Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [189]
Other resident foreigners were less free with their opinions. There were not so many. The short-term Italian physician; the German gunner. Men like Bishop Hepburn of Dunblane, whose unpronounceable real name was Herspolz. The biggest faction were the French: the skilled artillerymen and scholars and builders who came for some appointment or other, and often stayed; the old families, long settled in Scotland, who still sent their sons, through the generations, to serve the French Kings. The families connected with Newbattle Abbey.
By now, it was fairly clear which individuals sympathised, however discreetly, with France, and which—mainly the traders—had found the peace more to their liking. Both elements, for different reasons, found some satisfaction in Albany’s absence; both were puzzled by the actions of Nicol de Fleury. According to some, he was a hostage; according to others, he had been seen raiding with Albany, and far from trying to stop him from leaving the country, had actually plotted to join him. Now he would come back with Albany, leading a French army to take over Scotland.
The Council, echoed in an unconvinced way by the King, let it be known that Nicholas de Fleury had proved a valued mediator between his highness and his royal brother, and was acting even now in the best interests of the realm. Jamie Liddell, now released from the Castle and returned to the stewardship of Sandy’s Scottish possessions, said very little. He had long been afraid that de Fleury’s allegiance was to the King, and to a continued accommodation with England. But he had been a good friend to Sandy.
ON THE SECOND day of June, King Louis of France was at Château-Landon, Fontainebleau, from where he ordered the merchants of Compiègne to meet the merchants of Paris on business, and decreed that the merchants of Lyons should convoke with his officials in Lyons in three weeks. He moved to St Cyr, to St Denis, to Vincennes.
On the nineteenth of June, from Coulommiers, the King sent to enquire how fared the leopard that the Duke of Ferrara sent him in April. He summoned Nicholas de Fleury. ‘You know about leopards?’
‘I have hunted with them, sire.’
‘You shall hunt with this one, and give me your opinion.’
On the twenty-fourth of June, from Villenauxe, Nogent-sur-Seine, the King sent a courier to Sigismond, Duke of Austria, to notify him that, with regret, the King was stopping his pension.
‘One cannot,’ he said to Nicholas de Fleury, ‘condone, in a pensioner, the blatant support of one’s enemies. The man is a Judas, a prince aux trente deniers. On the other hand, one knows how to recompense friends. You fought at Nancy when the Bastard of Burgundy was captured? But now that he has joined us, what does he not have? Castles, towns, seigneuries, a comté. What more could one wish?’
Nicholas agreed, with some warmth. Now was not the moment to mention that the same Bastard Anthony had just married his son to Wolfaert van Borselen’s daughter, thus hedging his bets in a subtle van Borselen style that filled Nicholas with yearning.
Louis said, ‘And, of course, there is Jean, son of Louis de Gruuthuse, once so admired by this youth Maximilian that he created him knight. But brought in chains as my prisoner, he saw his errors at once, and now is a chamberlain, a knight of the Order, Prince of Struheuze and seigneur of Avelghem, Espierre and Ussé, Seneschal of Anjou, and soon to be the husband of my niece. Do I seem a generous master to you?’
‘I am dazzled, sire,’ said Nicholas. It was true. If he looked