The Merchant of Dreams (Night's Masque, #2)(74)

"And I have your word you won't run off, the moment my back is turned?"

"Yes."

"Thank you." She pushed past him and went over to the bed, but Gabriel was already asleep.

Exploring Spalato did not take long. Although it called itself a city, it was no bigger than many of the provincial towns Coby had visited whilst touring with Suffolk's Men: a market square with several streets leading off, a few churches, and a harbour. There were some buildings one did not find in an English town, including an office whose only purpose was the collection and delivery of letters, and a public bath where the citizens of Spalato resorted to wash themselves. If it had not been for the apparent respectability of the women going in and out of the building, and the separate entrances for each sex, she would have taken it to be a stew. The only whores she had seen so far had been in the common room of the inn, lounging around with bare breasts and bored expressions, much like their sisters back home.

She went down to the harbour and reassured herself there was no sign of Hennaq's ship, but still her heart was heavy as she made her way back to the market square. She had no idea how she was going to convince Sandy not to leave for Venice without her, nor how she could ensure Gabriel's safety if she left. Lost in this dilemma, she hardly noticed when a young man stepped out into the street in front of her. Passers-by laughed as wooden balls rained down around the two of them. Coby looked up into the eyes of a solemn young man a few years older than herself. He muttered an apology and bent to retrieve the balls. Over his head Coby spotted a large red-and-yellow striped tent that had not been in the marketplace when she left. She walked towards it slowly, a plan beginning to crystallise on the edge of her thoughts.

She found Gabriel sitting up in bed, pale but cheerful. He had managed to find paper, pen and ink from somewhere and was scratching away feverishly. Every so often he would pause and stare out of the window, then resume his writing.

"Sorry, am I disturbing you?" she said, when he laid his pen down.

"No, it's all right." He put the sheet of paper aside to dry. "My hand was starting to cramp anyway."

"How's it going?"

Gabriel sighed "The story has taken a strange turn. I'm not sure I'm in the right humour for comedy today."

"Perhaps a rest is a good thing, then." She looked around the room. Sandy's cloak was draped over the windowsill, but there was no sign of his knapsack. "Where's Sandy?"

"He said he was going down to the docks."

"I did not see him, and it is a small city. Faith, I hope he has not run off already. I need to speak to him."

She tried to suppress her grin of triumph and failed utterly.

"You have a plan?" Gabriel said, leaning forward.

"Later, when Sandy returns," she said. "But I will need your support."

He held out his hand. "Always."

She turned away, overcome by this unexpected show of loyalty. What had she done to deserve it, except get them out of the trouble she should have avoided in the first place?

"Come," she said. "Let me have a look at your wound."

Gabriel eased his left leg out of bed and sat patiently whilst she unwrapped the bandages. The deeper cuts had been stitched up neatly by Gaoh and were nicely scabbed over, and the flesh around them was less red and hot than it had been. Satisfied, she wound the bandages back around his calf and tied the ends.

"Have you tried walking yet?"

He shook his head.

"Why don't we give it a go? You can lean on me."

They made it to the window without much trouble, then Gabriel rested a while against the sill before attempting the return journey to the bed. By the time they reached it, he was white-faced and breathing heavily.

"Enough," Coby said. "We'll do it again after supper."

Gabriel forced a smile. "Thank you. I am in your debt."

"I think we are even," she replied. "I have long owed you and Ned for helping to rescue Master Catlyn from Ferrymead House."

"Still…"

Footsteps sounded outside. A moment later the door opened and Sandy entered, ducking under the lintel.

"So," he said, looking from one to the other, "do you have a plan to get us to Venice?"

"I do," Coby said.

Sandy drew up a stool. "I am listening."

She paced around the room, ticking off the points on her fingers.

"First, we send a letter to Mal, warning him about Hennaq. The Venetians have a very efficient postal service, and we know he intended to go to the English ambassador, so we have somewhere to send the letter. It could be with him even faster than we can get there."

"What if the Venetians open it?" Gabriel said. "Any mention of skraylings may cause them to suspect his purpose there."

"I will use a cipher, to make the contents seem innocent," Coby said. "But the point is, we can warn Mal swiftly, and still have time to make our own preparations. I have been gathering gossip, as best I can, and it seems the skraylings' embassy progresses slowly. No agreement has been reached, nor is likely to be, at least not this side of Ascension Day."

"What's so important about Ascension Day?" Gabriel asked.

"It is the day when the ruler of Venice, the Doge, celebrates the city's naval history with a grand ceremony out in the lagoon." She pulled a face. "Some heathen ritual involving a gold wedding ring, I'm told. Anyway, it's all about the power and might of Venice, so they're not going to overshadow that by admitting how much they need a foreign alliance."