Fools' Gold by Philippa Gregory Page A

that you have a great talent for understanding, that you must go throughout the world and read the signs for the end of days. Brother Peter says it is your gift and your calling. He says you are the greatest inquirer he has ever seen at work, and he has travelled and advised many Inquirers.’
    He smiled at the praise. ‘Really? Did he say that?’
    ‘Yes!’ she smiled ruefully. ‘When he was scolding me. He even told me that I must not distract you from doing God’s work. That you have a calling, a vocation. He says you are exceptional.’
    ‘Even so, I would go back to my father and mother if they were to be free and come home. Of course, I would complete my mission here, I would not leave anything undone. But if my parents were to come home I would never want to be parted from them again. I wouldn’t want to be exceptional, I would want to be an ordinary son.’
    She nodded. Of all of them, Isolde understood homesickness. On the death of her father, her brother had cheated her out of her lands and the castle that was to have been hers. ‘But you know, we can never really go back,’ she said gently to him. ‘Even if I raise an army from my godfather’s son and defeat my brother and get my lands returned to me, even if I ride into my own castle gate and call it mine once more, it will never be the same. Nothing can ever be as it was. My father would still be dead. My brother would still have betrayed me. I would still be alone in the world but for Ishraq. I would still have known grief in the loss of my father and anger in the betrayal of my brother. My heart would still be a little hardened. I would not be the same, even if the castle still stood.’
    ‘I know,’ he said. ‘You’re right. But if my parents could return home, or if you could live where you belong, then, in our own ways, in our own places, we could make new lives for ourselves. New lives in the old places. New lives where we truly belong. We could start again, from where we began.’
    She understood at once that their lives would take them in very different directions. ‘Oh Luca, if I were to win Lucretili back, I would live very far from your farm.’
    ‘And I would be such a small farmer, I could never even speak to such a grand person as the Lady of Lucretili. You would ride past my farmhouse and not even look at me. I would be a dirty farmer’s boy behind an ox and a plough and you would be on a great horse, riding by.’
    Without exchanging another word they both thought – yes, whatever is ahead of us, we can never make a new life together – and quietly, they released their clasped hands.
    ‘We can’t neglect our mission.’ Brother Peter came into the room and saw them turning away from each other. ‘That’s the main thing. That’s the only thing. I am glad that you have traced your father, Luca. But we must remember that we have work to do. We have a calling. Nothing matters more than tracing the signs of the end of the world.’
    ‘No, I won’t forget what I have come here to do,’ Luca promised. ‘But since Milord commanded us to trade and even gamble, this is a chance for me. I need to earn some gold on my own account. I will need a small fortune to ransom both my parents.’
    ‘You might get it by trading,’ Ishraq remarked, coming into the room. Isolde shot one guilty look at her. ‘If you were to buy English nobles now, everyone says they will be worth twice what you pay for them, by only next month. This is a way to make money which is like magic. You buy now, and you sell in a month’s time and someone gives you twice what you paid.’
    ‘But how?’ Isolde asked nervously, directing the question to Luca. ‘I see that it happens, I see that half of Venice is counting on it happening – every day a little profit is added. But how does it happen?’
    ‘Because everyone wants the English nobles, and they think that there are more buyers than coins to be bought,’ Luca said. ‘It is like a dream. Everyone