The Saracen: The Holy War

by Robert Shea

  XLIX

  Feeling as if he would burst into flames with anger, Simon stood under abright blue sky dappled with high white clouds on a wooden quay atLivorno, two weeks after leaving Orvieto. The masts of small boats linedthe waterfront like a forest of tree trunks stripped of their leaves.

  _If I were traveling with a proper entourage, a few knights and a troopof archers, by God's wounds they'd carry me. These shipmasters are toodamned independent._

  One large ship, anchored midway between the shore and the arm of theharbor, looked to Simon like his last chance. Leaving Thierry on thequay, he dropped a silver denaro into the callused palm of a man with adinghy and had himself rowed out to the big ship.

  From what he knew of ships, this was a middle-size buss, sitting high inthe water, with rounded prow and stern. The name _Constanza_ was paintedon the stern. Human muscle moved it; Simon counted ten oarholes on eachside.

  As he trod the catwalk from the prow of the ship to the stern castlewhere the captain stood, Simon saw no one sitting at the oars and nochains. So the ship must be rowed by its crew, free mariners. A squaresail, furled at present, mounted on a single mast amidships would helpthe rowers when the wind was right.

  The captain, whose bald scalp was brown as well-tanned leather, boweddeeply when Simon presented himself. He was half Simon's height, twiceas broad, and all muscle. He smiled, showing a full set of bright whiteteeth when Simon explained that he needed passage to Marseilles.

  "Bon seigner, you must understand that it is not a simple matter toengage a ship of this size to carry you wherever you wish to go." Thelanguage the captain spoke was neither French nor Italian. Simonrecognized it at once, and he felt a little inner leap, because it wasthe tongue his parents spoke, the Langue d'Oc, the speech of Aquitaine,Toulouse, and Provence.

  "Of course I understand that," Simon replied in the same tongue. "But ifyou--"

  "Bon seigner," the captain interrupted, "there are no words to describehow honored I would be to carry you. And no words to describe my griefthat I cannot take you." That could be taken two ways, Simon thought.

  "I am prepared to pay prodigiously, Captain," said Simon with sinkingheart.

  If the captain noticed that Simon was speaking in his own tongue, he didnot remark on it. "I do not own this ship. That is the point, you see,bon seigner. The owners have instructed me to wait here for a cargo ofolive oil, which I must take to Cyprus. So I cannot leave now, and whenI do leave, I must sail away from France."

  The captain was respectful enough, but Simon sensed a hidden glee in hisrefusal.

  "But you have not heard how much I will offer you," he said, desperate.

  The bald man shut his eyes as if in pain. "It does not matter. Merce vosquier, forgive me, but I have a duty to those who have entrusted thisship to me. Surely there must be some other captain in this harbor whowill let you make him wealthy."

  "I have been to every other captain," said Simon. "All have refused mefor one reason or another. Yours is the only ship left."

  The captain of the _Constanza_ spread his hands. "Ah, well, Pisa is onlya little farther north, and there are many more ships docked at itsquays along the Arno. You are bound to find one that will carry you. Or,failing that, this is the best time of the year to make the journey toFrance overland. The roads are good."

  Simon knew that Pisa had been a Ghibellino city for generations. Word ofhis coming might even have reached enemies in Pisa. He was sure that heand Thierry had been followed along the road they had taken up theTyrrhenean seacoast. The Pisans would be only too glad to put an end tohis mission, and quite possibly to him. And following the endlesslywinding coastal road--which would require him to pass dangerously closeto Pisa--it would take him a month or more to get to French territory.He decided that this captain meant him nothing but ill. He broke offabruptly and made his way back to the rowboat.

  A shout of laughter came floating across the water from the _Constanza_as the boatman rowed him back, putting Simon in an even fouler mood.

  Looking toward shore, he saw a man in a short, dark cape standing on thedock with Thierry.

  The boat tied up at a piling, and Simon gave the rower a second denaroand climbed up a short ladder to the quay. With a jolt of anger herecognized the man talking to Thierry as Sordello.

  _What the devil is he doing here?_

  Instantly Sordello was kneeling at Simon's feet, clutching at his handand kissing it and weeping copiously.

  "I followed you all the way from Orvieto, Your Signory. I did not makemyself known to you before this because I feared you would send meaway."

  "Get up," said Simon impatiently. "We thought we were being followed byenemies. We took unnecessary precautions, thanks to you." This utterlyunwelcome encounter with Sordello, added to the impossibility of findinga ship, filled him with an almost uncontrollable rage.

  "Your Signory, on the roads of Italy there are no unnecessaryprecautions." The man's expression shifted in the blink of an eye fromfawning tears to a cocksure grin showing his missing teeth.

  "What are you doing here?" Simon demanded. "I did not give you leave tostop watching Cardinal Ugolini's household."

  "Circumstances gave me leave, Your Signory, as I was just explaining tomy good friend Thierry here." Thierry looked startled at being sodescribed. "The woman Ana who carried my reports to you betrayed me. Shetold Giancarlo, the henchman of the merchant from Trebizond, that I wasin your service. That Giancarlo is the sort who opens a second mouth inyour throat before you can explain yourself with the first one."

  "Does anyone else in Orvieto know where I am going?"

  _Good God, was he lurking about when I was with Sophia?_

  Sordello looked at him out of the corners of his eyes. "No one knew,Your Signory. I had to think it out for myself. I heard you had gone toPerugia. But, I asked myself, whyever would you do that? There isnothing in Perugia until the pope moves there. What, then, would beimportant enough to make you leave off watching over the Tartars? Amessage for Count Charles, I guessed--or perhaps for your king--tooimportant to be carried by anyone but yourself. Then I had to decidewhich road you'd take. Directly north would lead to Siena, and we haveall heard that an army of Ghibellini is gathering in Siena to attackOrvieto. So, you must be headed for the coast. And, as we see, myguesses all turned out right." He finished up with a broad,self-satisfied grin.

  How could a man so often foolish also be so shrewd? Simon turned andstared out at the water of the harbor, a deeper blue than the sky. Whata nuisance this fellow was! Turning up now, when Simon had problemenough trying to find a way to get to France. Simon momentarily sawhimself running Sordello through with his scimitar and kicking the bodyinto the harbor.

  _And that story about Ana betraying him is almost surely a lie. She isnot at all the sort who would do such a thing. Probably he himself didsomething stupid that gave him away._

  Sordello broke in on his thoughts. "Thierry tells me you want to sail toMarseilles, Your Signory." He pointed to the high-sided, round-hulledship that Simon had just left. "That buss you were on out there, is thatnot the _Constanza_? I think I know the master--his name is Guibert. Didyou arrange passage with him?"

  Grudgingly Simon told Sordello of his failure with the captain of thebig ship. Sordello grunted.

  "It is not right that a man of your distinction and wealth and gentlebirth should have to go up and down the dockside begging for a ship."Simon despised the flattery but could not help agreeing with it. Hissituation was indeed embarrassing.

  "It is past midday, Your Signory," Sordello continued. "Thierry tells meyou are staying at the Hare. A good inn, I know it well. You can get adecent noonday meal there for a denier or two. Meanwhile, let me try myluck. I warrant I will find a ship for you before you finish your lastcup of wine."

  Tired, hungry, and discouraged, Simon thought: _At least it will give mean excuse to rest._

  And Sordello had not yet asked him for money or employment. That was arelief, but Simon told himself to
be ready; the begging would start soonenough.

  * * * * *

  Feeling more relaxed, Simon was draining his third cup of red wine whenSordello reappeared. Bread, cheese, and a stew of goose, onions, andcabbage for Simon and Thierry had cost twelve denari. Simon suspectedthe price had gone up when the host saw the scarlet silk cape andgold-embroidered purple surcoat he had worn in the vain hope ofimpressing the ships' captains.

  "Being cheated and lied to is a normal part of traveling," he toldThierry. "If you wish to avoid it, stay home. One must be philosophicalabout it."

  "Your Signory!" Simon saw Sordello's burly figure silhouetted againstthe blue sky in the open doorway of the inn. He waved him in.

  "Success!" Sordello sat down at their table without asking permission."We have passage on a large ship sailing north and west along the coast,and stopping not just at Marseilles, but at Aigues-Mortes, whence wecan travel north through the Rhone valley." Simon noticed the "we" butsaid nothing. "It takes on a cargo of woolen cloth and silk and spicesthis afternoon, and it leaves tomorrow at sunup. We can board ouranimals and sleep on the ship tonight."

  "How much will this cost--us--Sordello?" said Simon, his improved moodmaking him feel a bit like joking.

  A quick glance from Sordello's bloodshot eyes showed he understood thatSimon understood. "Thirty florins, Your Signory. Oh, and I promised himan additional forty-five florins when we get to Aigues-Mortes. Thatlittle extra after the passage helps guarantee that you get where youwant to go."

  Thierry whistled. "Seventy-five florins! We could buy five more horsesfor that."

  Sordello shrugged. "But more horses would not get you as far and as fastas that ship will. And it is no more than Count Simon would have had topay if he had done the bargaining himself."

  "Less," Simon admitted. In his desperation he had actually been thinkingof offering Guibert a flat hundred florins.

  _Wait! What is happening here?_ he asked himself suddenly. When he hadfirst seen Sordello this morning, he had fully intended to turn him awayhere in Livorno. Now he was paying his passage to France. Again he wasbeing taken advantage of.

  He leaned forward suddenly, planting his folded arms on the table.

  "But why must I take you, Sordello, eh? What further use are you to me?Can I not save some florins if I leave you on the dock here?"

  Sordello looked pained, brushing the curly gray hair back from hisforehead. "What I have just accomplished shows Your Signory how useful Ican be."

  "Thus far you have nearly ruined my mission by attempting to murder anArmenian prince--"

  "That was more than a year ago, Your Signory."

  "And you have failed to learn anything useful as my agent in Ugolini'shousehold."

  "Your Signory! If not for me, you would have been totally unprepared forthe attack on the Monaldeschi palace."

  Simon saw that Sordello's rough skin was reddening. His bad temper wasthreatening to break through.

  It was true, though, that Sordello's warning about the Filippeschiattack by itself made up for all the man's misdeeds.

  The mention of Ugolini's household brought back the pain of thatparting from Sophia. He pictured again that dizzying moment when healmost possessed her, remembered how he had poured out all his secretsto her. He saw again her tears and remembered his own, that he had shedafter she ran from him. The memory made him feel like weeping now.

  Hoping to sound casual, Simon said, "The cardinal's niece--I believe hername is Sophia. Did you see her before you left Orvieto?"

  Sordello's discolored eyes met Simon's. "No, Your Signory. I have seenlittle of her since the night of the Filippeschi uprising."

  _Damn this gap-toothed brigand!_

  Simon continued to pretend to be casual. He stood up and yawned. Thewine made him feel less in control of his feelings than he liked.

  "Let us go and see this ship you have found for us."

  "Your Signory, you have not told me whether you will take me back intoyour service."

  Simon shook his head, as if tormented by gnats. "After we see the ship."

  Sordello sighed and led the way out of the inn. They crossed thecobble-paved roadway that led along Livorno's waterfront, Simonbreathing deeply of the salt-smelling air to clear his head.

  Sordello pointed. "There it is."

  He was pointing toward the same big, ungainly buss that Simon hadvisited earlier, whose captain had refused Simon.

  "But he said he was going to Cyprus!"

  "He lied to you," said Sordello. "I know the man. Guibert was shipmasterfor a boatload of us mercenaries in the last war between Pisa and Genoa.He feared that if you were to travel on his ship, you might find himout."

  "Find out what?"

  "He is one of those Languedoc heretics who hate the Church and theFrench nobility, a follower of the Waldensian heresy. He was imprisonedonce and sentenced to death in Montpellier. He recanted his heresy andwas released after signing over all that he possessed to the Church. Butthen he came to Italy, made a new start, and backslid to Waldensianism.If the Inquisition got him now, he would go to the stake even if herecanted a thousand times."

  "Then why has he agreed to carry us?" To think, the man had seen Simonas an enemy. Simon, who had inherited his Languedoc parents' loathing ofthe persecution of heretics.

  "I told him that if he did not take us where we wanted to go, I wouldtell the officers of the Inquisition here in Livorno about him," saidSordello blandly.

  "What!" Simon was outraged.

  Sordello looked hurt. "Surely, Your Signory does not see any wrong inforcing a heretic to do a good turn for the pope and the king.Especially when it means he gets to go unpunished. So we do our duty,but with a leavening of charity."

  For Simon to say more would reveal too much about himself and hisfamily. Fuming, he bit his lip. But another objection came to him.

  "We will have to take turns standing guard the whole voyage," he said."That captain will want to slit our throats to make sure his secret issafe."

  "We would have to stand guard anyway, Your Signory. A sea captain knowsno law but his own greed as soon as he puts out from shore. If you canpay him seventy-five florins, that tells him you must be carrying agreat deal more money. But I have insured our safety another way. I havetold him that an old friend of mine here in Livorno knows his secret,and if that friend does not receive a message from me in due courseassuring him of our safety, he will report Guibert to the Inquisition.Guibert would never be able to come back to Livorno, his home base, andhe would not really be safe anywhere in Italy."

  Simon shook his head angrily. "I like none of it."

  "Even the greatest barons, even kings, must put up with much they do notlike," said Sordello sententiously, "if they are to get anything done."

  "As you said before, Monseigneur," said Thierry in a comforting tone, "aman must be philosophical."

  "Philosophical, yes," said Simon wearily. He could, he supposed, affordto be philosophical. If the heretic sea captain did not manage to killthem, in three or four days he would be in France, on his way to findKing Louis. All these unsavory doings, indignities, and discomfortswould mean nothing if his mission ended in triumph.

  The thought of the King's gratitude, of Uncle Charles's respect, of theway the tale would spread among the noblesse of France, bringing him newhonor, sent a thrill of pride through him.

  At last he would have proven himself.