Fools' Gold Read online

  ‘Go then,’ Isolde said excitedly. She put her hand into the pocket of her modest grey gown and pulled out a purse. ‘Here. Brother Peter gave me this, for alms for the poor and for candles at church, and for other things – who knows what – that he thought we might need: trinkets that ladies of a noble family might have. Go and get us breeches and capes and big masks!’

  Ishraq laughed, pocketed the money and went from the room.

  ‘And get me a big hat.’ Isolde slipped from the room and leaned over the marble staircase to call to her friend. ‘One that will hide my hair.’

  ‘And I’ll trade with some of your mother’s jewels!’ Ishraq called softly up the stairs.

  Isolde hesitated. ‘My mother’s jewels? Which ones?’

  ‘The rubies,’ Ishraq insisted. ‘This is our chance to make a fortune. We’ll trade in the jewels and buy English gold nobles and watch them rise in price. When they’ve doubled in value we’ll buy the rubies back and you’ll still have them plus a fortune to hire your army to march on your brother.’

  ‘We could make so much money just by trading in the nobles?’ Isolde asked, tempted at the thought.

  ‘We might,’ Ishraq said. ‘Shall I do it? Shall I go to the money changer and buy gold nobles with your rubies?’

  ‘Yes,’ Isolde said, taking a chance, tempted by the thought of a fortune easily made which might win her back her inheritance. ‘Yes, take them.’

  At the Rialto the two young men found Father Pietro in his usual place, the bustle of the crowd all around him, someone juggling with daggers nearby, and a performing dog circling slowly and mournfully, a small ball balanced on his nose, his clown-faced owner passing the hat. They did not notice Ishraq, dressed as a boy, hat pulled low over her pinned-up hair, a black mask over her eyes, transacting her business with Israel, the money changer. They did not see her get into a hired gondola and quietly go away.

  ‘This is my master,’ Freize introduced him, elbowing his way through the crowd to get to the priest. ‘This is Luca Vero’

  ‘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, y