Order of Darkness Read online

  ‘They boil forgers?’ the girl asked with a horrified shudder.

  ‘God knows what they do to them,’ Freize said to her. ‘But sweetheart, you don’t want to find out.’

  Solemnly the alchemist nodded. ‘You are right to remind us that we are in danger. We will take the most precious things and leave tomorrow, at dawn.’

  ‘Better go tonight,’ Freize prompted him.

  ‘I am sorry for it,’ Luca said. ‘I see that you have been doing great work here. I should have loved to work with you. I should have been honoured to see the transformation from first matter to gold.’

  The man shrugged. ‘We will have to start again. But this time we start with a proven recipe. Making gold is for the greedy criminals of this world. We wanted to make life itself. That is the point of alchemy, translation from the lesser to the greater till the purest point of all. Gold is nothing, life is the great secret.’

  Luca shook his head at the waste of them packing their treasures and leaving when they were on the brink of discovery. ‘I wish to God you could tell me all that you know,’ he said.

  ‘Then we are equal, for I wish to God that you could tell me what you know, for I think you have it in you to be a great adept,’ the alchemist said gently. ‘Mortal born or changeling boy, you have the third eye.’

  ‘What?’ Freize asked. ‘What do you say he has got?’

  Drago Nacari put his forefinger to the centre of his own forehead, between his eyebrows, and then pointed to Luca’s forehead. Luca flinched as if at a touch. ‘The third eye,’ Drago said. ‘The gaze that can see the unseen things. I think you are indeed of faerie blood – you are a changeling.’

  ‘We’ve got to go,’ Freize decided, disturbed by this talk about his friend. He got to his feet and took Jacinta’s hand and kissed it. ‘We’ll do what we can to prevent Brother Peter reporting you at once. But don’t you wait upon your going – pack up at once, for your own safety.’

  She took his hand and put it to her cheek in a brief, warm gesture. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I will remember you as the sweetest thing in this extraordinary city. Truer than true gold itself, a finer thing than we could refine.’

  He flushed like a boy, and turned to the alchemist and gave him an awkward nod. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘About the breaking and entering. Work, you understand.’

  Drago Nacari nodded in return. ‘Sorry about the false coins,’ he said. ‘Work, you understand.’

  Luca went to the doorway and bowed to them both. ‘I wish you the very best,’ he said. ‘And we will not report you till tomorrow, after dawn, at the earliest. You will have till then to get away.’

  The young woman came after them, and slipped her slim hand into Freize’s pocket.

  ‘What’s this?’ he asked, pausing.

  ‘Your penny,’ she said softly. ‘I promised I would return it to you. It is as true as you.’ She raised her face to his and Freize bent down and kissed her warm lips. ‘Good luck follow you,’ she said. ‘Blessings be.’ She went back to stand beside Drago Nacari, beside their bench, in the noisome laboratory among the bubbling stills.

  Freize looked back, to get a last sight of her, and thought that they were like a lost couple heroically going down on a little boat, sunk by their own determination, then he caught up with Ishraq and Luca as they went quietly out of the front door and closed it behind them.

  The waves lapped at the stone quays as their gondola went down the small canals. ‘Drop me here,’ Luca said suddenly. ‘I want to see if Father Pietro is still at the Rialto Bridge.’

  ‘We’ll wait for you,’ Ishraq decided. The gondola took Luca to a set of stairs in the quayside and he ran lightly up and then crossed the square to where Father Pietro was seated, in his usual place, with his little table before him and his tragic roll of names unfurled.

  ‘Father Pietro, do you have news?’

  The priest leaped to his feet and came to Luca with his hands held out. ‘Praise God!’ he said. ‘Praise God, I have news. My messenger saw Bayeed and was able to take a passage on a fast ship back to me with the greatest of news.’

  ‘My father? Gwilliam Vero?’

  ‘He is found. He is found, my son!’

  A great darkness clouded Luca’s vision, he felt his head swirl. Out of the mist he felt the priest grab his arm, tap his cheek. ‘Luca? Luca Vero?’

  ‘I’m all right,’ Luca gasped. ‘I could not hear. I cannot believe what I heard! My father is alive? And can we ransom him?’

  The priest beamed at him. ‘I didn’t know you had friends in high places. You should have told me that you had a great friend.’

  ‘I don’t,’ Luca stammered. ‘I have no great friend. I am all but friendless. Until this moment I was all but an orphan. I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘A very great man had already sent a message to Bayeed, asking him if he had a Gwilliam Vero on board, telling him that he must release him to his son Luca, if requested. You know who did that?’

  Luca started to shake his head. ‘I know no one except . . . the man who told me of you, he went by the name of Radu Bey.’

  Father Pietro laughed delightedly. ‘Because that is his name. And a great name among the infidel. If you have his friendship then you are favoured by one of the greatest men in the Empire.’

  ‘I had no idea . . . I met him only once. I asked about my father and one of his slaves said he was with Bayeed. I had no idea he would think of me again. He showed no interest in me or my father, he didn’t seem to care at all. And he is the mortal enemy of my lord.’

  ‘Well, he’s no enemy of yours. He took an interest, and to great effect. Bayeed was ready for your request, he regarded it as a request from the sultan, Mehmet II himself, and he sends me this reply.’ The priest showed Luca a small piece of paper with a scrawl of black ink and a roughly stamped seal.

  Gwilliam Vero, galley slave Five English nobles

  Father Pietro frowned a little. ‘He’s kept his price at five English nobles, though their value has risen, and is still rising. That’ll cost you twelve ducats now. Last week it would have been ten.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Luca said, still breathless with the news. ‘I have funds, I have nobles.’ He shook his head again. ‘I am stunned. I am dazzled.’ He drew a breath. ‘What do we do now? Do I go to fetch him?’

  Father Pietro shook his head. ‘No, certainly not. You give me the money and I send it by my emissary to Bayeed. My man will leave tonight, pay over the money and receive the slave, your father. He’ll take him to an inn and get him a wash and some food, and some clean clothes. I find that all the men want to take a moment to return to life.’ He smiled. ‘It’s a shock you know, the rolling back of the rock from the tomb. A man needs to take a moment to come back to life. He has to learn what has happened during the passing of the years, he has to prepare himself for the world he left so long ago. It is different, you see. Sometimes a man will have losses to mourn. How long has your father been gone?’

  ‘Four years,’ Luca said. ‘That’s why I want to fetch him myself, at once.’

  ‘You only have to wait a little longer, my son. My messenger will bring your father to you.’

  ‘How long?’ Luca demanded impatiently.

  ‘If you give me the money, my agent can sail for Trieste at once. He’ll be there by tomorrow evening or at worst the next day, a day to ransom him, and get him fed and clothed, then two days’ journey home.’ The priest had been counting on his rosary beads, as an abacus. ‘Say five days in all. You will see him within the week.’

  ‘I’ll get the money,’ Luca swore, all thought of the alchemists driven from his mind. ‘I’ve got my gondola here. I’ll get the money to you.’

  ‘Before sundown. I will be here until dusk.’

  ‘At once! At once!’

  Father Pietro nodded. ‘One moment, my son,’ he said gently. ‘I would bless you.’

  Luca curbed his impatience and dropped to his knees.

  With great gent