“On the other hand, Marc,” said Roberto di Bolgia, “di Rezzi is a well-known supporter of the Italian-Northern European faction in Rome. Could this stranger, this non-European-seeming stranger, not have been an agent for the Moors or the Spaniards? Both factions have easy access to raw gold, and it would clearly be to their advantage to use unmarked golden flats, rather than, say, onzas or Moorish coins. Think you on that, eh?”
“Well, the only way we’ll any of us know for certain is to catch this chapman or whatever he is,” said Timoteo, adding, “And we just might do that. According to Ingebord, he is about due for a visit, and as he most often came by ship up the river, this silly siege shouldn’t hamper his incoming to Munster; merchants of one kind or another land on the river docks every day. I had a good description of the bugger of Ingebord, so I’ll just keep my eyes peeled and my own agents alert for a man of that description. Once I have the man, I’ll introduce him to Master Mohamad . . . and then we three will chat with him.”
Close-range cannon fire quickly sank the crippled Moorish galley, but the crew of the galleass could hardly rest on their hard-won laurels, for the other two galleys were both bearing down upon them, propelled by both the wind and their banks of flashing oar blades. Despite the big, long target thus presented to the threatening rams. Sir Giorgio ordered the galleass maneuvered about broadside to the enemy ships, that both the prow and stern batteries of large cannon might be brought to bear, as well as the smaller swivels mounted along the waist rails.
Not too many rounds had been fired off after the maneuver was completed when fickle fortune favored the gunners. The left-hand galley slowed, moved in a half-circle as only one bank of oars drew, then the crew could be seen frantically trying to jettison the heavy chaser guns mounted at prow and stern. With this one clearly in trouble, all the guns of the galleass that would bear were aimed at the one remaining Moorish craft. They did not score a visible hit, but, apparently no longer caring for the now-refigured odds, the vessel turned tail and withdrew as fast as oars and sails would take her.
Sir Giorgio Predone had his own ship, the galleass Spaventoso, rowed over closer to the obviously sinking galley that he had holed. With Sir Ugo D’Orsini and a contingent of the soldiery, he had the larger of his towed barges drawn up alongside, manned, and used to transport them to the doomed galley. The smaller barge was sent out to rescue any young, hale, unwounded survivors of this galley or the first that still might be in the water, for supplies of men to handle the long, incredibly heavy oars of the galleass were often hard to come by.
When finally the galleass sailed on toward the distant smudge on the horizon which was Sicily, she had garnered nearly three dozens of new galley slaves, two fine bronze chasers (one of twelve pounds and one of fifteen pounds), some seven swivel guns, an assortment of arquebuses, muskets, pistols, and edge or pole weapons, a few barrels of gunpowder, plus bits and pieces of armor, cordage, sailcloth, and ship’s hardware. Sir Giorgio opined that it was not a bad profit for a few pounds of powder and shot expended and a little time lost.
After the formal meeting with Archbishop di Rezzi, whereat he had informed the old man that he shortly would be a cardinal and that, consequently, he would not be returning to Irland. Cardinal D’Este met privately with Sir Ugo D’Orsini in a solar that il Duce Timoteo di Bolgia would have recalled from his visit to D’Este’s Palermo palace.
Immediately the servitor had poured wine, set out trays of sweetmeats, and departed on silent felt-soled slippers, D’Este said, “Well, my boy, how goes the so-called war in Munster?”
“You did not receive my letters, then, your Eminence?” replied Sir Ugo worriedly.
“Oh, yes, my boy, oh. yes, regularly, in fact. But I assumed that you did not put everything into written form. For instance, how did our condottierc and di Rezzi get along?”
Sir Ugo made a wry face. “Like a cat and a dog, both of them on the verge of starvation. Your Eminence. For some obscure reason. His Grace di Rezzi took an immediate dislike to Duke Timoteo and even made attempts, it was learned, to undermine his influence with the king and his council.”
D’Este smiled flittingly. “Not at all surprising, young Ugo. not when we consider that which has been teamed since the demise of old Abdul. No, it seems that my good, trustworthy old friend and one-time mentor Giosu£ di Rezzi did some years back sell out to Abdul and the Moorish Faction in Rome. He became a willing spy within our camp, as it were, and this is the reason that Abdul and his people so vigorously resisted his being sent to fill the vacant archbishopric of Munster, back then, not—as we all then assumed—simply because he was one of us and not a Moor or a Spaniard.”
“Then . . . then Your Eminence brought him back in order to kill him for his found-out treachery?” asked Sir Ugo, knowing even as he asked that such a solution was far too simple for the intricate ways of Rome.
D’Este raised his hands in an expression of what was obviously mock horror. “Sir Ugo, how could you, a Papal knight, think so of Holy Mother the Church or of humble priest and bishop like me? Fie, fie, young sir!”
Then he smiled. “No, son Ugo, we none of us need soil our hands or souls with di Rizzi blood. All that we need do is to send him on to Rome and I doubt not that the Moors and the Spaniards will do the task efficiently. You see, the Moors are aware that we uncovered di Rezzi’s dirty little secret from amongst the secret correspondence of Abdul which we … acquired, just prior to his demise. If di Rezzi now returns to Rome and it is bruited about—as it certainly will be—that we are supporting him for one of the number of recently vacated appointments of cardinal.
then they will have no other thought than that he has again turned his coat. You see, my boy, no one ever has complete faith in a bought spy, regardless the coin in which he is or was paid, regardless how long and seemingly faithful has been his service to the purchaser. No, when once he arrives in Rome, di Rezzi is dead.”
“And what then of Munster, Your Eminence?” inquired Sir Ugo.
D’Este sipped and savored the wine in his goblet before he spoke. “Ah, yes, Munster. Sir knight, we have great plans for Munster. It is just possible that those plans will result in the filling of two now-vacant sees—that of Munster and that of Rome.
“Look you, Ugo, can our faction be clearly responsible for bringing not only Irland, but England and Wales as well back under the sway of the Roman Papacy, why then no one—Moor or Spaniard or any of the rest of that ilk—would dare to stand against us, lest they lose those northerly islands all over again and possibly for good on the second occasion.”
“But Your Eminence, how can …” began the young knight.
The cardinal waved a hand. “My boy, I am certain thai you, like most laymen, are of the belief that higher ranks of clergy must always be named and confirmed in their positions by Rome, but this is not a hard and fast doctrine. In past times, in times of great crisis, kings and other secular rulers have been allowed, nay, encouraged, to make appointments to fill vacant sees. The grandfather of the present Harold, Archbishop of York, was an example; King Henry VII Tudor did name him during a terrible outbreak of that pest that is commonly called priests’ plague.”
Both men hurriedly signed themselves at mention of the deadly scourge.
“Well, if you cannot call the murderous insanity now raging in and about Rome a crisis, then I can hardly think just what could be so called. When you return to Munster, you will be bearing documents signed and sealed by the five most powerful prelates yet extant. These will take you first to the court of the High King of Irland, Brian VIII, then to the Kingdom of England and Wales, where you will seek and obtain audience with Harold of York. To him, to Harold, you will be presenting a proposition, two of them, actually, although if he should accept the first, you will immediately destroy the second and utterly forget that ever it existed. I know, I know, you do not understand now … but you will ere you set sail back to Munster, never fear.”