‘I take your point, sir. But surely to take that point a
step further, I would have to say that you are a dishonest man, since your silk shirt must have cost . . . ten in silver . . . ?’
‘Thirty.’ The man gave a broad smile as he opened the pouch at his side. Removing two gold coins he laid them on the desk. ‘Unless I am mistaken,’ he said, ‘your wage for the year is less than the amount you see here.’
‘You are quite correct, sir.’
‘Take the coins in your hand. Feel the weight and the warmth. Gold has a special feel, Niro.’
The cleric’s thin hand gathered the coins. ‘So it does. So it does.’
‘My convoy will be here by midnight. There will be no need to register its arrival.’
The man rose and swirled his cloak around his broad shoulders. ‘Might I know your name, sir?’ asked Niro.
‘I am Lunder. Serve me well, Niro, and you will enjoy great fortune.’
‘I thank you, sir. And you have saved me a journey.’ Niro opened the desk drawer and produced a folded sheet of paper bearing the Duke’s seal in red wax. ‘I was asked to deliver this to you this morning.’
‘What is it?’ asked the merchant.
‘I have no idea, sir. I am not privy to the Duke’s thoughts.’ Lunder took the paper and broke the seal. Then he smiled.
‘I am invited to dine at the palace this evening,’ he said.
‘Congratulations, sir. I am informed that the Duke’s chef is exceptional.’
The Duke’s carriage – handsomely crafted from mahogany, and fitted with seats of luxurious padded leather – was drawn by six greys. Lunder sat back and enjoyed the ride.
Velvet curtains kept out the winter wind and two copper warming-pans full of hot coals hung from hooks in the roof, filling the compartment with gentle heat.
Lunder was as happy as any man born in a crofter’s hut could be to ride in such a carriage. He wondered what his father would think of him, if he could but see what a man he had become! A house with twenty-six servants, a mistress of great beauty, and a personal fortune greater even than the Duke’s. All this, plus an estate in the islands should the Daroth prove to be the menace everyone feared. Lunder could hear the iron-shod wheels rattling over the cobbles, but inside the compartment there was little sense of movement. He gazed at the ornate panelling, wonderfully carved from red mahogany. I should have a carriage like this, he thought. And I will.
His thick fingers reached into the pocket of his velvet coat, drawing out a gold necklace and a tear-shaped amethyst set in filigree gold. An ancient piece, it had cost him 200 silver pieces. The amethyst was a present for Miriac, who loved such baubles. He would wake her when he got back, and watch her bright blue eyes go wide with joy. It was not a cause of irritation for Lunder that Miriac’s ardour could only be awakened by such gems. Lunder himself found the acquisition of fresh wealth a continuing aphrodisiac. Added to which, all the presents he gave her were, in fact, registered in his name at the treasury, with bills of sale. If ever he tired of her, all the jewels would be his again.
He heard the driver call out to the horses and the carriage slowed to a stop. The journey had been much swifter than he had calculated. Surely they could not be at the palace already? He rapped at the small hatch. ‘Why are we stopping?’ he called. There was no answer. Pulling back the curtains, he gazed out onto a grisly sight. The
carriage had stopped in Gallows Square. Torches were lit all around it, and in their flickering light he could see ten corpses hanging by their necks. ‘Move on!’ he shouted at the driver. This was no sight for a man about to dine.
A figure moved to the carriage door, wrenching it open. A soldier in a plumed helm pulled down the steps. ‘Out you get, sir,’ he said.
‘What are you doing? I am a guest of the Duke; he is awaiting me.’