ready lie.

‘My master has been lucky in trade,’ Freize interrupted swiftly. ‘We have come to Venice to trade in gold, for it is his speciality. And we have a share in a cargo which is coming in from Russia. But he was determined to see you and ask you if you could find his father. He’s a most devoted son.’

The priest smiled. ‘Perhaps you will give some of your wealth to the Church,’ he said to Luca. ‘There are many Christians who could be ransomed back to their family, just like your father and mother, if we only had the money for their ransom.’

‘I will,’ Luca promised, shaken with emotion. Freize saw that he hardly knew what he was saying. ‘I will. I would want to be generous. I would want others to come home too. God knows, if I had my way, there would be no men and women in slavery and no fatherless children waiting for them.’

‘God be with you then, my son.’ The priest drew the sign of the cross in the air. ‘And may He guide your way as you trade in gold and sell your cargo. For that is a very worldly business and you will need to guard yourself against criminals.’

‘And no need to tell all of Venice our business,’ Freize said quietly. ‘The little farm then – the great fortune now: my master doesn’t like it talked about.’

‘I don’t gossip,’ the priest said gently. ‘My trade is in information about poor lambs lost from the flock. My work depends upon my discretion.’

‘Fair enough,’ Freize nodded and turned to follow Luca. ‘Much gold around here, is there?’ Freize asked nonchalantly.

‘I have never seen so many English gold nobles in my life before,’ the priest said. ‘Truly God is good. For the Ottomans are demanding to be paid in gold nobles and many people have given me gold nobles for my work, and their price rises every day so I can buy more souls with the lucky coins. I have traded all my savings into the gold nobles so that I can do my work, praise Him.’

Back at the house Ishraq dashed in the side door to the street just as the gondola carrying Freize and Luca nosed into the watergate that opened into the front of the house. She ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, to the girls’ floor as the men were walking together up from the water level to the main floor. She bundled capes and breeches and sturdy shoes under her bed, and showed Isolde the purse of gold coins.

‘How much did you get for the rubies?’ Isolde asked quickly in a whisper.

‘Ten and a half gold nobles,’ Ishraq replied. ‘It was the best I could do.’

Isolde gulped at the thought of speculating with her mother’s jewels. ‘I hope they gain value,’ she said nervously. ‘They were my mother’s greatest treasure.’

‘Me too,’ said Ishraq. ‘But everyone says that the nobles will be worth more, even tomorrow. People are gambling on good prices tomorrow even now, as the market is closing. We could sell them at a profit tomorrow, and get the rubies back.’

Isolde crossed her fingers and tapped them against Ishraq’s forehead in an old silly game from their childhood.

‘Lucky luck,’ Ishraq replied. ‘You go on down to him, I’ll put this purse under the mattress.’

As Isolde entered the room Luca’s face lit up and he took her hands, as he told her that he thought he might be able to ransom his parents. ‘This is wonderful news,’ she said. ‘This is the greatest thing that could happen for you.’

For a moment they stood hand-clasped, and he realised that he had been hurrying home just so that he could tell her this news, that as soon as he had heard it, he had wanted her to know too.

‘You understand,’ he said wonderingly. ‘You understand what this means to me.’

‘Because I lost my father too,’ she said gently. ‘Only mine has gone from me forever, into death. So I do understand how you can long for him, how his absence has been a grief for all of your life. But if your father can return to you, if your mother can come home, what a miracle that would be!’

‘I would leave the Church,’ Luca said almost to himself. ‘If they were to come home I would leave the Church to live with them at our farm once again. I would be so proud to be their son and work in their fields. I would want nothing more.’

‘But your work – the Order of Darkness? They say that you have a great talent for understanding, that you must go throughout the world and read the signs for the end of days. Brother Peter says it is your gift and your calling. He says you are the greatest inquirer he has ever seen at work, and he has travelled and advised many Inquirers.’

He smiled at the praise. ‘Really? Did he say that?’

‘Yes!’ she smiled ruefully. ‘When he was scolding me. He even told me that I must not distract you from doing God’s work. That you have a calling, a vocation. He says you are exceptional.’

‘Even so, I would go back to my father and mother if they were to be free and come home. Of course, I would complete my mission here, I would not leave anything undone. But if my parents were to come home I would never want to be parted from them again. I wouldn’t want to be exceptional, I would want to be an ordinary son.’

She nodded. Of all of them, Isolde understood homesickness. On the death of her father, her brother had cheated her out of her lands and the castle that was to have been hers. ‘But you know, we can never really go back,’ she said gently to him. ‘Even if I raise an army from my godfather’s son and defeat my brother and get my lands returned to me, even if I ride into my own castle gate and call it mine once more, it will never be the same. Nothing can ever be as it was. My father would still be dead. My brother would still have betrayed me. I would still be alone in the world but for Ishraq. I would still have known grief in the loss of my father and anger in the betrayal of my brother. My heart would still be a little hardened. I would not be the same, even if the castle still stood.’

‘I know,’ he said. ‘You’re right. But if my parents could return home, or if you could live where you belong, then, in our own ways, in our own places, we could make new lives for ourselves. New lives in the old places. New lives where we truly belong. We could start again, from where we began.’

She understood at once that their lives would take them in very different directions. ‘Oh Luca, if I were to win Lucretili back, I would live very far from your farm.’

‘And I would be such a small farmer, I could never even speak to such a grand person as the Lady of Lucretili. You would ride past my farmhouse and not even look at me. I would be a dirty farmer’s boy behind an ox and a plough and you would be on a great horse, riding by.’