Ilario, the Stone Golem (4 page)

‘This makes twice King Rodrigo’s ordered you home.’ I paused,

bending down to touch the fluff on Onorata’s head. ‘And as we said in

Rome, it’s understandable. You retire, rich. You head home for Taraco.

No man sees you. The first thing you do is leave again for Carthage—’

‘That was to visit you!’ Honorius looked mulish.

‘I know that! You know that! The King doesn’t know that!’

Onorata began grizzling.

Rekhmire’ leaned his crutch against the hearth-surround, and lifted

Onorata out of her cot into his lap. His arm supported her head with a

professional care. I did not know whether to feel pleasure or jealousy that

she subsided at once into whining mutters.

Voice soft and even, Rekhmire’ said, ‘Ilario’s correct. King Rodrigo

doesn’t
know. He has a foreign general come home – foreign, because twenty-five years in Navarra and Castile means no man knows you. You

have the reputation of “the Lion of Castile”—’

The Egyptian pressed on when Honorius would have interrupted:

‘—Whatever you think of your reputation, you have it. You return to

Taraconensis, you ask your King for nothing, and you go to Carthage.

Exactly
when, as far as he’s concerned, Carthage has just robbed him of

his First Minister!’

My father spluttered.

I took the opportunity to speak. ‘Either Federico will have written, or

Videric will have told King Rodrigo himself, that you’re my father.’

And if that interview took place between Videric and Rodrigo

Sanguerra, I would like to have witnessed it. Between Videric’s

embarrassment at being cuckolded, and Rodrigo’s ferocious temper at

not having been told all this before, I thought I would have found it very

satisfying.

Rekhmire’ handed Onorata up to me and reclaimed his own drinking

bowl. ‘Which, of course, makes Videric all the more dangerous now.

Viler things have been done out of fear than ever stemmed from anger or

revenge.’

Honorius sprang to his feet, his fingers white against the green glaze of

his wine bowl. ‘I can’t believe my supposed
King
thinks me disloyal!’

Watching Honorius’s stiff back as he stalked over to the window, I

doubted he would conceive of anyone believing him that.

I rocked Onorata gently in my arms. ‘You didn’t return from Rome at

his request.’

‘I—’ Honorius spun on his boot-heel, pointing at Rekhmire’. ‘Your

messengers caught me up!’

16

The Egyptian nodded. ‘Which is why I thought hard before I wrote. I

knew it might look bad.’

Honorius set his jaw. ‘I can sort this out ten minutes after I set foot in

Taraco harbour – which I
will
, once I have assurances of my son-

daughter’s and grand-daughter’s safety!’

Onorata stretched up her hand and prodded at my chin, although the

contact may have been accidental. Judging by the slant of the light, she

would be hungry soon.

‘If I were Aldra Videric,’ I said absently, playing catch-finger with the

baby, ‘I’d be telling Rodrigo Sanguerra that you came back from Castile

with the express intent of talking
his
place as First Minister. I’d tell the King you’re in alliance with Carthage. That when Taraconensis gets

legions sent in to keep the kingdom safe from crusading Franks, the

military governor they put in place of the King will be Aldra Captain-

General Honorius.’

Honorius stared at me. Rekhmire’ too, I noted.

‘Rodrigo will be thinking that you
planned
to work with Carthage, to use me to get rid of Videric.’ I shook my head. ‘What? I was at court! I

learned how all this works so that I could stay out of it!’

‘Goddamn!’ Honorius muttered in one of the northern Frankish

dialects. ‘Bloody goddamn . . . I swear you’re right. Since the King

doesn’t merely threaten his anger—’

‘What else?’ Rekhmire’ leaned forward on his stool, wincing at some

pain in his knee-joint. ‘There’s more?’

‘Oh, there’s more . . . ’ Honorius’s lean body straightened, his hand

closing around the remaining pages. Tendons and cartilege pulled taut

under his skin; altered all the planes of light and shadow that made up his

face.

‘King Rodrigo Sanguerra is generously pleased to write me a
warning
.’

Honorius’s voice rasped. ‘You may read it here, on this second page. He

writes to tell me he’s taken certain precautions for the safety of my new

estates. In my absence.’

Honorius’s forefinger tapped a tattoo on the paper.

‘He’s sent his royal troops in, to protect my lands against bandits – and

against land-hungry nobles, who might jump in while I’m away. It seems

that four hundred gentlemen and squires in the King’s service are

billeted on my land, in my castle – for which my estate naturally has to

pay bed and board.’

His hand closed up, paper crumpling into a tight ball.

‘Four hundred royal men-at-arms eating their bellies full at
my

expense! And I get this favour
because
I’m so loyal to the Crown! Rodrigo

Sanguerra’s doing me this favour because “is unwise to leave land

unprotected in these uncertain times” . . . ’

Rekhmire’ had the look he wore during mathematical calculation. ‘Will

your estates support that many men? How many of your own are there?’

17

Honorius rubbed his brow hard. ‘Thirty, thirty-five knights, and their

lances? Say six or eight men to a lance . . . Three hundred-odd came

home from Castile with me to settle down; act as my stewards, overseers,

and the like. Marry local girls. I left most there when I came to Rome.

Now – they won’t dare disobey the King’s orders. And they can’t fight

off four hundred men without a bloodbath on both sides.’

He stared, for a long silent moment; the flames of the fire were within

his view but I doubted he saw them.

‘And, no.’ Honorius looked up at Rekhmire’ as if he had only just

remembered what he had been asked. ‘My lands can’t
support
four

hundred extra men! They’ll eat their way through the storerooms and the

granaries, their horses will empty my stables, my stewards will run the

coffers dry attempting to fulfil this responsibility . . . I left no man with the authority to go into debt on my behalf, but I won’t be surprised to get

back and find they’ve gone to the Etruscans or the Jews.’

He dropped the ball of paper to the floor and ground it under the heel

of his boot.

‘If Rodrigo’s men-at-arms are anything like mine, they’ll be living off

the land inside a couple of months! That means the noblemen whose

lands border mine won’t be friends or allies of mine. Not if their fodder

and crops are being raided.’

He glanced at me, with a sour smile containing admiration.

‘King Rodrigo notes that, if I were disloyal, he wouldn’t gift me this

“small contingent” to protect my estates against insurrection from

outside.
And
revolt from inside. Which means that if any of my lads protest, they’ll find themselves accused of being rebels exploiting
my

absence! And meanwhile the King can go on draining away my resources

and making enemies of my neighbours . . . Until I go back to Taraco.’

One of his hands made a fist: I noted how it thickened the tendons in

his wrist.

‘What I
resent
is that publicly Rodrigo will be seen to be doing

something intelligent! In effect, he levies a fine on me that I can’t refuse

to pay.
He’s
not having to support those troops himself, all the while this

goes on. And no supporter of mine, if I have any, can point to the King

being unfair, because he’s
protecting
me!’

I echoed Honorius, quietly for the child in my arms. ‘Goddamn!’

Rekhmire’ replaced his wine bowl on the chess table. ‘I begin to see

why it’s not merely Aldra Videric who’s kept Taraconensis free and

peaceful, this past generation and more! In every other man’s eyes, King

Rodrigo is doing something legal, something moral, to aid you. And

meanwhile—’

The Alexandrine lifted one hand and mimicked a twisting motion.

Honorius laughed harshly. ‘Meanwhile the bloody screws tighten, until

my thumbs begin to bleed!’

My father threw himself down on the wooden settle, stretching out

18

one long leg, and watching as I replaced Onorata in her cot. I hoped her

doze would last.

‘Ilario.’ Honorius spoke quietly. ‘There’s no need for you to be

concerned over this. I didn’t come home from Castile poor. It’ll take a

year or two longer to get the estates in order, that’s all. A good harvest next year or the year after and we’re set.’

I rubbed my back as I straightened up. ‘I can see why you never went

in for politics. You’re a really bad liar.’

Rekhmire’ spluttered.

Honorius, with an unwillingly pleased look, said, ‘I can deceive and

feint on the field of battle. But you’re right: I can’t tell lies worth a damn.

I see I should tell you the truth in future, you’ll find it more reassuring.’

‘I suppose that’s one word for it . . . ’

Honorius added, ‘I’m not leaving Venice.’

He barely sounded stubborn about it. Twenty or thirty years of taking

and giving orders – especially the giving – and even his common

pronouncements tend to sound like statements of irrefutable fact. As for

anything he thinks he’s made his mind up over . . .

‘You are leaving!’

It didn’t sound at all impressive in my emphatic tenor. Perhaps

because of the alto squeak that crept in, despite my efforts. I glared at the

grey-haired soldier.

Not looking up from the page he studied, Rekhmire’ observed, ‘Going

to Taraco might, now, be very advantageous – I know what I would do

if I were in Rodrigo Sanguerra’s situation. I would offer the post of First

Minister to Honorius.’

‘
What!
’ I turned to face him rapidly enough that I had to bend over,

hands pressing against my stitches through my petticoats. I breathed

hard. ‘You think the King should give Honorius
Videric’s
job?’

Honorius exploded into a chuckle and glanced between us, as if we

were there for his entertainment.

The Egyptian ticked off points on his fingers. ‘It would provide

stability for Taraconensis. They would have a First Minister again, and it

would be a war hero – twenty-five years of service in the Crusades. King

Rodrigo is seen to have a powerful man at his side.
And
it to some degree

fixes Honorius under Taraco’s standard – how can Captain-General

Licinus Honorius sneak off to Carthage and claim to want to be the

“strong governor” Taraconensis needs, if he’s already King Rodrigo’s

first adviser?’

Honorius slapped his leg in evident delight.

I snorted. That caught my stitches, too. ‘You’re forgetting one thing.

Videric
wouldn’t
let
him
do
it!
’

‘Possibly. But even Aldra Videric must now be conjecturing that the

King gains no current advantage from listening to
him
.’ Rekhmire’ shot

me a sharp gaze. ‘I grant you the risk of your father returning to Taraco.

19

But consider this. Master Honorius was twenty-five years in Castile and

Leon.’

Honorius gave me a small, silent shrug.

‘And?’ I was as bewildered.

‘I had some communication with scroll-collectors in Burgos and

Salamanca and Avila, before winter set in.’ Rekhmire’’s rounded

features smoothed into a shrewd expression. ‘They confirmed what I

recall of Castile and Leon – a snake-pit of political alliances and

betrayals. All of which, Ilario, your father has steadfastly ignored.’

If Honorius spoke, it would be to snap,
Of
course!
I quickly gestured for Rekhmire’ to continue.

‘King Juan the Second of Castile has one infallibly loyal man,’ the

Egyptian said. ‘Called Alvaro, Count di Luna. Who, because of that

position as the King’s favourite, is the most powerful single individual in

northern Iberia. In more than two decades, Master Honorius never

joined any conspiracy against King Juan’s favourite. More: he never tried

to strike up a partnership with Alvaro di Luna.’

‘You think Rodrigo Sanguerra will draw conclusions from that?’

Rekhmire’ handed the page of King Rodrigo’s letter back towards my