The Long Sword(136)

            Perhaps you gentlemen would have me hate him as my rival, but is that the way of a knight? We admired the same woman, because she was made to be admired. In beauty and in courage she had no peer and it would have been as unjust to hate the king because he loved Father Pierre.

            At any rate, it is because of our unspoken rivalry for the Countess d’Herblay that I began to be included in the king’s private council.

            At the end of April, we had word from Genoa that they had agreed to the stipulations signed by Father Pierre in January and that the indemnity, a grotesque payment from Cyprus to Genoa for alleged injuries, had been paid.

            The king, in concert with Father Pierre, set a sailing date and a rendezvous off Rhodes, where the Order had its headquarters.

            As the Venetians made their final preparations, so I was stronger and stronger, and so I had to face my poverty.

            I had neither horse nor arms. In fact, I didn’t even own a sword. The crusade was a month from making sail, and I lacked the tools of my trade.

            My first rescuer was my Bohemian armourer. I went to him and he fitted me for another complete harness; not, I am saddened to say, as pretty as the first one, now broken up among thugs. But pretty enough.

            I wrote him a bill, promising payment even in the event of my death, but after a few days, I took the note to Nerio, sat him down with wine in his hand, and asked for a loan.

            He read my note of hand to Master Jiri and sneered. ‘You are a fool, Sir Knight. How often have I told you that I can loan you money?’ He shrugged.

            ‘If I die on crusade—’ I said.

            ‘Pah! I’ve taken worse risks with dice. Here is a note on our house for a thousand ducats – let us hear no more!’ He waved at me airily.

            A thousand ducats!

            ‘Could you purchase us a ship?’ I asked.

            Ser Nerio leaned back. His eyes were already on a fetching young woman with carmine lips who wore the red dress of her profession very tight indeed. We were in the wine-arcade by the Grand Canal.

            ‘Oh, brother in arms, I have done better. The Corner family has built and manned a warship-a new galia grossa. They intend to put her in the pilgrim trade after we take Jerusalem.’ He shrugged. ‘Whether we take Jerusalem or not, I suspect.’ His eyes flashed, and the scarlet girl began to make her way towards us.

            Now that he had her, Nerio turned back to me. ‘We will be aboard that ship, and not stacked in the hold, either. The Corners almost worship you. And they are fond of money.’

            The scarlet girl came and put her hands on his shoulders. I smiled at him. ‘Have you ever been in love?’ I asked.

            Nerio smiled. ‘Every hour, brother.’



            I paid Jiri in full. He loaned me a sword and a dagger – good plain work from Germany.

            Fra Ricardo – less close-mouthed about the sins of others then Fra Peter – had let me know that it was King Peter who was keeping the Count d’Herblay ten miles from his wife. ‘He has libelled the Count to the Doge,’ Fra Ricardo said with a disapproving frown, ‘so that to the sin of adultery he adds the sin of bearing false witness.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Gossip links your name with hers as well. No good will come of your attachment to such a woman.’

            ‘I hold the Countess d’Herblay in the highest esteem as a true lady.’ I met his eye. The beating had changed more than just my face. ‘The Count d’Herblay is a coward, a poltroon, and an enemy of Father Pierre and the crusade.’

            Fra Ricardo was not a worldly man, but he was no fool and he fair worshipped Father Pierre. ‘Ah!’ he said. ‘Is he so?’