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By Root 2999 0

friends and their reports with unfailing courtesy, and a wry sense of humour. Since his wife died, he had made a fresh will, to replace the one prepared years ago, before his trip to the Holy Land. He would not, now, be leaving his best sapphire to the Bishop of St Andrews, because Bishop Kennedy was dead, and his nephew Archbishop Graham had been arraigned before the law, as he himself was. And it was unlikely, now, that twenty-four porters of the weigh-houses would wear new robes and carry new torches to his lying-in-state, amid hangings of black and white and grey linen, or that the bells of his three churches would be permitted to ring, to remind Bruges that he had died. Waiting now, a little more spare, a little more pallid than he had been, Adorne passed his time well enough with his fellow magistrates, but was glad, as they were, of any diversion. Reports on the altering political climate were important to him, for they affected his chances of life. But dispatches from Scotland were what he was waiting for.

Gelis couldn’t tell, yet, whether he had broken the news about Phemie to his existing family. Since he could not marry as yet, perhaps he would wait. He wanted to know, always, what news she had of Nicholas, and she told him whatever she heard. Then, in the middle of May, there came word of Robin’s safe home-coming in a letter from Kathi and with it, at last, a joyous response to his letter from Phemie herself. That afternoon, Gelis returned to the Steen with something from his own house: the lute upon which he had so often made music with the Scottish friend of his heart. He took it from her and then, leaning forward, kissed her cheek. ‘Nicholas is fortunate,’ said Anselm Adorne. ‘And I am fortunate, to have known you both.’

He was a brave man with few delusions, who knew that, hard as they might work, his life hung on a thread.

Early that month, the Estates-General had accepted the Imperial marriage as valid, and were even now waiting for the Archduke Maximilian to set out from Vienna. The signs were that the country was becoming reconciled to ‘the rude German’ against whom King Louis had warned. If so, they would wish to put their house in order before he arrived. They would wish no sign of dissension in Bruges.

The little Duchess made sure there would be none. A letter of remission was posted in June, absolving the Brugeois from alle mesdaden, offensien, mesgripen ende abusen, which satisfactorily excused the summary execution of the sentence on former burgomaster Barbesaen, at last.

Adorne’s family rushed to the Steen. Dr Andreas presented himself at the Hof Charetty-Niccolò. ‘They are to hold a final Tribunal. I have done all I can. So have you. Now all we can do is pray.’

It was Gelis who stood before him and spoke. ‘We don’t need to pray. You can tell the future. You know what is going to happen.’ None of the others said anything. John le Grant for once was in the room, as well as Diniz and his family.

Dr Andreas shook his head, with its bright eyes and its fresh, big-featured face which seemed compatible with human appetites rather than spiritual ones. ‘I draw up birth charts. Sometimes they hint at what is to come. But not everyone wants to know his own fate. My lord of Cortachy asked me to refrain from compiling his horoscope. So did your husband.’

‘Nicholas? But he can tell the future,’ said Gelis.

‘Can he?’ said the doctor. ‘It would surprise me. He can divine, as many people can, what is lost, or under the earth. He may be able to communicate, in a simple way, with those to whom he is close. But if he has some window into the future, I should like to know of it.’ He paused. ‘I have reassured you. It is not certain, then, what he sees? Or he sees unwanted splinters, of no meaning?’

‘That,’ said Gelis. ‘It disturbed him. So did the pendulum. But perhaps both have stopped.’

‘One may stop using a pendulum,’ Andreas said. ‘He has probably made that decision: you are right. But the other is not within his control. He is only the recipient.’

She stared at him. ‘Of what? Someone else has chosen