Читать книгу The Last Suitor - A J McMahon - Страница 9

FIVE

The Threat Made by Mr Frank Jollison to the Family

of Mr Nicholas Raspero

10:00 AM, Friday 6 May 1544 A.F.

Jolly, Tagalong and Angela were sitting in Jolly’s private quarters. Tagalong had just recounted the story of his day with Nicholas Raspero, leaving nothing out except the part about Tagalong giving his word of honour that he never tell the story he was telling.

Jolly heard him out in silence, then sat back and went deep into thought. Angela put aside all speculation concerning Lord Foxley’s next gift, and paid close attention to what was going on. She knew when Jolly meant business, and he looked as serious as she ever saw him.

There was something about Jolly that immediately inspired trust in the unwary. The gleaming white hair combed back in gentle waves over his noble brow added such an air of distinction to his kindly face that it was made immediately clear that here was a man who would do the right thing. It was true that his lips were lizard thin and his eyes snake-black, but you had to look closely to see these things.

There was a strangeness to Jolly’s presence that to those used to his company had come to seem like the inevitability of his rule. His voice had an almost hypnotic quality to it, and the compelling nature of his voice coupled with the commanding look in his eyes made obedience to his orders seem almost a matter of course, as if to hear Jolly was to obey him. It was rumoured that Jolly knew secrets of the world that gave him power over human minds.

Jolly came out of his reverie and looked at Angela. ‘Remember what I told you about there being more ways of fighting than wandfighting?’

‘No, Jolly,’ Angela replied, knowing that this was what he wanted to hear.

‘Raspero can’t be taken down with a wand. But he’s got a weakness for women. A man who’ll do the Three just to get an introduction to a beautiful woman, even if it is Lady Isabel Grangeshield, is a man who I want you to get to know. You’re a beautiful woman, Angela. You will take down Raspero for me.’

‘You mean he’s my next client?’ Angela asked, not very pleased to learn that a man with no money would be her next client.

‘No,’ Jolly shook his head, ‘you just get to know him, that’s all. You do what has to be done. You just make sure that when the time comes, you’ll be ready to do what I say.’ Jolly turned to Tagalong. ‘Now here’s where you come in. Angela is going to need rescuing from the attentions of men who would misuse her, and Raspero is going to rescue her. You’re going to make sure Raspero is where he has to be to do the rescuing.’

‘We’ve done rescuing already, boss,’ Tagalong pointed out. ‘We’re playing the same trick twice.’

‘I’ll put Pay in charge of this one,’ Jolly continued, as if Tagalong had not spoken at all. ‘And you, Angela, once Raspero has rescued you, will be the grateful damsel in distress who worships your saviour. You do what you have to do, but you get Raspero eating out of your hand. You’re grateful to him as your hero, the man who saved you from villainy and that makes him responsible for your happiness. Whatever it takes, you do it.’

‘Yes, Jolly,’ Angela said obediently.

Jolly waved them away with his hands and sank back into his thoughts. Whatever his thoughts were, they were too deep for him to notice them leave his quarters.

2:30 PM, Saturday 7 May 1544 A.F.

Nicholas was walking along Giffard Street the next day when he heard his name called. He turned around to see Tagalong hurrying over to him, a broad smile on his face.

‘Mr Raspero! I can never thank you enough for what you have done for me.’ Tagalong looked around, and then said in a low voice, ‘I spoke to the lady whom I mentioned, and she was so gracious as to inform me that soon she will be mine! And it is all thanks to you, Mr Raspero! I owe you far more than my life.’

Nicholas wasn’t quite sure what to make of Tagalong. ‘Think nothing of it, Mr Longman.’ He turned and continued walking along the street. Tagalong fell into step beside him.

‘You are modest and talented, a gentleman after my own heart,’ Tagalong cried out. ‘But I know where you are going. I was going to go there myself so I would be delighted to accompany you if I might be so bold as to suggest such a pleasing outcome.’

‘I’m not going anywhere, I’m just wandering around,’ Nicholas replied, perfectly truthfully.

Tagalong looked at him in surprise. ‘But surely you are going to see the duel at three o’clock at Mildgyd?’

Nicholas shook his head. ‘I haven’t heard of it. Anyway, I’m not interested.’

‘Not interested in witnessing a duel? My dear Mr Raspero, do you not realise that this is where you can meet people who will appreciate your unique gifts? The story that you have done the Three at the Regana Palace the other day is already spreading amongst wandfighters throughout New Landern. There you will meet people who will adore you, there you will meet people who will wish you to do the Three at Kenina Park and have your name on the List. There you will be a very popular man.’ These were guesses in the dark from Tagalong, who was probing Nicholas for his weaknesses, but they were good guesses. Nicholas was starting to feel that he did not know enough people in New Landern. He had been there for five whole days and had hardly met anybody! It was a feeling that had started to grow in him recently, and as he had not given Isabel another moment’s thought, he did not connect this sense of loneliness with having seen her.

‘It would be good to meet more people,’ Nicholas conceded. ‘Perhaps you’re right.’

‘Mr Raspero,’ Tagalong proclaimed, ‘when you have come to know me better you will realise I am always right. I have only ever been wrong on one occasion.’

Nicholas realised he was expected to ask about this one occasion, so he asked, ‘And what was that?’

‘You will laugh at me. I will not say,’ Tagalong declared, looking away defiantly.

Nicholas went through the motions, not caring less. ‘No, I insist on knowing,’ he said dully.

‘Very well,’ Tagalong said, ‘I will surrender to your insistent questioning. I once mistook a glass of Yountry wine for a glass of Rehunda wine. Now you know!’

Nicholas didn’t even bother to pretend to laugh. This kind of talk had been funnier yesterday for some reason.

‘You are very gloomy today, Mr Raspero.’

Nicholas was losing patience. ‘I’m fine, Mr Longman.’

‘Ah.’ Tagalong nodded and fell silent. He knew a quicker way to Mildgyd than the road they were walking along so they turned right down a side alley. A boy crossed the alley below them. They were coming down to a square when a woman’s shrill scream, suddenly cut off short, reached their ears.

Nicholas broke into a run on the instant, his wand out. He flipped himself through the air to go around the corner above head height, turning in mid-air to see what was before him. He hit the ground and rolled and jumped through the air. Tagalong jogged along behind without putting too much effort into it. By the time Tagalong reached the corner Nicholas was way out in front. Tagalong did not bother trying to catch him up. There was a carriage standing in the square, its door wide open. Nicholas flipped himself through the open gate of a neighbouring stableyard. The door to the stables was half open, and beyond it was the sound of muffled screaming, struggling and shouting. Tagalong followed him and was just in time to see Nicholas ignore the door and flip himself onto the roof in one movement, landing softly without a sound, after which the wandfighter promptly disappeared over the ridge of the roof. Tagalong ran to the door.

The tableau was set. Angela was struggling in the arms of two men, her dress half torn off, managing to get out a muffled scream now and then. There were seven men in the stables, laughing and making comments. Tagalong ran in, his wand drawn.

‘Let her go!’ he shouted, knowing that Nicholas would be there any moment now. He wanted Nicholas to see how Tagalong was bravely doing the right thing. ‘Let her go now!’

Pay was looking behind Tagalong, wondering where Nicholas was. Tagalong struck at Pay just as Nicholas came in through the back window. Pay shouted in anger and flattened Tagalong with one blow as Nicholas came falling down through the air and landed on the ground behind his enemies. Tagalong looked up from the ground to see Nicholas taking them down one by one. The fight didn’t take long. Tagalong got to his feet, holding his hand to his face. His lip was bleeding from the blow he had received. Beautiful, he thought. If this didn’t make him look like an innocent victim, nothing would. He spread the blood as much out as he could while appearing to gently massage his face, to make the bleeding seem worse than it was.

Nicholas stood over his bound enemies, holding their wands in his left hand, his wand still in combat readiness. He looked over at Tagalong briefly, then at Angela lying on the ground, pulling her torn dress around her in an attempt to preserve her modesty. Nicholas turned and walked away. He then stopped and turned around to look at the scene before him, his face expressionless.

Tagalong prayed that Nicholas wasn’t thinking too hard about all the rescuing he had been doing lately. ‘Is it you, Miss Ashton?’ Tagalong cried out.

‘You know her?’ Nicholas asked.

‘I have never met this lady before,’ Tagalong replied, ‘but all of New Landern knows her. This is Miss Angela Ashton, the famous actress. Miss Ashton, your deliverer is Mr Nicholas Raspero.’ Tagalong performed this introduction hastily, to try to gloss over the fact that he had just declared himself to be not in a position to make such an introduction.

‘I can only thank you for your swift and brave intervention, Mr Raspero,’ Miss Ashton said, speaking directly to Nicholas in a sweet, slightly husky voice; it was one of her stage voices that drove men wild. ‘I cannot thank you enough. I am in your debt, Mr Raspero. You will surely not be so harsh as to rebuke me for speaking to you so directly in this fashion, although I know it is surely to stretch the bounds of courtesy.’

Nicholas nodded, not really listening to her. ‘So these men get handed over to the law now, Mr Longman?’

‘They most certainly do,’ Tagalong said firmly. ‘They deserve to be punished to the full extent of the law for what they have tried to do.’

‘Yet surely I will be allowed to depart without further delay,’ Miss Ashton pleaded to Nicholas.

‘Of course you may, Miss Ashton,’ Tagalong said gallantly. ‘I have no doubt you wish to leave this place immediately.’

Angela gave a muffled cry as she saw the huddled figure of Hugo by the side. She jumped to her feet and rushed over to his side, her dress falling open in her distress to reveal a delicately sculpted shoulder. Nicholas could not help but notice, though he looked away promptly.

Angela was distraught at the sight of the barely conscious figure of Hugo. Hugo was barely conscious because it had been decided that for him to play at being completely unconscious was too hard. He could moan and move about a bit, which was an easier role to play than being stone cold still. Tagalong asked Nicholas to watch over their enemies and helped Hugo outside to the carriage. He returned with a rug which Angela wrapped around herself.

Tagalong took charge. ‘Mr Raspero, I wonder if you would be so kind as to escort Miss Ashton back to her home. I will remain here and see to it that these men are taken into custody.’

Nicholas thought about this for a moment. ‘Can you handle them on your own?’ he asked eventually.

Tagalong pretended to be offended. ‘Given that they are bound hand and foot, Mr Raspero, then the answer is surely yes.’

Nicholas nodded. ‘All right then.’ He turned to Angela. ‘Shall I escort you home, Miss Ashton?’

‘If you would be so kind,’ Angela said huskily, ‘I can only beg of you to take me away from here to a place of safety.’ Angela had been wondering how to play this game and she had settled on playing a role based on the waif Serena from The Gallant Company, who turned to the strong arms of her protector Sebastian, where she found both safety and love. It was a role she had played to wide acclaim, and she felt she could use this character as a starting point from which to approach Nicholas. She chose decorous clothes accordingly, as the more revealing garments she would later wear would come as a revelation of her beauty, although the torn condition of her decorous clothes helped make everything ambiguous.

‘All right, let’s go then,’ Nicholas said, waving towards the door. ‘After you, Miss Ashton.’

Once he had seated her in the flying carriage, Nicholas was only too happy to fly the carriage himself while Hugo huddled in the back seat, woozy and moaning softly. The flying carriage was a Wolstone, a gift to Angela from her first client, the only gift from him she had not sold.

Once Nicholas had arrived at her address, he found himself obliged to help Hugo up the stairs to Miss Ashton’s apartment. Once in Miss Ashton’s apartment, he was asked by her to wait while she changed, so he waited.

Angela took her time changing, thinking things over. She was not at all happy about having Nicholas in her apartment. She never brought clients here, and avoided any attempts on their part to see where she lived. As they were not interested enough in who she really was to pursue the matter, it was not too difficult to avoid having them here. It was easy enough to distract them with flirtation and bared shoulders if the subject ever arose. Jolly had insisted, however, that she bring Nicholas here, and so she had obeyed.

Nicholas for his part was wondering why there were six wands next door when Miss Ashton had told him she was alone. He was also wondering why the wand that had been where he had left Hugo had moved through space to join the six other wands already present, if Hugo was really so incapacitated as he had seemed.

Nicholas was naïve but he was not stupid and he was starting out on a train of thought that would have alarmed Tagalong had he been able to witness it. He was wondering how Tagalong had just happened to guide him past a place where a lady needed rescuing, given that Tagalong had himself needed rescuing just the day before. He was also wondering, now that he was in a suspicious mood, if Tagalong had ever really been invited to the party they had attended the night before, given that, now that Nicholas came to think of it, he had not seemed to be in the thick of things that night. Nicholas was, in short, wondering what was going on.

Angela came back into the room, in a light green dress (price: five hundred strada) that reached all the way up to her chin and down to her wrists, not too figure hugging. Her hair was artfully done up.

‘Please sit down, Mr Raspero,’ she said breathily. ‘Can I fix you a drink?’

‘No, thanks, I’m fine,’ Nicholas said, trying to decide whether to leave, or stay and uncover what all this was about.

‘But surely you will not leave, Mr Raspero,’ Angela pleaded. ‘Please stay. I can’t bear to be left alone right now.’

‘Yes, I’ll stay a while,’ Nicholas agreed.

‘Then please join me in having a drink. I detest drinking alone and without your company I cannot drink.’

‘All right, I’ll have a glass of red wine,’ Nicholas said, his suspicions increasing by the minute but deciding to play along. ‘Thank you.’

Angela took two dark red crystal goblets (three hundred strada each) from a shelf, careful to put the one that had a green powder out of sight in the bottom on the right so she could offer that goblet to Nicholas. She poured them each a goblet of wine from the same bottle (Yehunda wine, seventy-five strada a bottle). Nicholas had been raised on stories of his ancestor Etienne, the devious genius whose cunning was legendary, so he was not too impressed by witnessing that the wine she was pouring for him and for her came from the same bottle. Etienne’s trick had been to have a button in the neck of the bottle which, when pressed, switched the flow of wine from one compartment to another within the bottle.

Angela brought the goblet over to Nicholas and handed it to him. By then he was standing by the side of the room. He took the goblet and said, gesturing across the room, ‘That’s a nice painting.’

Angela turned to walk gracefully over to the painting (twelve hundred and fifty strada). Nicholas held the goblet by his side, out of sight of anyone secretly observing him, and tipped the wine into a waste-paper basket that was a hollowed out tree-trunk (eighty strada). He then stood there impassively, pretending to drink from the now empty goblet as she looked back at him.

‘It is an original Nadine,’ she told him. ‘He is such a splendid painter, don’t you think?’ The painting was an investment that was intended to make Angela a profit.

‘Yes,’ Nicholas said shortly, pretending to take another sip from the goblet.

‘Please sit down, Mr Raspero,’ Angela suggested.

‘Thank you.’ Nicholas sat in a chair facing the door behind which were the six wands keeping him and Angela silent company. He pretended to drink again from the goblet.

‘I cannot thank you enough for what you have done for me,’ Angela told him sweetly, changing the use of her voice, as her breathy voice did not seem to be affecting Nicholas. She focused on achieving a musical tone.

‘That’s all right,’ Nicholas said. He pretended to drink deeply from the goblet until he had drained it, then set the goblet down on the table. He sat back in the chair, ignoring the footstool nearby.

‘Could I pour you some more wine?’ Angela asked him.

‘No thanks, I’ll be leaving shortly,’ Nicholas replied, and pretended to yawn. He sat back trying to look a bit sleepy, blinking his eyes.

‘Please make yourself comfortable, Mr Raspero,’ Angela said in her most soothing voice. ‘Close your eyes and rest if you wish. You have been through such a trying ordeal fighting those evil men.’

Nicholas realised his guess had been right. The wine had been drugged, and now she was trying to put him under with her soothing voice and advice about having a rest. He closed his eyes with his hand on his wand and practised macchato. He could see her look at him and then heard her say softly, ‘Mr Raspero?’ He made no response. She pulled out her wand and tapped on the door opposite Nicholas.

Several men entered the room, their wands out. ‘Bind him,’ one of them said, and by macchato Nicholas could see which of them it was. As the karns came flying through the air Nicholas moved. He drew his feet up and sent himself over the chair in a backward somersault.

Nicholas waved his wand to pluck the karns out of the air, gathering them in his left hand while his opponents paused, wands outstretched. Then Nicholas flipped himself forward into a somersault which ended in his feet planted in the chest of one of his opponents who went back into the wall with a shout of anger, knocking a vase (five hundred strada) off the table to smash on the floor. Nicholas used his momentum to drop down to the ground and roll to his right. In two movements he had two men down on the ground amidst a shattered table (two hundred strada). He gathered their wands into his left hand, having bound them hand and foot with their own karns, while they were still falling through the air. The man who had been giving the orders stood to one side taking no part in the fighting while his remaining men, who were four in number, including an energetic and much-recovered Hugo, crouched facing him bringing out more karns and attacking him with a variety of combinations. Nicholas soon disarmed them and bound them hand and foot, but not without the destruction of a crystalline sculpture (three hundred strada), a glass tray (two hundred strada) and a ceramic globe of the world (six hundred strada).

Angela looked at the broken Greig vase on the floor; that vase cost five hundred strada. The table it had been on was shattered: two hundred strada. The sculpture, the tray, the globe … she was busy adding up the cost of all this destruction when she found herself bound hand and foot and thrown into a chair. This did not stop her calculations: eighteen hundred strada worth of damage!

Nicholas looked around at his prisoners, who looked back at him without saying a word. Then Nicholas returned to his chair and sat down. This time he pulled over the footstool and stretched out. He looked at the man who had been giving the orders earlier, the man who must be in charge of this lot.

‘So what’s going on?’ Nicholas asked him.

‘Introductions are by third party,’ the man told him and turned to Angela. ‘Angela, my dear, perhaps you will introduce us.’

‘Jolly, this is Mr Nicholas Raspero,’ Angela said, still angered by the damage to her property. ‘Mr Raspero, this is Mr Frank Jollison.’

‘So what’s this all about, Mr Jollison?’ Nicholas asked.

‘I would strongly advise you to end this foolishness and untie me, Mr Raspero. I will not talk to you while I am treated in this fashion.’

‘So you’re a gentleman?’ Nicholas asked Jolly, who said nothing in return. ‘I can demand satisfaction from you, then?’

‘I have already said that I will not speak to you while I am tied up, Mr Raspero. If you wish to speak to me, then untie me.’

‘No, I’ll make your bonds tighter while you reconsider your position,’ Nicholas said. He pointed his wand and tightened the cords until they cut off the circulation to Jolly’s hands and feet. Jolly writhed in fury, then began to breathe heavily.

‘Mr Raspero, you will loosen these bonds. Do you understand?’

‘I thought you weren’t talking to me until you were untied,’ Nicholas said.

‘Mr Raspero, you will untie me or you will make an enemy of me. You do not want me as your enemy, believe me. Untie me, now!’

Nicholas raised his left hand in order to carefully inspect his fingernails. Jolly was breathing heavily, his face twisted in fury, but then he groaned, then said, ‘Very well, Mr Raspero, perhaps you might loosen my bonds. I have indeed reconsidered my position.’ No-one present had ever seen Jolly back down before.

Nicholas loosened Jolly’s bonds and waited. Jolly groaned and strove to move his fingers. It took him several minutes, but in time his fingers were moving normally again. Jolly seemed relieved at this, as if he had worried that his circulation would never return to normal.

‘So I can demand satisfaction from you then?’ Nicholas asked.

‘I do not accept challenges, Mr Raspero,’ Jolly replied.

‘Then you are not a gentleman,’ Nicholas told him, ‘are you?’

‘I am a gentleman who does not accept challenges,’ Jolly said.

Jolly was so used to being an absolute monarch that the indignity of his current position was taking time to sink in. He felt no fear, but rather an anger that was directed now to regaining his liberty so that he could destroy Nicholas. The thought that he might be in danger from Nicholas never crossed his mind. An absolute monarch was never in danger from anyone. As far as he was concerned, this situation was temporary, very temporary, and he would have his revenge.

‘So what’s this all about, Mr Jollison?’ Nicholas asked him.

Jolly looked at him, and then decided he didn’t want his circulation cut off again. ‘You are a man of rare gifts, Mr Raspero. I wished to learn whether you would be interested in an offer of employment.’

‘Do you always tie people up before offering them a job?’ Nicholas asked.

As it happened, Jolly did not always adopt such an approach to a job interview, but neither was this exactly the first time that he had. Jolly dodged the question. ‘I sought to restrain you to make clear that you have offended me. Once that had been made clear to you, I naturally would have released you without any harm coming to your person. I only sought to make a debating point, Mr Raspero.’

‘How have I offended you?’ Nicholas asked, feeling that they were coming at last to what this was all about.

‘You have incurred a debt that I wish you to repay,’ Jolly said.

‘What debt? And incurred how?’

‘The sum of five hundred and eighty strada, incurred by robbing five of my men in Octave Alley quite recently.’ Jolly nodded at the men who were with him, who had all been on Octave Alley that night.

‘How come their money is yours?’ Nicholas asked, trying to figure out who this man was.

‘Because they are my men,’ Jolly said.

‘Well, firstly, it was two hundred and seventy two strada I took from them, and secondly, I don’t accept that I am obliged to repay you the money, whatever the sum.’

No Tin and his men were shaking their heads and objecting to this statement by Nicholas, but Jolly ignored them. Jolly had already guessed that his men had faked the figures, so he was not too surprised to hear Nicholas say this. He decided to be generous for the time being. Vengeance came to those who waited. ‘Very well, Mr Raspero. I will accept your own account of the matter. The sum for you to repay me is that of two hundred and seventy two strada.’

Nicholas pointed his wand at the fireplace and banged the fire-starter to light the fire which was set there, given the unseasonable coldness of the weather lately. The paper burned merrily and the kindling started to crackle. ‘I take great offence at you attempting to drug me and bind me,’ Nicholas told Jolly. ‘Very great offence. I think you should be punished for what you have tried to do, and I think you should be punished very severely.’

‘You would find that I would be your worst enemy if you were to carry out such a threat, Mr Raspero.’

Nicholas then stood up and went over to Jolly. He searched him and took away everything he had found on Jolly. Nicholas sorted through what he had taken. Jolly furiously said nothing.

There was a wad of bank notes, totaling twelve hundred strada. In the silence of those watching what he was doing, Nicholas threw the bank notes onto the fire.

The attention of all eight of Nicholas’s prisoners were fixed on those burning bank notes as if it was the most remarkable sight they had ever seen. They were unable to tear themselves away from the spectacle.

‘Perhaps you now wish to say, Mr Jollison, that I owe you an additional twelve hundred strada,’ Nicholas said. ‘Yes or no?’

‘That was a very foolish thing to do, Mr Raspero,’ Jolly said, his voice trembling with anger. He could not remember when he had last been so angry.

‘Do you live at the Burke Tavern?’ Nicholas asked.

‘No, I do not. But why should you say that?’ Jolly asked, watching the last of his bank notes turning to ash.

‘Just a guess,’ said Nicholas. ‘So this is about money. Have I understood you correctly?’

‘It is about a debt you have incurred, Mr Raspero,’ Jolly said, still furious at having seen those bank notes burn. ‘A debt is not only about money. It involves the integrity of the debtor. Do you claim that a debt should not be repaid?’

Nicholas looked at Jolly in silence, still trying to figure out the situation he found himself in as a result purely of the decisions taken by his would-be captor. Who was he, anyway, exactly? ‘So Mr Longman works for you,’ Nicholas said. ‘I have already guessed that.’

‘Who is Mr Longman?’ Jolly asked.

‘I am surprised that you should go to so much trouble over two hundred and seventy two strada. I am starting to think that this is a matter of principle for you, Mr Jollison.’

‘I am glad to see that you are starting to think clearly, Mr Raspero. The preservation of my property is indeed a matter of principle for me.’

‘Is it now?’ Nicholas said thoughtfully. ‘I’m starting to understand you better, Mr Jollison.’

Jolly saw this as a chance to build rapport between himself and his captor. ‘I understand you, Mr Raspero, I understand you well. But you do not yet understand me, Mr Raspero. I am a man of many interests. A man of your talents can be of some use to me, you must realise this yourself, Mr Raspero, and I can only hope that you will come to realise the benefits you may acquire through an association with a man of my varied interests. I guarantee you, Mr Raspero, that I can make you a millionaire in less than a year if you agree to co-operate with me on only two or three ventures. I can begin by providing you with the sum of one hundred thousand strada as an advance. Furthermore, just to make plain the sincerity of my intentions, I will forgive you the debt you have incurred and we will say no more about it. Now you understand me, I think, Mr Raspero.’

‘So it’s back to the job offer now, is it?’ Nicholas asked.

‘Indeed it is, Mr Raspero,’ Jolly agreed, searching Nicholas’s face for any kind of clues as to whether he was making progress.

‘And how long do you plan to let me live to enjoy the benefits that such a large amount of money would bring me?’ Nicholas asked Jolly.

‘The benefits of our mutual association will preclude any such intentions on my part,’ Jolly said, and at that moment it might even have been true. The chance of having a man like Nicholas working for him was indeed so tantalising that Jolly might have brought himself to put this matter to one side for twenty years or so before taking his revenge.

‘Mr Jollison, let me make something perfectly clear right now. After today, I have no desire to ever look upon your stupid face ever again, nor to be subject to the stink of the gutter which you emanate from every pore of your mind and body. If we are to make an agreement, it will be on the basis that I never have to put up with the stinking unpleasantness of your presence ever again. Keep your money. I don’t want it. I trust that you understand me?’

Jolly nodded slowly, giving no indication as to whether he had been offended by what Nicholas had just said. ‘It is a matter of personal regret to me, Mr Raspero, that we have failed to establish that mutual rapport which I always hoped to establish. But naturally I accept your condition without argument.’

‘So, we are enemies now, are we not, Mr Jollison?’

‘Mr Raspero, I have only sought the return of what I consider to be rightfully mine. I understand, however, that you see things differently. I have decided accordingly, to let bygones be bygones, and forgive you this debt. There is no need for any further unpleasantness between us. This matter need go no further.’

‘But how do we come to an agreement and walk away from this confrontation without concern as to future consequences?’

‘You need have nothing further to fear from me, Mr Raspero. You have demonstrated yourself to be such a formidable opponent that there is no need for you to doubt that I have learned my lesson. As I have forgiven you the debt, the bone of contention between us has been removed. I am perfectly prepared to forgive you for what you have done to me today on the understanding that there will be peace between us.’

‘If you were a gentleman, I could accept your word of honour that you would be bound by any agreement we make, and in that way we could make an agreement. But you are not a gentleman, and I see no reason to believe you will be bound by any agreement we make once you are no longer bound by those leather cords.’

‘That is simply not so, Mr Raspero,’ Jolly declared. ‘I am bound by my word, and there is no question about it, none at all. You may ask anyone who knows me.’ He looked across at his employees. ‘Go on, tell Mr Raspero that this is so.’

They all obediently told Mr Raspero that this was so. Jolly was always bound by his word, they insisted. Nicholas did not look too impressed by their testimony.

Nicholas considered this for a while, then shook his head. ‘You are a poisonous snake, Jolly. You will coil yourself in a hidden place and strike back at me when you can. It is only a matter of opportunity and patience.’

‘You gravely misunderstand me, Mr Raspero,’ Jolly said.

‘No,’ Nicholas said, shaking his head again, ‘I don’t think I do.’

‘You most certainly do, Mr Raspero,’ Jolly insisted. ‘I have no desire whatsoever to prolong our enmity.’

‘Neither do I,’ Nicholas said, ‘which is why I want to deal with you today.’

‘You are no murderer, Mr Raspero,’ Jolly said.

‘I will not murder you,’ Nicholas agreed, ‘although if you were a gentleman I would demand a duel of final combat. But then, if you were a gentleman I could accept your word of honour and we could come to an agreement. But we are now going in circles.’

Jolly was relieved to hear that Nicholas was not going to murder him. He had suspected that Nicholas could not do so, by his own code of honour as a gentleman, given that the only offence Nicholas had suffered was merely the threat of being tied up. Jolly brought this into his calculations, starting to feel more confident now. ‘May I ask you what you intend to do, Mr Raspero?’ Jolly asked calmly.

Nicholas thought for a while in silence and then said, ‘What would you suggest, Mr Jollison?’

‘I would suggest that you untie me without delay, Mr Raspero,’ Jolly said promptly.

Nicholas leaned back lazily in his chair, stretching his feet out on the footstool, and yawned slightly. ‘Any other thoughts, Mr Jollison?’

It was then that Jolly made his strategic blunder. He had decided that Nicholas was an insignificant opponent who just happened to have a high degree of skill with a wand. So therefore all he had to do was apply enough pressure and Nicholas would come into line. Jolly was not used to anything except having his own way and so his current circumstances had thrown askew his normally exact judgement. Jolly was also in a temper from having been insulted by Nicholas after having been injured by the same. So it was that Jolly stepped into the abyss.

‘My understanding is that you are a recent arrival to New Landern, Mr Raspero,’ Jolly said affably. His geniality sent a shiver down the spines of all those of his party present, who knew him well. ‘You may not have heard of the unfortunate fate of the Beaman family, who were all murdered not so long ago in their beds late at night, the parents and all three young children. The culprits were never found and are no doubt still at large. It would be a matter of grave concern to me if the Clark family, the parents and their three children and your cousin Mr Benjamin Clark, were also to be murdered late at night in their beds. I am prepared, as a gesture of friendship, to see to it that the Clark family are given such protection that such a fate could not possibly befall them. However, I would require an undertaking on your part that you would accept some form of employment from me, given such terms and conditions as are acceptable to us both. By these means, we may make peace between us while also gaining some benefit from our mutual acquaintance or even friendship.’

‘Give me a moment,’ Nicholas said. ‘Let me think about this.’ He plunged deep into thought while his prisoners watched him, occasionally looking amongst themselves, except for Jolly, whose eyes never left Nicholas’s face. He was like a snake watching its prey with its gleamingly blank black eye intent on the presence of that prey to the exclusion of all else. Seeing the look on his face, Angela shivered slightly. She knew that look, and she could not help but feel that Nicholas was too soft to prevail over Jolly. His refusal to murder Jolly was not an encouraging sign. He talked well and was talented, but Jolly’s stomach was made of granite, and Jolly thought nothing of murder.

Nicholas came to a decision. He stood up and went next door without another word. He came back with a couple of blankets he had taken from a cupboard and started tearing them into strips. Three hundred strada each those blankets cost me, Angela thought in outrage. Six hundred strada! Twenty-four hundred strada!

Nicholas checked their bonds and used the strips of the blanket to tie them all very securely to the chairs where they were sitting and gagged them while he was about it. When he was satisfied with his work he stood back and said, ‘I will leave you now for a while. I will return.’ Then he left, closing and locking the door behind him as he left.

Jolly wondered what he was up to now. It was most likely that Nicholas had gone to fetch the law. That would be an outcome favourable to Jolly. Even if he was taken into custody, it would only be a matter of time before he regained his freedom. He might even be in a position to demand that Nicholas be questioned by the authorities, and once Nicholas was in their hands, Jolly could very easily arrange for an accident to happen to him. He was a man of influence with connections he could use. He knew a lot of the dirty secrets of those in power, and they would do as he asked to avoid exposure; the accidental death of a nobody like Nicholas Raspero would not be very much for him to ask, or rather, demand of them. There was only one doubt which troubled Jolly, however, about whether or not this preferred outcome would take place, and that was that Nicholas had not turned to the law when he had been subject to attempted robbery in Octave Alley. Like Angela, however, he had decided that Nicholas was talented but soft. He was not too worried about his current predicament, believing it was only a matter of time before he regained his freedom, and thus his chance for revenge, and he would now have revenge, of that there was no doubt whatsoever. Nothing less than the death of Nicholas Raspero would suffice now, and if possible, that death would be the most painful he could devise if Nicholas fell into his hands. But if necessary, a quick death by assassination would have to do. These were the thoughts of Jolly as he waited for Nicholas to return.