Nash sighed."I hope nobody in St. George has a telescope. Who lives there, do you know?"
"It's called the condottieri town," explained Alicia."All Renaissance Italians. The other big Italian settlement, in upper Manhattan, is all Romans: baths, togas, and oratory. They're allied with the Aryans, I suppose you know, but these aren't. Now tell me what this is all about."
Nash told briefly the story of his visit to the sultan's palace, and added that when they landed, the harem could do as it individually or collectively pleased.
"Swell!" cried Alicia.
"I... uh... don't suppose you'll want to return to Arslan?"
"Good heavens, no! Me be satisfied with one three hundred and sixty-fifth of a husband? What'll we do with his money?"
"I've been wondering. I ought to get some sort of salvage fee out of it; thought I could let him know where he could pick up the rest, that it—"
"Salvage fee! Prosper, don't you know Arslan'll be out for your blood now whether you let him recover his loot or not? Why not be sensible and keep it all?"
"That would be stealing."
"He stole it in the first place, didn't he?"
"I suppose so, but I won't steal it in the second. Maybe I'm dumb, but that's how it is."
"Well, if you don't want it, I guess we girls can use it. I doubt if there's over half a million there anyway, counting the jewels. That won't look so big when it's split three hundred-odd ways."
Nash whistled."Gosh! I can just imagine parading through a town full of tough Renaissance Italians with half a million bucks and three hundred and sixty-five harem beauties. How far do you think we'll get?"
"Mm-m-m. Tell you what. Arslan undoubtedly loaded his full dress arms and armor aboard. Some of us girls used to be pretty athletic before Arslan caught us, and there ought to be enough gold-hiked swords and diamond-studded helmets to outfit a squad."
"Wouldn't it be better to arm the slaves?"
She lowered her voice."I wouldn't. They'll catch on to what we're up to eventually, and then there's no telling."
"Anyway," said Nash, "we'd better keep together for a while, don't you think? Those girls probably have homes all over, and between the condottieri here and the war in Manhattan they might have trouble reaching them alone."
"Right. It wouldn't do to pay them off at the dock and say 'run along, girls. '"
"O. K. Now suppose you put your clothes on?"
She complied; Nash politely turned his back, and got a playful kick in the pants for his pains.
"You," he said reproachfully, "are no lady!" But she was already gone, laughing.
Whew! So this child of nature was the astral body of his prim friend Alice! It looked as though he would have her as regular girl friend for the rest of his stay on this plane. His spine tingled at the thought; a stouter comrade and a more spectacular ornament he could hardly ask for. But she would not be the easiest person to handle; like trying to use Smiley as a lap dog.
"Here's your Amazon army, Prosper," said Alicia, as he turned at the sound of giggles.
The sultan had packed enough military equipment to outfit fourteen of them, and they had eked out his helmets and mail shirts with some of his gaudier pieces of civilian attire. The glittering result might have stepped off the stage of a Rimski-Korsakov opera.
She explained: "Only six of the girls wanted to go back to Arslan. Some of the others thought they did, but changed their minds when I told them we were going to divide up his money. Most of the others have real husbands and lovers to return to."
"Will those six make any trouble?"
"I persuaded them not to," She looked thoughtfully at a barked knuckle.
"How much stuff will we have to carry?"
"There are about twenty chests. We emptied a couple getting up these outfits, and I think if we throw out the junk—silks and feminine doodads—we can cut the number down to seven or eight."
Nash went below to investigate. The load of coin and plate made the chests too heavy for any one man to carry. Two of them were emptied of coin by distributing their contents among some of the women to carry on their persons. Nash insisted on entering the names of the two hundred-odd girls in his notebook, with the amount given each to tote. There remained six chests of jewelry, art objects, and gold and silver tableware.
"We need some wheelbarrows," he said."Also we want to know where to go when we land. Do any of you girls know of a place that would hold you all?"
"Louise would know," volunteered one of the girls."She used to live on Staten Island."
Louise was sought out. Yes, there were several places, if they were not at present occupied: a Renaissance palazzo in the middle of St. George, a somewhat ruinous castle in New Brighton, a Georgian mansion in Richmond—
"I think the castle is our best bet," said Nash.
"But how on earth will you find out whether we can occupy it?" queried Alicia.
"They probably have real estate agents on the island, Renaissance or no Renaissance. Hey, what's that?"
That was a small be jeweled hunting horn. Nash said: "That'll be useful. I'm figuring out a procession that'll set the Staten Islanders back on their heels so far they won't think of bothering us. When we dock, everybody goes below except the girls with the swords and guns, while I go ashore and make arrangements."
Nash tossed the painter to a loafer on the dock, a man wearing a little round cap and hose tights with one red leg and one blue.
"Morning, m'sieur," said Nash as he scrambled up."Could you tell me where I can buy some wheelbarrows?"
The loafer directed him to a shop a couple of blocks from the dock. Several other men stopped to stare at the barge flotilla, but none ventured close. Kulu was shuffling about the deck as far as his chain would let him, and Smiley was grumbling a bit with hunger.
Nash bought his wheelbarrows, ordered them delivered to the dock at once, and was referred further to the office of a realty agent named Benvenuto Lorenzo Franchetti.
The address turned out to be that of a medium-sized baroque palace, full of mice and corkscrew-shaped pillars, and occupied by several firms. After Nash had wandered about its dust corridors, his ear caught a familiar ring of steel.
In the center of a big hall two men were fighting with rapiers and oversized daggers, one in each hand. One already had a cut on his cheek.
Nash did not feel called upon to interfere, but as he cautiously skirted the hall the combatants jumped apart and lowered their weapons. The unwounded one called out to Nash in Italian.
"Excuse me," said Nash, "but I'm looking for Franchetti's office—"
"That'sa me," replied the duelist."You want to see me on beez?"
"Yeah, if you're not too busy."
The fighter addressed his opponent: "Excusa me, Giacomo, I gotta da beez. I come back and keel you aft', si?"
"Si" said the other darkly."I keel you any tima you say."
Benvenuto Franchetti Jed Nash through a small forest of statues to a desk in the corner. Nash explained his errand.
"Ah," cried Franchetti."You are justa da man! I could kees you!"
"Please don't. I'll rent this castle for a couple of weeks, if I like it."
"A month," said Franchetti, getting out a map."See, here, it is on da highesta point in New Bright', nexta da monastery. Beautiful view of da harb'—"
"Two weeks," insisted Nash."And what's this about a monastery?"
"Justa da monastery. Da owner says a month, mus' be a month." Franchetti wagged his head."He is offering it at a greata sacrifice—"
"How much?"
"Three hundred dol'."
"Give you fifty a week, for two weeks."
"Looka, my friend, is no use trying to beata me down. I am one-pricea Benvenuto. I offer you da lowesta pricea da firsta tima. I never make excepsh. For you, yes, I make one leetle excepsh. I splitta my commish. I impoverish myself. I giva you this beautiful castle for one month for two hundred seventy-fiva dol'."