"How much will this cost—us—Sordello?" said Simon, his improved mood making him feel a bit like joking.
A quick glance from Sordello's bloodshot eyes showed he understood that Simon understood. "Thirty florins, Your Signory. Oh, and I promised him an additional forty-five florins when we get to Aigues-Mortes. That little extra after the passage helps guarantee that you get where you want to go."
Thierry whistled. "Seventy-five florins! We could buy five more horses for that."
Sordello shrugged. "But more horses would not get you as far and as fast as that ship will. And it is no more than Count Simon would have had to pay if he had done the bargaining himself."
"Less," Simon admitted. In his desperation he had actually been thinking of offering Guibert a flat hundred florins.
Wait! What is happening here? he asked himself suddenly. When he had first seen Sordello this morning, he had fully intended to turn him away here in Livorno. Now he was paying his passage to France. Again he was being taken advantage of.
He leaned forward suddenly, planting his folded arms on the table.
"But why must I take you, Sordello, eh? What further use are you to me? Can I not save some florins if I leave you on the dock here?"
Sordello looked pained, brushing the curly gray hair back from his forehead. "What I have just accomplished shows Your Signory how useful I can be."
"Thus far you have nearly ruined my mission by attempting to murder an Armenian prince—"