‘So,’ Geoffrey said, ‘Abdul suggested repeating the trick.’

‘I arranged for a corpse to be dumped on the shore near Palos. As it happens,’ Abdul said grimly, ‘the south of Spain has not been short of corpses these last few years. I ensured the man, a Christian, had drowned. I dyed his skin yellow-brown with tea, and added some tattoos for good measure. And I cut him around his eyes, for everybody knows that the Chinese have odd narrow eyes with folds of skin across the corners. Such a corpse at Palos was bound to come to Colon’s attention, and so it did. Now he parades around the court with diagrams of the wretched man, and even dried bits of flayed skin to show off my fake tattoos.’

Geoffrey laughed. ‘Gruesome but ingenious.’

‘But will it be enough?’ Harry said gloomily. ‘All we have to turn Colon’s head is a bit of scholarship and a dubious corpse, against Grace Bigod’s engines...’

‘It will have to be enough,’ Geoffrey said.

Abdul said with a trace of bitterness, ‘Of course Grace and Ferron do not admit to their clients how much Bacon’s work was helped by the studies performed for my ancestress Subh by Moorish scholars and artisans. After all, Sihtric took his designs to al-Andalus because he knew the best scholarship in Europe was available there. When Joan of the Outremer took possession of the Codex, she plundered what had been achieved there as well, though all Subh’s Moorish workers had fled from the approach of the Christians. It is part of a wider story, as Christendom plunders al-Andalus of learning as well as gold—’

‘And thereby rediscovers its own lost past,’ Geoffrey said gently. ‘Can that be such a bad thing, Abdul?’

‘Yes, if Moorish scholarship is now to be turned against the Moors!’

Geoffrey pulled his lip. ‘Well, we must have patience. We will watch Grace Bigod’s display of fire, and see what we can learn. Now. Who can spare a penny for more of this filthy beer?’

XVII

XVII

The December day dawned bright and clear. Even in mid-morning the sun was still low over the abandoned village, so that the hummocks and green-clad shells of the ruined houses cast long shadows over the dewy ground.

And James, looking down on this scene from his ridge, could already hear the crump of explosions, the cries of men, and the clanking, hissing noises of monstrous engines. He grinned with anticipation. Let Bartolomeo Colon be unmoved by this!

As for himself, since before dawn James had been atop this rough limestone ridge, making ready. He was wearing leather trousers and a close-fitting quilted coat that he belted tight around his body. He knew from earlier trials that the wind and grit would get in his eyes, and so he wore a special cap with a long peak and panels protruding before his cheeks. He tied its strap under his chin before donning his gloves.