Spice and the Devil's Cave Read Online Free Page A

he glanced at the one remaining customer in the room, the one who had come in so quietly. – The boy with the eyes!
    Arms folded on his chest, head dropped a little forward, the great eyes seemed to burn far into some future world. Glowing fires, thought Nicolo; the most extraordinary eyes ever lodged in a human head; uncanny, only for the sheer beauty of them.
    The boy looked up, surprising his scrutiny. “Interesting, weren’t they?” he said, nodding toward the departed sailors. “I saw you listening to them.”
    â€œYou Portuguese have a right to be very proud of your navigators,” Nicolo said warmly, responding to this friendly ignoring of formalities.
    The boy seemed to seize at the last words. “Have you done any voyaging-seen any sea service?” he demanded.
    â€œOnly in the Mediterranean – but enough to get my sea legs,” laughed Nicolo. “I take it you’ve been to sea, or expect to go?”
    â€œAs soon as I can!”
    Nicolo caught the note of impatience in the brief reply. “Perhaps your people won’t let you go?” he suggested.
    â€œNo – not till I’ve finished my tour of duty at the palace.” He flushed as though embarrassed at revealing so much to a stranger. “You see, I’m a page,” he explained with a little grimace, “and I’ve a half dozen more years of service.”
    Their eyes met, understandingly, and Nicolo laughed. There was something refreshing, lovable, in this frankness. “So in the meantime you get the sea at second hand from The Green Window!”
    The boy nodded. “Every chance I see, I slip out of my uniform and into some old hunting clothes they sent me from home, and come down here. It’s good to be quit of those stiff things that saw your neck in two, and keep you laced up so tight you can’t breathe!” He ran his fingers around the open throat of his loose leather jacket and squirmed luxuriously.
    â€œA homesick, country lad,” Nicolo silently mused, as much touched as he was amused by the ingenuous gesture. But well born, you could tell, from that forthright way of his. No heritage of the yoke in him! Aloud, “Old clothes are a comfort,” he agreed. “What do you have to do at the palace?”
    â€œOh, play errand boy, serve the King at table, stand by when he rides or drives out, wait on the ladies for this, that, and the other.”
    â€œNot too exciting, eh? I don’t believe I envy you!”
    â€œIt’s deadly,” the other pursued, “the routine that a page has to go through, like a dog at its tricks. I never could see the sense of pulling on the King’s hose for him! And-” he lowered his voice, “why the devil shouldn’t a woman pick up her own handkerchief when she drops it?”
    â€œSh – careful!” Nicolo laughed under his breath. “Women have a way of getting back at rebels like you! By the way,” he ventured, “didn’t I see you on the dock this morning?” Almost, he had added “What were you looking for?”
    â€œI was certainly down there,” the boy returned, “and I saw you- twice! You made a friend for life out of that sugar dealer!”
    â€œTo tell the truth, I was thinking of my own interests as much as his! It was hardly good business to make an enemy the moment I’d set foot here, where I expect to stay.”
    The great eyes lighted up. “You really mean to live here? Good! I thought I heard you say something like that, when you and the captain were talking. I – I –“the colour rose to his cheeks –“listened to you!”
    â€œOh, so you understand Italian?” Nicolo laughed, inwardly amused with the ingenuous admission.
    â€œAfter a fashion; you know, we pick up a smatter of everything in the palace. But you have me beaten, the way you speak our language. Didn’t I hear you mention pirates?”