Fools' Gold Read online

  ‘Too late!’ Isolde whispered. ‘We’ll have to go inside.’

  They slipped back into the hall, closing the front door behind them.

  ‘Out through the garden,’ Ishraq hissed. ‘Quickly, or they’ll see us as they come in.’

  She drew Isolde through the house as Freize bolted the door to the street.

  ‘My God, what is that smell?’ Isolde hesitated and put her hand over her mouth as they went past the open door to the storeroom. ‘It’s like death.’

  ‘Quick,’ Ishraq said, closing the door and leading the two of them through the living quarters and out through the door into the little courtyard garden.

  ‘You go,’ she said. ‘I’ll lock up behind you and come out through the bedroom window.’

  ‘I’ll go!’ Freize volunteered. ‘You get out.’

  He was too late. Ishraq was already racing up the stairs to the upper room. Freize turned to Isolde. ‘We’ll have to get over the wall,’ he whispered. ‘The garden door is locked and they have the key.’ He cupped his hand for Isolde’s shoe. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Like getting up on a horse!’ Isolde stepped up and he threw her upwards so that she caught the branch of the tree and heaved herself up to the top of the wall. Arduously, Freize hauled himself up beside her, and then paused. They both clung to the top of the wall, and watched horrified, as below them, the Nacaris, father and daughter walked to the garden door, produced a key and let themselves in. They opened the door to the house, and went inside.

  ‘What can we do?’ Isolde whispered. ‘We have to get her out!’

  ‘Wait,’ Freize advised.

  Ishraq, in the house, went swift-footed silently up the stairs. She heard the garden door open and the Nacaris come in. She heard Jacinta remark on the coldness of the day and then she heard, frighteningly clear, Drago say: ‘What’s that noise?’

  Silently, Ishraq slid across the treacherous floorboards to the bedroom window and eased herself out. She flung herself down the spiral stone staircase to the garden and saw her two friends, poised on the top of the wall.

  ‘Get down!’ she hissed. ‘They’re in the house. They’ll see us if they look out of the window!’

  Freize jumped down into the street and reached up for Isolde, who dropped down into his arms as Ishraq stretched for a low bending bough, and swarmed her way upwards. As soon as she was at the top of the wall she too lowered herself down and then jumped clear.

  They were facing a small tributary canal and further down the water was a little swing wooden bridge.

  ‘This way,’ Isolde said, pulling up the hood of her robe over her blonde hair, and leading the way at a brisk walk. She wiped her face with her sleeve. ‘I haven’t run so fast since we left Lucretili,’ she remarked to Ishraq.

  ‘You always were fast,’ her friend said. ‘Faster than me. Now I should teach you to fight.’

  Isolde shook her head in a smiling denial.

  ‘She doesn’t like the thought of hurting people,’ Ishraq explained to Freize.

  The three of them crossed the bridge and started along the quay on the far side.

  ‘I don’t think I will ever have the stomach for fighting,’ Isolde remarked. ‘I can’t bear it. Even that scramble has left me trembling. And now, I’d better walk home on my own.’

  ‘Will you be all right?’ Freize asked, torn between his desire to escort her to safety and maintaining the deception of being Ishraq’s servant.

  ‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘I tremble very easily, but I’m not a coward.’

  ‘I should go with you,’ he hesitated.

  Ishraq laughed. ‘If there’s any trouble she can run,’ she said. ‘She can certainly run faster than you.’

  Isolde smiled. ‘I’ll go on ahead and see you at home.’

  Freize and Ishraq strolled home together, along the Grand Canal, Ishraq careful to swagger ahead of Freize like a young prince, right until the moment when they came to the quay which ran to the side door of their house. Then she glanced to left and right, checked that there was no one at the windows and no one on the canal, and slipped down the street and scurried into the side door.

  Isolde leaped up from where she had been sitting at the door and hugged her friend. ‘Good! I was waiting for you. The others are home too.’ She called across the stone hall. ‘They’re back!’ as Freize came through the side door and Luca and Brother Peter opened the door to their rooms.

  ‘Come in,’ Luca said. ‘How did you get on?’

  Brother Peter recoiled in horror from Ishraq’s young prince costume. ‘She should change her clothes,’ he said, covering his eyes. ‘It’s heresy for a woman to dress as a man.’

  ‘I’ll be one moment,’ Ishraq promised.

  She raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time, just like a boy, and they could hear her hurling her clothes into a chest and scrabbling into a gown. She came running downstairs with her dark hair tumbling down, and only at Brother Peter’s scandalised glare did she twist it into a casual knot and pin it at the nape of her neck. Luca smiled at her. Anyone but the old clerk would have been struck by her agile grace in boys’ clothes and her careless beauty when she was dressed once again as a girl in a conventional gown. ‘I like you in costume,’ he said.

  ‘It’s against God’s will and the teaching of the church,’ Brother Peter said. ‘And certainly a doorway to sin.’

  ‘Well, it was useful,’ Ishraq defended herself. ‘So tell me about the square, was everything all right?’

  ‘Everything,’ Luca said shortly. ‘We gambled, she won as usual, took a small purse of silver coins for the morning’s work and gave them to her father. We spoke to the money changer and he said he would have enough nobles for us when the ship comes in. He says he has made an arrangement and has about a thousand gold nobles to hand. We saw Father Pietro in church. He’s had no reply yet. Then it was dreadful when we came out of church and saw that they had left early. And then Isolde was gone too! But I see you’re safe. How did you get on? Did you have to break into the house?’

  ‘I got in through an open window,’ Ishraq said. ‘And then I let Freize in. They may have suspicions, they might have thought that they heard something; but they can’t be sure that anyone was ever inside.’

  ‘They don’t have a servant – well, they can’t have one. They daren’t have one. The storeroom is completely devoted to alchemy. It reeks of magic and decay. Any servant would report them at once. In the main room, where they study, there were more pages like the one they brought to us. There were about ten pages that I could see, I couldn’t read any of them. Plants that are unknown, language that you can’t even spell out. And I copied this,’ she put the piece of paper in front of Luca. ‘I thought it was odd that they should have such a seal.’

  He scrutinised it. ‘I wouldn’t know whose seal it is,’ he said.

  They both turned to Isolde, whose family had their own crest. She recognised it at once. ‘Oh! That’s the seal of one of my godparents,’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Count Wladislaw? Of Wallachia?’ Brother Peter asked respectfully.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘Another one. My godmother.’

  ‘How many do you have?’ asked Freize. ‘How many does a girl need?’

  She shrugged with a smile. ‘My father was very very well connected. This godmother was very grand indeed. She was the wife of John, Duke of Bedford, Regent of France. She was Jacquetta, the Dowager Duchess.’

  ‘Who?’ Freize asked.

  ‘Her husband was brother to the great king of England, Henry V, who conquered France for England. John the Duke was regent in France when the little prince of England came to the throne,’ she said. ‘When the French rose up under their king Charles VII, he fought them, and he captured their leader, Joan of Arc.’

  ‘Yes,’ Luca said, recognising a part of the story that he knew. ‘I know who you mean, I’ve heard of him. He burned Joan of Arc as a witch.’

  ‘The Church judged that she was guilty of witchcraft and heresy,�€