Caprice and Rondo - Dorothy Dunnett [275]
‘I, jealous?’ said the Greek, and his beard moved in a small, startled smile while a tear, dislodged, fell on his cheek. ‘Would Nerio tell me everything, as he does, if I were? When Nerio watched you bedding Violante his mother, and later described all he had seen, I was not jealous, and yet I had cause. Not because the boy is my catamite, but because I got him on Violante myself. Nerio is my son.’
Of course. Of course. Of course.
‘She did not say. I didn’t know,’ Nicholas said. He gave a sudden wide smile, impelled by an emotion he did not understand, and said, ‘So your line, also, is established. It seems right.’ To himself, he wondered, a little breathless, if Caterino Zeno knew the identity of his wife’s lover; then realised that, of course, he had done. Zeno’s marriage was one of convenience.
Even wet, the darkened eyes kept all their mockery. ‘Fortunately,’ said the Greek, ‘Nerio has a charm which appeals to both sexes, and which will serve him well, even in age. Yes, my line, too, is established. I may leave when I choose.’
‘And your master will commend you?’ Nicholas said.
‘You think I have a master?’ the Greek said. ‘Let us say rather that I prefer order in life, and do not lose time where I see a chance to establish it.’
‘One who sees the beauty in roads and bridges and buildings,’ Nicholas said.
‘One who conceives the structure that will endow others with freedom, yes: that is true. But I am also human,’ said Nicholai de’ Acciajuoli. ‘I lost my leg at Constantinople, for which I blame the Knights of St John. I like to think that one day, someone will even the score. Meanwhile, all that I have with me is yours, to take you safely home, except only my leg. I should like you to take that to Nerio.’
‘I shall try,’ Nicholas said.
‘You will succeed,’ said the Greek. ‘It may better encourage you to know that it is filled from hip to toe with gold coins. If my other resources prove inadequate, I give you leave to dip into a knee joint. Only do not give the remainder to Violante. If she wishes gold, she must earn it from Zeno.’ He waited and said, smiling still, ‘You are going to Bruges?’
‘I have this matter to deal with,’ Nicholas said. ‘I shall not, I suspect, be allowed to stay long.’
‘My dear Niccolò,’ the dying man said. ‘Provided you live, it is your choice, not theirs. You are not, I hope, an apprentice to anyone, now.’
A little after that, he asked for the second half of the potion, and Nicholas brought it, and lifted his shoulders to allow him to drink. He tried to say, once again, what he felt, but the Greek shook his head.
‘It was time. This is one death you do not have on your conscience.’ He paused, patently searching for the fitting benediction which, eventually, he found. ‘Violante spoke highly of you, in general, as a lover. She always held you had the advantage of Zeno.’
‘But not of you,’ Nicholas said. His voice conveyed what he felt: unwilling admiration mixed with regret.
‘There, of course,’ said the Greek, ‘there could be no comparison.’ He drank, and was smiling still as his lids fell.
Part IV
REPRISE
Chapter 38
AGHOST TRAVELS fast. A ghost with three legs travels faster.
Throughout the civilised world known to Europe, the autumn stasis set in, troubled only by small local disturbances, for the most part irritable and inconclusive: it promised to be a hard winter, and fighting men preferred to spend such months at home.
The ghost flitted, and those who inhabited its former homes in Venice, Flanders and Scotland waited, as they had done for three years, in fretful suspense, not knowing what to hope for, or what to fear. Then autumn began to move into winter, and the catchment area, the network, the web awaiting Nicholas de Fleury stirred into life, animated by a signal from Scotland.
Since the attempt upon Jodi in Edinburgh, his wee Aunty Bel had spent a great deal of time in the city, divided between her usual house and the office and home of the Berecrofts family. There, she and Archie of Berecrofts shared news from the Low Countries