Caprice and Rondo - Dorothy Dunnett [63]
For those moments, at least, his mind cleared. He heard the screams. He saw that Julius was safe, caught and lodged just below him. He saw the tiles of the floor rushing towards him and thought of a chute, and a cry, and something he would never now say. But all that was already lost to him, in any case. Then he struck and found, swaying, swaying, lurching and swaying, that he was in a net.
Chapter 9
SHAKEN, SORE but alive, Nicholas de Fleury missed both the Pentecost Mass and the revels that followed on Monday, although Julius conveyed himself with caution to both, as a good merchant should. The dove, according to Anna, had turned in an impeccable performance.
It was the first sensible conversation they had held since she had received him from the awed hands of the Polish Franciscans, who perceived the net as a donation by Bóg, rather than a consequence of the Patriarch’s distrust of poor timber. Of the night that followed, Nicholas remembered little but a sequence of extraordinarily sensual dreams, from which he woke in some discomfort to find the house empty but for his servant, and the square packed with jewelled mitres, cloth of gold and white satin, with golden crosses and high swaying canopies and the hats and silken shoulders of the nobility, all assembling for the procession to church. Behind them somewhere, he supposed, would be Julius and Anna, with Straube and his household. Somewhere else, not too far from the royal party, wherever it was, would be Anselm Adorne, his niece and his nephew. And the Patriarch, of course.
The vestibule hall, two storeys high, did not appeal to him, so he installed himself instead at the window of one of the small hanging rooms at the front, where there was a seat and, he found, a recess offering a small keg of ale and some wine. He sent Jelita for a cup, then dismissed him. By then the chanting had begun, and the incense rolling inwards was making him queasy. He shut the window and, his gaze on the square, poured his wine and began to think through what had just happened. After a while, he made out the figure of Anna. Much later, he saw Kathi and Robin. They both looked happy, on their way to a Christian blessing. Some sects incinerated children as soon as they were born, and made Communion-bread from the ashes. And then, presumably, ate it.
A long while after that, someone touched his shoulder and he found that it was Anna herself, smiling, still in her cloak. He saw it was raining again. He said, ‘I was asleep.’ The flask was empty.
‘So I saw,’ she said. ‘Come back to your room. The dove did very well, and so did Julius.’
In his room, he pulled himself up on his bed while she sat on the edge of it, studying him. She said, ‘Don’t worry. I’m not going to preach. I know this wasn’t a drunken Benecke prank, but men are going to wonder, in time, if that is all you can do. Maybe it is. But I don’t want Julius to take that path.’ She paused. ‘May I suggest something? I went to see Katelijne of Berecrofts, and I think that you should do the same. Julius also agrees, now he understands. Her uncle, of course, shouldn’t know, but I am sure that she would be willing to meet you, if you wanted. You do like her?’
The damp had brought a single strand of black hair to her shoulders, and her eyes were the colour of hyacinths. He said, ‘Did you look after me last night?’
Her smile deepened. ‘Jelita was there most of the time. Julius didn’t mind. You did nothing to be ashamed of.’
‘What a pity,’ he said.
Her smile remained: amused, mild, understanding. And I think that you will dig your own grave if you are left alone very much longer. Anna, Anna, Anna: how did you know?
He said, ‘I think a great deal of Kathi. I would