Scales of Gold by Dorothy Dunnett

today had been some bread and cheese, brought to him when the financial negotiation with the boatyard owner had reached its spectacular apogee. Before that, he had spent some time at the customs building, where the officers hadagreed to normal rates for everything but the shells. Then the war tax, of course, went on top. He had found his own clerks checking the sugar and salt, and waited until they had turned over and labelled the damasks. Then, business done, he had taken them all off to the tavern for some wine, customs searchers included, but hadn’t offered them food.
    From there, he had gone to the Palace, in order freely to beggar himself. And after the boatyard, of course, had come his call on the Cardinal. It had been a grinding sort of day. It was a slight want of food which had spoiled his handling of Godscalc, on top of the voyage from Cyprus. Cyprus, island of love and prostitution and unforgettable misery.
    In Cyprus now, the river-beds would be parched and the flowers ghosts of themselves. The lemons would hang in their leaves. And the sheets of his bed would smell of spice and incense and the warm flesh of orange, and woman.
    He said, ‘I really must find something to eat,’ and then laughed and said, ‘No, I mustn’t.’ There was his little spy to collect, and Julius and Tilde waiting for him, being fed anxious untruths by Gregorio.
    Loppe said, ‘Here’s the tavern. Five minutes won’t matter.’
    It was the place where they had left Gregorio. Though it was now crowded, they were offered wine and meat, which they ate outside. Gregorio was not there, but had left them a message. Nicholas read it aloud.
    ‘He says he met Julius and the girl on the landing-stage and told them we’d gone to visit the Bishop of Torcello, who has a mansion here. The Bishop of …?’
    ‘Julius couldn’t disprove it,’ said Loppe. With Nicholas, he didn’t use titles.
    ‘All right. While we’re supposed to be at the Bishop’s, Gregorio will take the other two to the Santa Maria gardens – where are they? – and entertain them until we manage to come. He suggests that before we arrive, we collect the man that we captured and send him under proper authority back to the Rialto. Either that, or to the Podestà here. Signed Gregorio, lawyer. He’s annoyed.’
    ‘It isn’t surprising,’ Loppe said. ‘What will you do? What he suggests is no good. You don’t want this fellow telling his story.’
    ‘He won’t. He’ll go back with us, and by the time he tells it, it won’t matter. We’ll go to the Baroviers’ now and transfer him and his guards to the boat. What in the name of the devil did they put in that meat?’
    ‘Brimstone?’ said Loppe. It was curt. Nicholas usually had a respect for Loppe’s warnings. On the other hand, if everybody felt like being offended tonight, it was nothing to him.
    In the short time they had been indoors, true night had fallen. This time the lamps at the mooring posts shone yellow and bright and there were blundering moths in the air, along with the odours of food and wet timber and weed. Below them, the water was pink from the fires that still burned in the yards behind the occasional house. Roof-tops and chimneys stood black against the low glare; and above, there hung the exquisite counterfeit of a sunset, cloud-packed, released each night freshly blown from the kilns.
    His gaze on the heavens, Nicholas crashed into a solid, unmoving object which made no effort to get out of his way.
    ‘So here you are,’ Julius said. ‘How very strange. The Bishop of Torcello had never heard of you.’

Chapter 5
    F ROM ONE’S EARLIEST recollection, from boyhood, Julius had looked the same: bright-eyed and stalwart and inquisitive.
    The Barovier house was just beside them. Nicholas drew a long breath and said, ‘You came to look for us?’
    ‘Taking the air,’ Julius said. ‘I left Tilde and Gregorio at the gardens. Gregorio thought it might be quite dangerous for me to go for a