Caprice and Rondo - Dorothy Dunnett [287]
‘How will that help?’ Kathi said. But Nicholas did not intervene, and her uncle had already rung for a servant.
While they waited, Adorne addressed his captive, his manner collected. ‘I suppose, although you are neither free nor condemned, you are still permitted to sit. Or do you propose to stand there until nightfall?’
‘Whatever pleases you,’ Nicholas said. But he walked and sat down in the seat at one end of Adorne’s desk, not far from Kathi. Then Wodman came in.
He was an ugly man, thick-necked, with black hair and coarse features. The powerful frame, however, was that of a professional archer, and the eyes which assessed the situation were astute. He said, ‘Mistress. My lord?’ But his gaze had already clashed with that of Nicholas.
Adorne waved him to a seat. ‘You know de Fleury. He is here because of the threat from David de Salmeton. Tell us what you expect.’
‘Something spiteful,’ Wodman said. He sat with military precision, and continued to quiz, in silence, the travel-stained, impervious figure of Nicholas de Fleury.
‘So you know de Salmeton well?’ Kathi asked.
Wodman glanced at his predecessor. ‘Tell her,’ Adorne said. ‘She will not believe me.’
‘And M. de Fleury?’ said Wodman.
‘Tell him all you told me.’
‘Perhaps I can guess,’ Nicholas said. His voice was even. ‘You do know de Salmeton well, because at one time you were a Scottish Archer in France. Then you committed a murder, and left.’
‘David was an Archer at the same time,’ Wodman said. ‘I killed someone, and he and I left together. Twelve years ago, it all happened. David joined the merchant company of the Vatachino. I joined Jordan de Ribérac in his business. He always looked after good men of the Guard.’
‘I’m sure he did,’ Nicholas said. He spoke reflectively. Some of what Wodman said could be true, Kathi perceived. Before he became fat, or acquired a title, Jordan de St Pol had been a fine soldier, commanding a company of the Scottish Guard for the present King’s father in France. Wodman had also served in the Guard. But —
Kathi said, ‘But all the Scottish Archers were Scots.’
Her uncle smiled. He said, ‘Andro is from Aberdeen. His brother is Abbot of Jedburgh.’
‘And David de Salmeton is from Aberdeen also,’ Wodman said. ‘Salmeton is the French version of Simpson. David Simpson is his real name.’
Kathi stared at Nicholas, who had made a sound close to one of amusement. The fragrant, gazelle-eyed exotic of Cyprus and Cairo was an Aberdonian; a man like John le Grant. She could imagine John on receiving the news. Davie Simpson! The loon, the wee cunt! She said, quickly and clearly, ‘Gelis didn’t know that.’
‘I know,’ Nicholas said. During the passionate warfare between them, Gelis had secretly worked for the Vatachino, her husband’s fiercest rival in business. She had disliked, and now loathed David de Salmeton, but had known nothing of his origins, Kathi could swear.
Nicholas was speaking again, this time to Wodman. ‘But telling us about David de Salmeton is not quite enough, perhaps, to encourage us to fall into your arms? Have you no other secrets?’
Adorne smiled. Kathi, observing it, was overcome with something closer to despair than apprehension. She thought of Clémence, tamer of wilful children. But she was her uncle’s niece, not his nurse, and whatever was coming, she could not protect Nicholas from it.
Wodman said, ‘What about the biggest trade secret of all? You always wanted to know who your competitor was. You always wondered who owned the Vatachino.’
Nicholas sat very still. He had seen Adorne’s smile. Now he could analyse it. Several times in the past Adorne had invested with the Vatachino: in Iceland, in Africa. Then they had been the greatest opponents of the Banco di Niccolò, aiming at the same markets, cheating their way to success. Kathi’s uncle, unaware of their methods, had not been distressed on the occasions when the Vatachino had won. Then Gelis had joined them. Everything about the Vatachino was anathema to Nicholas de Fleury.
Wodman said, ‘It isn’t Anselm, in spite of that smile. The man was