The Merchant of Dreams (Night's Masque, #2)(108)

"Hmm. Then bring her to me here, tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"I must either go ashore soon or leave. That is also the Venetian law. Tomorrow."

"Very well." Mal looked around. "It were best done after nightfall, when fewer eyes are around to see."

"Agreed."

They bowed again, and Hennaq disappeared up the rope ladder. Mal told the gondolier to return to shore. Tomorrow night. That did not give him a lot of time to work out a plan. On the other hand, the sooner this were over, the better. He did not trust himself to keep a secret from Olivia for long.

Coby sat on the end of the bed, listening in appalled horror to Sandy and Ned's story.

"You want to rob a dead man?" she said at last.

"It's not like he needs the necklace," Ned replied.

"Neither do you. Sandy has his own spirit-guard."

Sandy hefted the pouch, which rattled faintly. "This is naught but a makeshift substitute. What I seek are my clanbeads, taken from me when my last body was murdered."

"You could make more," Coby said. "That's what Ruviq said he would do, when he lost his."

"I am no child." Sandy's face was like thunder. "My clan-beads are centuries old, some of them, given to me by fathers long turned to dust. Wearing them marks me as tjirzadhen, one of the Many Times Born. They cannot be made anew."

"But how are you going to get them back, now Bragadin is dead?"

"I am sure I can persuade his widow–"

"Oh no. We've had enough of your magic, thank you. Besides, it's not safe with this Olivia woman around."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"We'll find a way." She looked at the two other men. "Won't we?"

Ned and Gabriel made noises of agreement.

"Very well," Sandy said. "I shall leave it to you to arrange it. I am going down to the garden to read, it is too hot in here."

When he had gone, Ned groaned.

"What did you say that for? I've had enough of sneaking around this city, I'm not going to risk being arrested again."

"We could just ask his widow, couldn't we?" Gabriel said. "She might be willing to sell it."

Ned broke into a grin. "Hendricks can ask her, one woman to another."

"Me?" Why did all her adventures of late turn on her adopting female guise?

"If you prefer, I could dress up," Gabriel said. "A good shave and a layer of ceruse, and I am sure I could pass."

"Don't be ridiculous," Coby said.

"It's not ridiculous," Ned said. "Venetian women never go anywhere alone. Gabriel could pretend to be a courtesan, and you his – I mean her – maidservant."

"Why must I be the maidservant? I am an actual woman, after all."

Ned gave her an old-fashioned look. "You're also a blushing virgin, whereas Gabe here…"

Gabriel threw a wadded up sheet of paper at him. "Are you calling me a strumpet? You can throw stones, Ned Faulkner–"

"Enough!" Coby glared at both of them.

"Anyway it'll never work," Gabriel said at last. "Neither of us speaks more than a few words of Italian, for a start."

"So you're an English courtesan, here to learn from your Venetian sisters."

"I still think it's a stupid idea," Coby muttered. "Anyway, why would an English courtesan be visiting Bragadin's widow?"

"Simple," Ned said. "Everyone knows that Olivia was Bragadin's mistress. But she's in mourning now too. So, she's sent one of her courtesan friends to request the return of the necklace Bragadin was having valued for her."

"It'll never work."

"Of course it will work. Won't it, Gabe?"

"We will do our best," the actor replied. "It can do no harm, at any rate."

"Very well, since I cannot dissuade you," Coby said. "Heaven forbid that Ned would shave off his beard and try to pass as your maidservant."

The lovers exchanged knowing glances, and Coby rolled her eyes. If only Mal would return and take charge of his wayward friends. She got more respect from the skraylings.

"Only one problem," Ned said. "Where are you going to get clothes from? You both need to look the part."

"That's the easy bit," Coby said. "Raleigh told me we are all invited to the Doge's investiture tomorrow, and to make a good show for England we must wear the finest clothes the Mercerie can provide. But he never said we had to dress as men."

When Mal stepped ashore, he half expected to be arrested. After all, he'd spoken to a skrayling captain in public, in full sight of the Doge's Palace. Perhaps Surian's men were only watching the embassy, or perhaps the skraylings were not subject to the full force of Venetian law unless they came ashore. Still, best not to push his luck. He wanted this business with Hennaq concluded quickly and efficiently, with as little danger to his friends as possible, and to be sure of that he needed help.
The Mermaid was empty this early in the morning. A pale-faced girl was scrubbing the tables; she looked up as Mal entered and forced a smile that turned into a yawn.

"Can I help you, sir?"