Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [125]
‘Then I hadn’t had a chance to think,’ Robin said. ‘Of course, it wasn’t true, about the business deals. You wanted to stop me from leaving, and you were right. I didn’t think what it would mean to Kathi and her uncle. Even to John. He was only going to go back for my sake. Now he’ll stay.’
It hadn’t worked. Robin was too clever, or too clear-sighted, or both. Nicholas said, ‘We could play it all over again, with a different ending. I pulverise John, and you rush back to Flanders, revolted. John follows, Tobie follows, Adorne follows, and you all join Gregorio in Venice and become wealthy.’
‘No,’ said Robin. He was smiling a little.
Nicholas shifted, then stopped. ‘You all join Julius in Cologne?’
‘No.’
‘Simon de St Pol, harvesting grapes in Madeira? Now there,’ said Nicholas, ‘is a future for anyone who likes to lie in the sun being hated. Don’t smile. I render jokes from an abyss of guilt. Whatever you decide, I shall feel responsible and you will resent it.’
‘I have resented kindness,’ said Robin. ‘And love. I might do it again. But not now. Not when you’re here with your arm smashed because of some daft—’ He broke off, but recovered at once. ‘So what do you suggest? I am going to stay. It makes you feel guilty. What are you going to do about that?’
‘Enable you to do whatever you really want to do,’ Nicholas said. ‘Gambling? Drinking? Women? There is a whole world of activity that is not yet beyond you, so far as I know. And if you’re interested in war, so is the King. Adorne may be invited on to the Council. You will hear a lot discussed in your father’s house that has nothing to do with trade.’ He shifted again. It didn’t help.
‘I shall present you,’ said Robin, ‘with an agenda. Meanwhile, if you would stop talking, we could make a start with the ale. The tankards are on your side and the bottles on mine, but we each have one good arm, and should manage.’
At first, they crossed swaddled limbs with some caution; the drinking was not without mishap, but contained moments of ritual elegance: the sacred ibis in slow dance with its partner. By the time the second bottle was empty, they had become more ambitious. Nicholas’s two feet brought a fiddle back to the mattress. With Nicholas wielding the bow, and Robin pressing the strings, they got some tavern choruses out of it, sung by Robin to spare Nicholas’s violated rib-cage. Then Nicholas returned from John’s travelling chest with his praying forearms full of glittering prizes: a whistle; two bits of plate-armour for cymbals; a tambour effected from a chamberpot and some lead hackbut pillocks. He stuck John’s helmet back to front on Robin’s head, with the green feathers tickling his nose, and put on the earrings John always carried in case he met somebody. He banged on things and Robin carolled. They had both forgotten how late it was, and didn’t hear Tobie at first when he opened the door, rather red in the face, and shouted at them.
Robin, always courteous, expressed his apologies and allowed himself to be conveyed, still talking, back to his room, where he advised Nicholas to go home, since Gelis would worry.
‘We sent to tell her,’ said Kathi. ‘Tobie will give him a bed for the night. Are those John’s things? His whistle?’
‘Christ. They once were,’ said John, who had also appeared. His face was still worn, but had recovered, oddly, some of its usual character. ‘I don’t want the whistle.’
‘You do,’ said Kathi, slapping it into his hands. ‘And your leg-armour. And your … How many bottles of that ale have you drunk?’
‘None,’ said John, aggrieved. ‘And it was mine.’
‘I wasn’t talking to you,’ Kathi said. ‘Nicholas, say good night to Robin.’
‘Good night to Robin,’ said Nicholas. He was standing, by now, his wrapped paws in the air. He said, ‘I could shake feet.’
‘Show me,’ said Robin. ‘You couldn’t even stand on one leg. Take your cracked ribs and go.’
He looked up and Nicholas looked down, both of them flushed; and for a moment, their eyes met and held. Then Nicholas went; and Tobie with him; and John. Kathi retired to her room, while one