Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [245]
Simon’s arms locked about him, a man’s powerful arms, impervious to the struggles and kicks of a boy. Simon licked his lips, in exaggerated appreciation of the ale. Simon said, ‘At least Henry would know not to do that. Heigh-ho. So clear the room, please. I want the boy, Claes and Julius to remain. Nobody else.’
Robin said, ‘I am not going. He has insulted my wife.’
Gelis drew in her breath. Simon de St Pol said, ‘As you please. I’m only one man. I’ll kill the boy first, and then as many of you as I can. You decide.’
Robin’s eyes turned to Nicholas. The same uncertainty held them all silent. Nicholas answered them all, but looked only at Robin. ‘It’s best if you go. Robin, no one believes that for a moment. It was one of Simpson’s lies. Will you leave your honour in my hands? If you please?’
Tobie stiffened. Kathi said, ‘Yes. We go.’ Gelis had already begun to move to the door. For a single moment, her gaze had met that of Nicholas, but neither spoke. Robin turned his head aside and Clémence, taking hold of his chair, began to push. Simon spoke, and the door to the next house was locked. The shutters were already closed. Looking back as she left the room, Kathi saw a sudden movement close to the door, as if the boy had tried to grasp Simon’s sword. As she watched, Simon struck the lad to the ground and, kneeling, unbuckled his belt and began to shackle him with it. Julius exclaimed, and then subsided at the look Nicholas threw him. When the door closed, and then locked, she was left with a picture of Nicholas and Julius standing together, facing Simon, at whose feet the boy lay. Julius was swaying. Like Nicholas, he carried no arms. They were at Simon’s mercy. That is, any axeman could chop down the doors. But before they got very far, Nicholas’s son at the very least could be dead.
She wondered if Simon was really prepared to be killed if that happened; or if he thought that none of these men would dare. She knew that if Nicholas had not allowed Jodi to run, Simon de St Pol would be dead, not to mention the inebriated Julius. She wondered by what law of retribution Nicholas was being brought, over and over, to weigh one life, one responsibility against another. She wished she were a man.
INSIDE THE DOOR, Simon de St Pol stood with the boy at his feet, his hair an aureole of gold, and his sword resting point-down next the boy’s face, like that of a crusader in effigy. The candles burned, and the thickened air carried the odours of the uneaten food on the trestles and the ale in the litter of mugs.
Without excitement, Nicholas spoke. ‘All right. That’s enough.
‘Julius, sit down. St Pol, I am not as unarmed as I appear, and if you touch that boy again, I shall kill you. Now say what you want to say, and let’s get it over. Is it about Julius’s step-daughter?’
He sounded different. He sounded like Whitelaw, or Avandale, or Nowie Sinclair. Julius blinked. Jodi’s eyes became very bright. Simon de St Pol said, ‘I think you should speak when you are spoken to. I will ask the questions.’
‘Then ask them quickly,’ Nicholas said. ‘Wodman will have got to your father by now.’
Simon went red. He lifted the sword.
‘And if you do anything, you and he will be sent back to Portugal. At the very least,’ Nicholas said.
Julius, although bleary, had heard Nicholas mention his step-daughter. He gazed at him. ‘Bonne? Do you know about Bonne? He was trying to make out that she’s here.’
‘It’s a long story. She arrived at Kilmirren House while you and I were away. Adorne heard about it, and had her taken to Haddington Priory. I didn’t know about any of this until just now. St Pol thinks I did.’ He wasn’t really speaking to Julius.
‘I know you did,’ said Simon de St Pol. ‘Or why force her away from my house? It wasn’t her idea to go. She says you pay for her clothes and her keep. She doesn’t know why, but one may speculate. Is she to be your