The Merchant of Dreams (29 page)

“Not really. I have human friends, lovers, but–…”

“But they cannot know what we are.”

“No.”

“Then how did you become one of the Unbound?”

Unbound? Was that the guisers’ name for themselves?
“I don’t remember much of anything. It was dark and…”
And I was afraid
.

She took his hand and squeezed it. “Next time it will be different. Next time I will be there for you, and you for me.”

He looked down into her green eyes. The pain and loneliness in her voice was genuine, he was sure of it. What would it be like to walk down the centuries together, man or woman, turn and turn about as they pleased? It was an intriguing prospect, but one that would make him the enemy of his brother, and of Kiiren. And yet he had to learn to control this thing inside him or he would never have peace, with Olivia or with Coby.

“Please, my lady, will you teach me?”

“How to dreamwalk?”

“Yes.”

She smiled. “Of course.”

She took him in her arms again, not as a lover but as a friend offering comfort. Mal laid his head upon her breast.
Dear Lady in Heaven, what am I doing?

But reply came there none.

CHAPTER XX

They arrived in Spalato around dawn, and Youssef escorted them to an inn on the main square. Two of his men carried Gabriel on an improvised litter, causing many a sleepy-eyed stare from the women visiting the well in the centre of the marketplace. The captain also negotiated a fair price with the innkeeper and lent Coby some money to pay for it.

“We can’t thank you enough, Captain Youssef,” she stammered when he told her.

“You are most welcome. It is thanks to you that the painted demons drove off those pirates; otherwise I would have lost many men.” He bade her farewell and left the inn.

Youssef must have made an impression on the innkeeper, for they had been given the finest room in the place, with a bed large enough for twice their party. Gabriel already occupied one side, tucked up in thick blankets despite the mild air. Sandy still had his cloak on, and his knapsack was slung over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Leaving.”

“For Venice? It’s not safe for you to go alone.” She retreated to the door and stood before it, arms folded. “I swore to Mal I’d keep you out of trouble, and I won’t break that promise.”
Even though I have already failed once.

“Then you will have to leave your friend behind.”

She looked past him at Gabriel. The colour had returned to the actor’s cheeks and he had even roused briefly when they moved him onto the litter, but he was a long way from being fit to travel.

“I can’t leave him alone in a strange city, not like this. He could still die unless someone looks after him properly.”

“Then you will have to choose between us.”

He gave her that smug grin, the one that made him look so much like his brother.
Damn him
.

“No. It is you who have to choose,” she said. “Stay here for a few days whilst we work out how we’re going to get into Venice without Hennaq catching us first, or dash off and risk everything. You can’t do it alone, you don’t even speak the language.”

“Neither do you.”

“True, but I know my way around a city. Do you?”

His shoulders sagged, and she started to relax. A moment later he slammed both hands against the door, one either side of her head. The planks vibrated against her back in counterpoint to her pounding heart.

“I have seen more cities than you have seen new moons, youngling,” he growled. “Now let me go.”

She drew herself up to her full height and looked him in the eye. “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

From the bed came a groan. “Is it morning already?”

Coby wanted to run to Gabriel and soothe him back to sleep, but she knew that if she did that, Sandy would leave.

“How are you going to get there?” she said in a low voice. “You don’t have any money.”

“I will find a way.”

“Give me a day,” she said. “Just one day. If I don’t have a better plan for you by this time tomorrow, you can go with my blessing.”

He appeared to consider for a moment. “One day.”

“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.”

“So we are to go to Venice after all.”

“Of course. We cannot just go home, not after coming all this way.”

“We will have to be careful,” Sandy said. “We cannot count upon my people to protect us, not if Hennaq petitions them.”

“Lord Kiiren would not betray us, would he?”

“Of course not, but it is not his choice alone.”

“Then we will have to rely on stealth and guile,” Coby said, “and hide our purpose from both the Venetians and the skraylings.”

“What did you have in mind?” Gabriel asked.

“A phoenix.”

“A phoenix?” His brow creased in puzzlement.

“Ascension Day isn’t just about the Doge and the sea. There’s a big procession, and entertainments all over the city, day and night. Musicians and players will be flocking to Venice, so no one will notice one more troupe. Our troupe.” She bit her lip, hardly able to rein in her excitement. “Suffolk’s Men will rise from the ashes.”

Erishen closed his eyes and let the night sounds wash over him: the girl snoring, the other one shifting on the flea-ridden mattress, mice scuttling across the rafters, the whisper of wings as a bat skimmed past the window. A dog barked, shaking him out of his reverie for a moment, then was silent. Down into sleep he drifted, dark waters pulling him under until his feet touched solid ground. Not water after all, but air, or at least the semblance of it. Not day or night, but a silver-grey twilight forever frozen, colourless, on the brink of dawn. He looked around at the dark landscape dotted with domes of faint golden light, the sleeping minds of the city. Though he scanned them carefully, he saw no sign of the brighter auras of his own people, white or violet in hue.

He stretched arms that became wings, and soared above the plain, wheeling over the barren darkness of the sea, heading north towards Venice. The cities were closer here than in the waking world, drawn together by bonds of blood and faith, and it took him only minutes to reach Venice, laid out beneath him like a jewelled carving. He drifted, letting his aura disperse a little so that he was just one more blur of light in the eternal firmament. It was harder to think clearly in this state, but also harder for anyone else to spot him. The lights below shimmered in an ever-changing pattern, flowing like water… For a moment he thought he caught sight of a blue-white spark amongst the gold, diamond-bright, but it winked out again. Did Kiiren stir in uneasy sleep? Or had some sharp-eyed enemy, spotting him, taken cover? The girl was right, he should not show his hand too soon.

With a sigh he skimmed southwards once more, picking up speed as he shaped himself into a falcon, bright and fierce. As the smaller city came into view, the temptation to plunge down and immerse himself in their memories and longings threatened to overwhelm him. It would not be as sweet as his communings with Kiiren, but there was a raw pleasure to be had from these mortals, playing upon their fears and desires until they woke in a cold sweat to the memory of his laughter. Only once before had he tried it, and then only to save his brother’s life, but that had been enough to whet his appetite. He wheeled over the city, looking for a target. There. The girl’s plan had been good, but with his help it would be even better.

Coby woke at dawn to find Sandy already up and dressed.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” she said, sitting up and running her fingers through her tangled hair. She had slept in her clothes as usual, even though she knew neither man had any untoward interest in her. “I thought you agreed to my plan.”

“So I do,” he said. “But I need to bathe first. You Christians are filthy creatures.”

“I can order hot water brought up here.”

“I would prefer to swim, or at least immerse myself.” He scratched his scalp. “No wonder you people are covered in lice. I will find a stream, or go down to the sea.”

“You can’t leave the city, it’s not safe.” A thought struck her, though it was a poor compromise. She dug in her purse and pulled out a couple of small coins. “There’s a Turkish bath near the market square. I believe they have pools for bathing.”

He looked sceptical, but took the proffered coins.

“Just be careful, all right?” she said. “I am not entirely sure those places are… respectable.”

“I have no interest in rutting with one of your people,” he said. “My
amayi
is all I desire.”