King's Gold

Sir Richard’s mouth stopped moving as he absorbed that. ‘D’ye think the foreign bretheling⁴² would dare a trick like that? We’d have his ballocks if he did!’

‘If he was discovered,’ Baldwin said.

‘It’s possible,’ Simon judged.

‘It is one possibility, in any case,’ Baldwin said. ‘Perhaps we should ensure that the gaol is watched? It would be a great shame were the Bardi to insinuate a weapon into the gaol. Or poison. His servant may well be the only witness to another crime, and I would not have him slain because his master sees him as an embarrassment.’

‘What will you do, then?’ Simon asked. ‘Go and question him?’

Baldwin sipped wine from the mazer before him, pulling a face at the flavour. ‘Not today. I will pay the gaoler to stop men visiting the prisoner, and plan on seeing him tomorrow. If there is an attempt upon his life, we may catch the culprit. In any case, he will have spent four days in prison by then. Time for him to have realised how unpleasant his life could become, were he to remain there. Yes, tomorrow I shall speak with him.’

Matteo had seen the knights talking at their table, and felt a certain quivering in his belly at the sight. It would be better if Dolwyn was dead. The man was a danger to the bank, and to him personally. And Matteo had no idea how to deal with him.

He walked about the yard, musing over his servant, and thinking too about his brother. There was so much danger it was hard to isolate the greatest threat. But as he walked, he saw Benedetto, and he felt certain that this was the time to seek to resolve one issue, if he could.

Benedetto had taken power so quickly after Manuele’s death, he reminded himself. Now he bent his steps towards his brother.

‘Benedetto, I would have a moment,’ he said.

‘Of course,’ his brother answered, waving away the two guards who were always behind him. ‘This is a magnificent castle, is it not? Who could wish for a more comfortable and congenial home? And the lord keeps it in such splendid condition, especially with all the reworkings. They will enhance it, I have no doubt. I think . . .’ He noticed at last the expression on his brother’s face. ‘Why, what is it, Matteo?’

He had grown more confident in his position, Matteo saw. From a young age, Matteo had lived in two worlds. One was that of the business, in which he knew he was a crucial part of the entire structure; but in the family, in which he was the youngest member, he had a constant battle to remind himself that he was now a grown man. But it wasn’t him alone, he knew. His brother Benedetto was also aware of the disparity in their ages. Benedetto was the older and would for ever have the increased maturity that age conferred. In the family, Matteo would always submit to Benedetto’s whims. A part of him was still the little boy who could be bullied.

It should not be so. Matteo was an adult now. Such foolishness hampered his clarity of thought.

‘Benedetto. I am worried.’

‘Yes? And by what?’

‘You.’

Benedetto stopped and eyed him with surprise. ‘What do you mean, little brother?’

For Matteo, that term was confirmation of the contempt in which he was held by his brother. He said sharply, ‘I may be younger than you but without my efforts, our bank would be out of business. You would have joined Manuele in supporting the old King, and the House of Bardi would have collapsed, as did his reign. So don’t call me “little brother”, like some idiot child. I am the head intelligencer for the bank. Treat me as such.’

‘Of course, Matteo,’ his brother said with a touch of injured aloofness.

‘What I mean is, I have had a lot of time to think since my injury.’ Matteo said, ‘and I must know. Did you send a man to kill me that day?’

‘Me!’ Benedetto cried. There was no mistaking his hurt.

‘You disappeared so quickly. I was stabbed a moment or two after seeing our brother die. It was almost as though someone paid the mob to kill us both. That would have left you with total control of the business.’

‘Matteo, listen to yourself,’ Benedetto said pleadingly. ‘I had to return to my house because I was due to meet a man. I was gone from the bank in great haste. I did not see Manuele’s death because I was already halfway home. How can you think that I would do such a thing? I am your brother, Matteo, and that means as much to me as it does to you! I couldn’t plot your death. I couldn’t.’

‘Whom did you have to see? Someone from the King’s household?’

‘No. It was Sir Jevan. He wished to confirm that the money needed by the Queen would be sent to her. It was as we had discussed in the meeting.’

‘You had already decided?’ Matteo said, eyes narrowing. ‘You had plotted with her before we had the meeting?’