Caprice and Rondo - Dorothy Dunnett [35]
He spoke at once, in hilarious German. ‘My dears! Shall I go out and come in again when you’re naked?’ Paúel Benecke, also bearded, ducked past him and pranced towards Kathi.
‘… the wrong room?’ Gerta’s voice could be heard saying, without much conviction.
‘Oh no, the right room,’ the new Nicholas replied in a clear voice. ‘But nothing was happening. They wouldn’t perform? Or couldn’t perform? Or didn’t want to get wet? How are you, Mistress Berecrofts? And the young Master?’ He had settled propped by the door, in the manner less of a faun than a satyr.
‘They’re thirsty,’ said Benecke. ‘Gerta, wine for us all. Perhaps Colà would like you and Elzbiete to join us?’
‘Another time,’ the new Colà said. ‘Ah, the Herod-Baba Elzbiete. Nightingales are not born from owls. She brought our devoted young couple from Danzig?’
‘We asked her to bring us,’ said Robin. He was standing.
‘And are we not glad!’ Benecke said. ‘My little Kathi!’ He bent and kissed her on the mouth, his sinewy hands on her shoulders. He smelt unwashed and looked raffish, as the new Nicholas did, but thin and tough as she remembered. She sustained it calmly, although Robin moved a shade nearer. Colà did not move at all. After all her difficulty, in the past, in accustoming herself to his first name, she had begun almost at once to see that this was a man also called Colà. He seemed to be studying Robin.
Robin spoke to him. ‘We were hoping to talk to you alone.’
‘Were you?’ Colà-Nicholas said. He stepped aside, making way for a tray to come in, borne by the same grinning woman as before. She set down tankards and wine, and departed. Nicholas returned to the door, but not to close it. ‘You won’t get rid of Paúeli now. Enjoy it. Good night.’
Paúel Benecke turned, jug in hand. ‘And where are you going?’
‘Downstairs. I came to this place to eat.’
Paúel put the jug down. Kathi said, ‘Why don’t we all go downstairs and eat?’ She no longer felt tired. She felt feverish.
Robin said, ‘Would you mind that?’ to the new Nicholas. He paused and then added, ‘We don’t want anything from you.’
‘Of course you do. You are a messenger of divine admonition,’ Colà-Nicholas said. ‘And I am the Judas of the Paschal, with my light about to be snuffed in a sack. Nie pozwalam, my friends.’
‘I wish to rule, and I will not let anyone pick my nose?’ Kathi quoted.
He stopped, at least. He said, ‘People try, on occasion. So this is merely a courtesy call? You are on your way to Tabriz, to persuade Uzum Hasan to fight his fellow Muslims in Christ’s cause?’
‘I thought we were on our way to eat,’ Kathi said.
He lifted an impatient shoulder and turned, and she followed him down to the common room, with Robin and the pirate behind her. The room was warm and stinking and full of bibulous men, some of whom Benecke and Colà-Nicholas knew. They had spent the winter, after all, roving the countryside. Elzbiete had disappeared. Gerta set a board before them, and food, which Kathi found suddenly welcome. Fright had given her an appetite. Robin said, ‘So tell us about bear-hunts.’
All the information about bear-hunts was in fact imparted by Paúel Benecke, with ample illustrations from recent misadventures. He followed with other stories, none of them flattering to his companion, and frequently mentioning women. Colà-Nicholas occasionally commented, and occasionally turned to contribute to quite different conversations taking place within earshot elsewhere. Robin kept his head, and sustained some part of the talk in his quiet way, but Kathi soon dropped out in order to watch, and to agonise, and to think. After a while Nicholas noticed it.
‘Regretting you came?’
Robin said, ‘She didn’t want to come. It was my idea.’
‘But you don’t want anything. So why? Why is he here, Paúel?’
‘He was anxious,’ Benecke suggested. ‘He thought I might have cut your throat, or you might cut your own. He was afraid you might murder Adorne, or upset his embassy —’
‘You don’t say!’ the new Nicholas said. ‘Whatever would make him think that?’
‘— or start another business which