Tom Swan and the Head of St. George Part Five: Rhodes Read Free

knight. ‘The time of Troy!’
    Swan smiled. ‘Near enough,’ he said. He’d learned that, like convincing adults of his innocence, teaching people about the complications of history was largely a waste of his time.
    Drappierro poked his head in through the door. ‘Gentlemen,’ he said in his deadpan voice, and then he saw the helmet. ‘But it is magnificent!’ he exclaimed.
    Fra Tommaso handed it to him silently, and the man all but glowed. He ran his fingers over the fine web of embossed olive leaves and lions at the brow. ‘Please allow me to buy this from you,’ Drappierro said. Then he looked at the table. His fingers darted out and grabbed the matching seal rings.
    ‘Where did you find these?’ he asked.
    Swan sat back comfortably. ‘I spent three days searching for them, messire.’
    Drappierro looked at him, eyes narrowed. ‘Where?’ he asked.
    Swan had played cards long enough to keep his face blank. ‘Near Athens,’ he said.
    ‘I’ll take them – and the helmet. What’s this?’ he said, putting a hand on the phallus and then pulling it away as if burned. ‘Obscene! And the rest of this is junk.’
    He began to admire the seals. Then he dropped them in his purse.
    Swan thought, And they call me a thief! ‘Messire needs to purchase them if he desires them so strongly.’
    Drappierro flicked his fingers. ‘Talk to my staff. I do not deal in domestic matters.’
    Swan leaned forward, slapped a hand on the table, and with the ease of long practice, slipped Drappierro’s purse off its hook while the man was watching his other hand. He withdrew his rings, took his helmet off the table, and bowed.
    ‘When you have negotiated a price and paid it, you may have these items, messire, and not until then. I collect for the Pope and several cardinals and the – ’ he hoped his hesitation didn’t show – ‘the Duke of Milan.’
    Drappierro shot to his feet and fetched his head a staggering blow against the deck beams. He fell, almost unconscious.
    Swan took the moment to sweep the rest of his acquisitions into a bag. He was tempted to empty the Genoese man’s purse, but he managed to resist. He tossed it on the table with a healthy clink and went on deck.
    The second leg of their voyage was far more comfortable than the first, mostly because Peter had arranged for deck space among the Burgundian archers, and Swan slept both warm and well between Antoine and Peter. Antoine was as welcome with the archers as Peter – even more so when he made them bread in a hastily rigged clay oven on an open beach not far from where the Persian fleet failed to defeat the Greek fleet at Artemesium. The Genoese ambassador had a stop to make on Naxos, and Swan again visited the market and bought coins and a dagger.
    A day out of Naxos, he was playing chess with the captain on the quarterdeck. The day was fine, and it seemed possible that spring was not so very far away. The Genoese ambassador came on deck, climbed the ladder to the quarterdeck as if he owned it, and stood watching the sea. He leaned on the rail and watched the game for a dozen moves.
    ‘I do want to buy those pieces,’ he said without preamble. ‘Cyriaco collected for me. He never charged me. I assumed you were working for him.’ The man’s voice was mild. ‘I apologise for my apparent theft.’
    Swan shot to his feet and swept his best bow. ‘I knew that a gentleman of your distinction would be under some misapprehension,’ he said.
    ‘How much for the helmet and the rings?’ Drappierro asked. Then, his expression slipping, he said, ‘You haven’t already sold them?’
    Swan wanted to laugh aloud. How did this man rise to greatness in Genoa? he asked himself. He wears his heart on his face! He rubbed his chin. ‘I’ll sell you both rings and the helmet for two hundred ducats, messire.’
    Drappierro nodded. ‘Done. See my chamberlain. See? I am not so unreasonable. When you have been paid, kindly bring them to me. Are we