Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [166]
At this moment, it mattered to none of them. What mattered now was what the brilliant light was meant to expose: that every door of every building stood open, and every shutter as well. That there were no horses left in the stables or dogs in the kennels or birds in the mews. That there were no men to be seen, for the place was deserted.
The light from the great double doors spilled down the steps, augmented by the bright lantern above them. The yard before them showed the trampling of many boots, and the stable-yard was deep in freshly churned mud. The exodus had just taken place.
Wodman said, ‘You thought he would wait for you.’
‘Maybe he has.’ It was Henry, arrived glittering where there was no point in concealment. ‘Maybe it’s an invitation. So what do you think, Uncle?’
Nicholas didn’t answer. Tobie said, ‘I don’t think I can get up. I certainly don’t think I can get on that horse and follow them. Do you think they know that?’
‘I don’t know. Stay here. I’ll go down.’ Nicholas had got to his feet and stretched a hand for the reins. Henry kept them.
Henry said, ‘I rather think that may be what he’s hoping for. Why don’t I go first and see? Since I do have some protection?’
There was a pause. ‘All right,’ Nicholas said. ‘You go first, and I’ll walk behind you. The others can wait. If they have artillery, you might as well all go away.’
‘They don’t,’ Henry said. He should know. Kilmirren was not far away.
Wodman said, ‘Don’t be a fool. We’ll all come.’
Again, Nicholas didn’t argue. She supposed that, like them all, he was thinking of what he might be going to find. If the nature of the challenge had altered, David would no longer need Robin.
They mounted, and achieved the ridge and rode down to the trampled forecourt, and across to the steps, where there were tethering-rings. Wodman’s man took the horses. Nicholas said, ‘Let’s not walk through the front door to begin with. Let’s start somewhere else.’
‘You’ve done this before,’ Andro said.
It was Andro he kept at his side during that swift and vigilant tour, with Henry strolling behind in supercilious mode, and Tobie and Gelis to the rear. Beginning with the outlying quarters, Nicholas walked through each room, finding no one, and leaving the keep to the last. Then he entered that, from the cellars, and began to make his way up. The rest followed.
They had seen nothing: no vibrating crossbows, no threatening weights. No douches, no iron birds shrilling, no traps that opened, where mattresses should have been laid. This time, Gelis was forbidden to lead, and Tobie held her arm as they walked. There had been kegs in the cellar, labelled and sealed and laid beside other crates, all clearly merchandise. Some of them contained artillery powder, but there was no actual artillery, only a store for hand-weapons, which was empty.
Nothing else had been removed. Inside, the castle was as Davie Simpson had furnished it, which was as a palace owned by a prince. Nicholas, squandering money, had packed this building with expensive objects, now gone, and Bel had done the same, in her dogged efforts to drain his resources. The furnishings purchased by this owner—the sumptuous inlaid patterned beds, the Flemish paintings, the Italian sculptures, the painted coffers, the Turkey rugs and the knotted pile carpets from Naples, the arras, the Florentine glazed terracotta, the velvet pillows and the tooled leather cushions, the tall, carved chairs and the plaster-work, the painted glass, the carved, gilded cupboards, the walnut firescreens and the embroidered Venetian hangings were the chefs-d’oeuvres of craftsmen from all over the world, commissioned, chosen, assembled by a master, in deliberate contrast to the carcass that housed it. It appeared priceless. Gelis could guess what it cost. She knew where the gold came from.
Of course, Nicholas also would know. He showed no awareness of it. Only, as the ascent led towards the more private chambers of