Caprice and Rondo - Dorothy Dunnett [37]
The singing drew her mind from her thoughts, being discordant and cheerful and coarse. Robin began to join in. The water lapped the shore and suckled the rafts. Something splashed. A pair of children, scuffling with a stick, hit a ball into the dunes and she handed it back, rubbing sand from her eyes.
Tzukanion. A game played by horsemen, and children. A dangerous, elegant game played on a long, sandy shore by two riders in magnificent doublets, one in crimson velvet, the other in pleated black silk. The athlete, the acrobat: Julius the lawyer, and Nicholas de Fleury, the Chevalier Highmount. And then, the moon high over the estuary, they had made music: they had exchanged the wonder of fantasy for a wonder of a different kind; and Nicholas had been led by a master through the door he had now shut and locked. He carries keys in his head.
The same melodious voice spoke, here and now. ‘Poor eager Willie and his Tenebrae service. Do you remember our first meeting, lady of Berecrofts? How old were you then, Robin? Five?’
‘It was six years ago,’ Robin said.
Nicholas laughed. Then he said, ‘I’ve brought Herod-Baba to sit with you. Then Paúel wants to take Kathi off and seduce her. The raft is over there, at the end. I’ll show her the way.’
‘I’ll take her,’ said Robin. He rose, and so did she.
Kathi looked at him, and then up at Colà. She said, ‘What does Paúel want?’ Once, cold sheepskin pressing her cheek. Once, his hands in friendship, holding her safe.
He said, ‘To winkle out of you the reason I’m here. To persuade you to leave me alone before something happens.’
‘To me?’ Kathi said.
‘It’s not impossible,’ said the new Nicholas. ‘But Paúeli generally prefers to take out his annoyance on men. So how is your uncle?’
‘He didn’t want us here either,’ Robin said. ‘As I’ve said, the whole thing was my idea. So let me tell him. We know you mustn’t go back.’
‘That’s a challenging statement,’ Nicholas said.
Kathi said, ‘Don’t start again. Robin, stay. Let’s get this over.’ And walked away from the firelight with Colà.
The noise receded. The river ran black and broad on her left, the bed of raft-lanterns flickering. On her right, the wind rustled the grasses and at the foot of the castle, loud as ducks, the frogs had begun their night’s inflatable choir. ‘Tenebrae,’ Nicholas said.
She said, ‘Is there nothing left that is bearable?’
‘Debate it with Paúeli,’ he said. ‘While having in mind the handy phrase I just used. Nie pozwalam. Or a quick, simple Nie, if you’re pressed.’
He sounded not just indifferent, but mocking. She rounded on him. He came, slightly surprised, to a halt. She said, ‘And is there nothing at all, Nicholas, that you want to ask me? Nothing that matters about anyone else? Shall I give you a bulletin? Do you know that your wife has now taken your place? When you vacated the Bank, Gelis offered to help finance Gregorio in Venice, so that he could run the house as her partner. In Bruges, Diniz has done much the same. As well as managing the branch, he has bought it. It means that two parts of the Bank can survive.’
She was blocking his way. She could see him stir, but not his expression. He said, ‘You see, you did want something from me. A tear, a shiver, a flush, a shade of distress, of remorse? Something to music, perhaps?’
She was tempted, but didn’t pursue it. She said, ‘A single question would have been a good sign.’
‘About Gelis?’ he said, walking round her. ‘But, aspettate e odiate, Gelis always survives, as you’ve shown. A really good business brain. I should know, since I taught her.’
He had resumed walking on, and she followed. She said, ‘She could have stayed with your rivals. She’s left them.’
‘All of them?’ Nicholas said. ‘Martin? Simon? Poor darling David? Perhaps I should introduce David to Buonaccorsi