Caprice and Rondo - Dorothy Dunnett [60]
Later, having heard most of the story, he said, ‘You approve of Anna. I’m glad. Do you think she might talk to Gelis some time? Persuade Gelis to come here, and bring Jodi?’
Kathi thought of the burned poem, of which she’d said nothing. In the past, Robin had undergone more for Jodi’s sake than she had. Kathi said, ‘I suppose Gelis might agree to come, one day. Or the boy, with his nurse, or Dr Tobie. But not now. It would be the worst possible time for it now, when Nicholas has just publicly repudiated them. He is not fit for his son, not at present.’
‘So what can we do?’ Robin said. Beneath the reasonable tone, there was anguish.
‘Nothing,’ Kathi said. ‘Nothing directly. Now, we leave it to Anna.’
TO THIS PLAN, Nicholas de Fleury had no objection. Since he had access to the front as well as the back windows of Friczo Straube’s house, he was able to discern what might have escaped Julius: that Kathi and Anna had met. He thought he might mention it to Julius, in the interests of friendship.
Their strenuous attention, at the time, was being given to the current Zielone Światki or Green Festival, a happy blend of church and pagan spring ritual which had begun with flower-gathering in the country and would end in bucolic riot the day after Pentecost Sunday. As esteemed guests of the nobility, Julius and his former padrone performed their flower-gathering at one remove, alighting at various handsome dwory containing various handsome women who took part in the feasting and in the languid dances that followed, plaiting circles on the late evening turf while servants passed by with barrows of greenery. Some of the servants were slaves, black or Tartar. They looked well dressed and fed, and were presumably grateful for their good luck.
Anna was not present, nor was the Mission, which was being entertained by the Town. The Court remained over the river. The itinerary of the Patriarch was not known, although he had sent an unexpected message to Nicholas, in the latter’s well-known role as a master mechanic: he was wanted to fix up a dove in the Marienkirche. It didn’t seem much. And Nicholas, who could recognise the inevitable, whether emanating from the Patriarch or the Third Person of the Trinity, had promised to do it.
But that was for tomorrow. Now, he sat on a rug made from wolf fur and viewed his temporary host’s rolling domain, and silk-clad guests disposing themselves upon it. A dwarf dressed in velvet was turning somersaults. ‘That reminds me,’ Nicholas said. ‘What did Kathi think about all your schemes? I didn’t know you liked lampreys?’
‘Neun Augen,’ said Julius complacently, stirring the dish at his side with a finger. ‘Nine eyes. German. I’m getting to like German food. Fish in white vinegar. Puddings. What do you mean? I haven’t seen Kathi. We agreed to leave her and her uncle alone.’
‘Oh,’ Nicholas said. ‘Yes, of course you did. So what else do you recommend beside lampreys?’
Julius’s oblique eyes had become slits of suspicion. ‘Wait a moment. Has Kathi been spinning some tale?’
The late sun slanted over the meadow, and sleek limbs gleamed, and jewels burst into radiance. Nicholas had pushed his hat back from his subversive brown hair and large, shining eyes. He said, ‘It’s all right. You know what women are. I saw Anna go into the house when Adorne was away. I expect they talked about puddings.’
‘They probably talked about you,’ said Julius sharply. ‘Not that Anna could say very much, since you haven’t honoured us with your decision. I can’t wait about the whole summer.’
‘I didn’t ask you to,’ Nicholas said. ‘Although I was grateful for the introductions. Why don’t you go home and I’ll send you a letter? I expect to decide fairly soon. I’ll probably have it decided for me tomorrow. You don’t want to come and help me sheet up the Holy Ghost for Father Ludovico?’
They went home early that night, and Julius didn’t join him for their evening session as usual. But next day, when he went off to the Marienkirche, Julius went with him.
OF THE EIGHT CHURCHES in the double city of Thorn, the Franciscans