The Merchant of Dreams by Anne Lyle

Author:Anne Lyle [Lyle, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, General, Espionage, Historical, Fantasy, Action, Intrigue, Elizabethan adventure
ISBN: 9781469268965
Publisher: Angry Robot
Published: 2012-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XIX

Mal disembarked from the hired gondola and paused on the threshold of Ca’ Ostreghe. It was over a year since Jathekkil had poked around in his head for memories he could use against him, and still it woke him in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. The prospect of coming up against another such monster made his stomach curdle, but he could not hide his head under the blankets like a frightened child and hope they went away. He adjusted his mask and stepped inside.

A cold wind was blowing down from the Alps tonight, and Olivia’s garden was dark and empty. Instead the eunuch guard indicated wordlessly for Mal to follow him up to the piano nobile, where a log fire held the unseasonable chill at bay and dozens of candles bathed the room in a memory of sunlight. Olivia sat on a gilded chair reading poetry, whilst a number of admirers perched on stools around her. Bragadin leaned against the marble fireplace with an air of studied indifference; evidently he valued Olivia more as an ornament to his own reputation than for herself.

“Ah, Signore Catalin!” Bragadin stepped forward. With his face half-hidden behind the mask, his smile looked forced and insincere. “I did not know you had been invited.”

“I chanced to meet La Margherita,” Mal said, “whilst I was about my own business, and I confessed to her that I was weary of Raleigh’s company after so many weeks at sea.”

Bragadin’s smile was more genuine this time. “Signore Raleigh is a simple man of action, I suppose.”

“Alas so.”

“And yet he comes all the way to Venice for a gift for your queen. A man of contradictions.”

“I observed as much on first meeting him,” Mal said. “But perhaps such grand gestures are of a piece with his temperament.”

“May I ask what brings you to Venice, if you are not of his following?”

A liveried page appeared at Mal’s elbow with a tray of steaming silver flagons. Mal took one, rolling the stem idly between his fingers.

“Vengeance,” he said with a grin.

Bragadin looked taken aback. “I hope you do not bring a vendetta to our city, signore. We have strict laws against those who disturb the peace of La Serenissima.”

“Nothing so dreadful, I assure you, sir. I seek my elder brother, who gambled away our family fortune. Perhaps you know him. He goes by the name of Carlo Catalin.”

Mal watched Bragadin carefully, but this time the Venetian betrayed no sign of recognising the name.

“I am sorry, signore, but this is a large city and in any case state business occupies most of my time. If a man is not in the Golden Book or a notorious criminal, it is unlikely that I would have come across him.”

“A pity. Perhaps I shall seek out this Mercante fellow. He seems to know everything that goes on in Venice.”

Bragadin’s eyes narrowed behind his mask, but before he could reply, a patter of applause marked the end of their hostess’s recitation. Olivia’s admirers hurried to make room for her as she rose from her seat.

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