To Lie with Lions (74 page)

The other woman said, ‘Also that his tale of abuse was untrue. He is untouched and whole, apart from some well-deserved bruises.’ She appeared to smile at the priest. She said, ‘Clémence will see to the lady Gelis.’

Gelis went out, with Mistress Clémence and Moriz. The sun silvered the glass on the floor, making rainbows.
Regnbogi Nikudr
. The same woman’s voice said, ‘When did you last eat?’

He tried to focus. A youngish woman, with the dark hair and bright complexion of the Irish, such as you found sometimes in Iceland, or Spain, or the Western Isles. Her eyes were like violets. He smelled her scent, and heard the sound of her faint, exact breathing.

She said, ‘I have had a tray put in your room, and a bed made up. Come. I will show you.’

She left him at the door.

When he woke, he had slept the day through, and it was evening. His head was heavy from the long sleep, but he felt better, and competent. When he appeared, no one expressed surprise. They treated him, he thought, as if he had been ill. He said, ‘Where is Mistress Clémence?’

Gelis said, ‘I thought you would want her to go back to Antwerp. She is on her way now. The boy Henry is still asleep.’

‘I see,’ Nicholas said. The priest sat, saying nothing. Diniz gave him some wine, which he didn’t want, and pressed his shoulder lightly in passing. Diniz, he remembered, knew a great deal too much. Someone had cleared up the glass.

Tilde, who had not brought in her baby, was preparing to say something. Nicholas forestalled her. ‘I’m glad Clémence is going, but of course Catherine will have been a great help. I’m sorry, Tilde. I’m sure, but for her, it would have been worse.’

‘And but for Robin,’ the priest remarked. ‘It is your affair, of course. But Robin was ignorant, too, of the dangers. Have you even heard his side of the story? Whatever it was, he has already proved his loyalty and his courage ten times over this year, and you are a fool to forget it.’

Nicholas remembered, with difficulty, having made some arbitrary decisions about the future of Robin and Pasque. He recalled very clearly some of the things Gelis had said. She had regained her tranquillity this evening, and her hair had been dressed with meticulous care. He said, ‘I think I should probably cancel everything I said this morning and start over again. In any case, I have to ask your forbearance, all of you. I can’t give any more time to the business or to my family. I have to go straight back to the Duke.’

‘War?’ Julius said. His voice lilted. Nicholas saw, clear-eyed now, the changes of the last year: the sleekness that Rome and Cologne had wrought in him. Or, of course, other things.

‘Yes,’ Nicholas said. ‘You don’t want to come?’

‘I’d cede my place,’ Moriz said. ‘I have had my fill of John and his guns for a while. Do you have to go?’

‘I have a contract,’ Nicholas said. ‘The business depends on good faith. It will be over in four months or five, and then we can arrange for the winter in Scotland.’

‘The barony?’ Julius said, with friendly insolence. ‘You can manage your business from there?’

‘I don’t expect to indefinitely,’ Nicholas said. ‘And meantime, I have you and Diniz and Moriz and Gregorio, not to mention those who do the actual work. I can get to Bruges in two weeks, and Venice in six if you make a mess of it. We’ll talk after supper.’

‘You have something else to talk of,’ said Moriz. ‘The boy.’

‘That foul-mouthed little blackguard?’ said Julius. ‘Lock him in the Steen and get rid of the key. Or he really will kill someone one day.’

‘Will that help?’ Moriz said. ‘His father might be even more dangerous.’

‘Send him to Simon,’ said Diniz.

Gelis glanced at him. The others showed no surprise at his curtness. Diniz and Simon de St Pol were related; but not even kinship could make Diniz excuse the boy Henry.

Gelis said, ‘Simon has left Madeira, it seems. If you free Henry, they might both go to Scotland.’

Julius had walked to the door, apparently hearing a step. He said, ‘If they do, I think the kindest thing you could do, Nicholas, is to find some baronial reason for hanging them. My lady?’ Opening the door, he was ushering somebody in. He said, ‘Nicholas? Have you met the Gräfin Anna von Hanseyck?’

No monumental countess appeared; merely the violet-eyed apparition of the morning, with her dusky hair bound up in voile. She smiled. She said, ‘You don’t remember. You were asleep on your feet. How do you do?’

‘Better than I did this morning, thanks to you,’ Nicholas said with extreme smoothness. He wondered how on earth Jan had made such a mistake. He wondered how on earth Julius had met her. He knew Gelis was watching.

Julius said, ‘We were talking about what to do with the monster. What do you think?’

She walked across and sat beside Gelis. Her gown of fine taffeta was cut plain as a child’s. Gelis had met her, of course, in Cologne. Gelis could have corrected Jan’s mistake, if she had heard it. The Gräfin Anna said, ‘What do I think? That we should none of us waste our time guessing. Lord Beltrees has decided already.’

‘Nicholas,’ Julius corrected her, smiling.

‘We do not know each other well enough,’ the Gräfin said; and Nicholas did not contradict her, for he disliked the free use of his name. Her French, though inflected, was well managed.

He said, ‘Yes, I have decided what to do about Henry. There is nothing you need to arrange. I shall be taking him with me tomorrow.’

His eyes were on Gelis. She said, ‘Where?’

‘To my camp,’ Nicholas said. ‘He has been taught the arrogance of a knight. Now he ought to practise the knock-about life of a soldier.’

Moriz got to his feet. ‘Are you serious? A boy of eleven, made to live with a mercenary company at war! Is this your punishment?’

‘Yes, it is,’ Nicholas said.

‘Well, I must say,’ said Julius in astonishment, ‘I’d rather like to see that. My God, he would get his deserts. From the other men, if not from the enemy. Mind you, if he survives –’

‘If he survives, he will turn into a professional thug,’ Gelis said.
‘And whether he survives or not, Simon will come for you. What are you thinking of?’

‘Jordan,’ Nicholas said. It silenced her, for the moment.

‘But also the boy?’ said the Gräfin beside her. ‘Forgive me: my child is a daughter, but spirited. She may become wilful one day, but will always follow a noble example. This boy has been unwisely reared. He may find a new inspiration.’

‘It is too late,’ Gelis said. ‘The bond is too strong. Simon depends on him. It will not make Jordan safer.’

‘Then, failing the army, Henry must be dealt with by the law,’ Nicholas said. ‘Perhaps you are right. Simon can pick a fight with the magistrates, not with me. Will you take him to the Steen, or shall I?’ He did not look at Diniz, who had been silent since his single remark.

She gave in, as he expected: the army was preferable to disgrace. They all agreed, with reluctance. It was just as well, since Nicholas had already visited Henry and, locking the door, had told him where he was going.

Alone through the day, the boy had had time to review, perhaps, what he had done; and to worry about what might now happen to him. A grown man would have done so, and a grown man might have lounged before him like this, insolence on his damaged face, concealing his fears. Nicholas saw that Henry’s supreme confidence was not assumed. Whoever had dared to touch him would soon answer for it to his family The fact that the van Borselen side of his family had rejected him seemed to count not at all. Henry had never thought much of a mother who had died when he was three.

So when Nicholas, perched by the door, twirled the key and told him what was to happen, the smile left the boy’s face. For a moment his lips opened, then he stood.

‘Oh no,’ Henry said. ‘Oh no, you stupid animal, you can’t get away with that. I demand to see a magistrate.’

‘They’re all busy,’ Nicholas said.

‘You won’t? Then I’ll shout,’ Henry said. He walked to the window and opened it. He said, ‘You really shouldn’t have locked the door before you walked in to rape me. I want to be kept safe until my father comes.’

‘I said you’d say that,’ Nicholas said. ‘Actually, they’re all waiting down in the yard hoping you’ll favour them with some technical language. Really, away from the wharfs, I’ve seldom met anyone so obsessed with the business of reproduction. One wonders what your home life is like. In any case, as you surely must know, a doctor has already reported you to be in a state of infantile purity.’

‘Some liar paid by you,’ Henry said.

‘I couldn’t afford him. Dr Andreas is, among other things, a household physician to King James of Scotland. No one,’ Nicholas said, ‘is going to tolerate any more of this conduct. You attempted to kill a young child. You should hang for it. Be thankful that today I am feeling more lenient.’

‘It’s an excuse,’ Henry said. ‘You could never touch me if my father were here. You’re a coward. You’re a traitor as well. You’re going to force me to fight against Scotland’s allies, and whatever happens to me, you’ll say it wasn’t your fault.’

‘You’d rather hang?’ Nicholas said. ‘I can arrange it.’

‘You can’t!’

‘Would you like to place a small wager?’

The boy stared at him. Nicholas gazed back, holding in his mind the sound of the ball and the club, and the screaming. He said, ‘In any case, I didn’t say I was sending you. I am going with you. You will enjoy that.’

He watched the boy’s eyes, and the gleam that came into them. The boy said, ‘I might.’

‘On the other hand, I might make sure that you don’t. That depends on you. We leave in the morning.’ He rose and paused. ‘Don’t you think it a pity that this had to happen?’

‘Yes. I should have killed him,’ said the boy.

Nicholas de Fleury rode off to Arras next morning, Julius beside him, and did not have to bind the boy Henry’s mouth, for it remained set and closed. He said goodbye to the others in public, and to Gelis in private so that his household might retain their illusions. He thought he had secured, with her, the protection of Jordan. He was removing the worst of the danger. And if Simon set foot in Bruges or in Brabant, he would know, for he had returned to his divining, understanding as he now did that it was to be his master for life. He did not kiss his wife because, this time, no one was watching.

The Gräfin Anna came to see Julius leave, and he bent and saluted her hand from the saddle. His face was flushed. She touched his knee, and then walked over to Nicholas. ‘You are well?’

‘Yes,’ he said. He smiled as he usually did.

‘Good. I didn’t wish to trouble you this time with business, but that is why I am here,’ said the Gräfin. ‘I do not like to see the brilliant guardian of my investments risking his life for no reason, so I shall express the hope, if Gelis allows, that you return safe, and return often. I admire what you are trying to do for the boy.’

‘Don’t,’ said Nicholas. ‘He won’t thank me.’ Moving off, he didn’t look round, but felt, he thought, the remarkable eyes following
Julius, or himself, or both, all the way up the street to the White Bear. At the junction he turned, but the only eyes following him were those of his wife.

Chapter 34

O
N THURSDAY THE
fourth of June, the day of the fracas at Veere, the Duke of Burgundy launched his army into the field under the black and purple legend
VENGEANCE! VENGEANCE
! By the time Nicholas de Fleury reached Arras on the ninth day of June, the Duke had advanced thirty miles to the castle he still possessed at Péronne, situated on the river Somme between the French-manned towns of Amiens and St Quentin. From that highly provocative spot he crossed the swampy frontier of the river into enemy land and marched south, burning hamlets and crops as he went. On Thursday the eleventh, when Nicholas reached him, the Duke had taken up quarters on his way to the well-garrisoned French town of Roye, and was awaiting news of a foray by his van.

His main army was still camped around him. Before reporting, Nicholas went and found Captain Astorre, who was playing dice outside his tent. Astorre said,
‘Merde
, you took your time. Master Julius!’

‘I wanted to know what you were spending all that money on,’ Julius said. ‘Now I see. Can you put up with me for a week or two?’

‘If you say so. I’m short of a notary. Well, boy! But I have to tell you that you won’t find many banquets or princesses here. Nor much fighting maybe, not in this war. And who’s this? That’s not the son of the merchant?’

‘No,’ Nicholas said. ‘That’s the pig-sticker in the poke. This is a somewhat saddle-sore Henry, come with reluctance to serve under you and me and anyone, really, who wants something tedious done for them. He may be apt to wander off, so I want him looked after by two willing men who, for a consideration, will not let themselves be bribed, stabbed, shot, seduced or led to believe that on any excuse whatever, this boy may leave camp.’

‘Annoyed you, has he? Can he ride? You couldn’t ride,’ Astorre
said. ‘You couldn’t shoot, either.’ The faces round the dice-board were grinning. Astorre could get his own back sometimes.

‘I was only pretending,’ said Nicholas agreeably. ‘You’re lucky this time, he can do both. But that’s all he can do. He thinks rough work beneath him.’

‘Oho!’ said Astorre.

‘It is beneath me,’ said Henry.

There was a chorus of good-humoured groans; the boy’s eyes flashed. They were sapphire-blue, and his hair was like corn. The face beneath it was rather less swollen than heretofore. Nicholas said, ‘And that had better be the only thing that’s beneath him, or on top. Do you hear me?’

‘He’s yours?’ said Astorre with perfect understanding.

Nicholas laughed. It took an effort to avoid the boy’s eye, but he caught the edge of Julius’s amusement. He said, ‘Yes, he’s mine.’

Later, coming back from the Duke’s room, he walked round the camp greeting everyone, and then held a company council of war in Astorre’s tent, with John le Grant and Julius and Astorre’s deputy Thomas. He deferred, as always, to Astorre and noted that, in his turn, Astorre deferred to the master gunner. He had already confirmed that his hundred lances were trimly provided for, and in excellent heart. As for the rest, Astorre was the leader, the executive. Nicholas was not here to captain a company, but to join the band of policy-makers, the councillors of the Duke.