Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [28]
Albany said, ‘I expect you know something of what is happening in Burgundy. The King ought to hear, and as soon as possible. My goods can wait.’
‘I don’t have a horse,’ Nicholas said. ‘If my lord will allow a moment to—’
‘Take John’s,’ Albany said. ‘He owes me for the pepper.’ He glanced at Liddell, who quietly moved off to manage matters. Albany paused, eyeing Nicholas, his manner still stiff. ‘You are bruised? It was a violent journey?’
‘No,’ Nicholas said. ‘That is, yes. But now it is over.’
Before he left, he told Wodman where and with whom he was going. He had changed his outer dress quickly, and unearthed his unicorn collar. He had nothing to fear this time from thieves. Wodman said, ‘Great God, man, I couldn’t believe it. It’s started already?’
‘Why not?’ Nicholas said. ‘You lay a plan, then you follow it.’ Ever since Albany appeared, he had been cheered by Wodman’s expression.
‘Oh, surely, surely,’ said Wodman, wiping the bewilderment from his face. ‘Like you laid a plan to get us both half murdered yesterday. They made you sing to the oysters, all right. And what about Mar? That wasn’t your plan.’
‘No. That was a stroke of luck,’ Nicholas said.
IT WAS REPORTED in Flanders, that February, that the Duke of Burgundy had received a solemn church burial in Nancy, close to the ditch where he fell, the ceremony being attended by his recent opponent, the young Duke of Lorraine, respectfully sporting a waist-length beard of gold thread. In the same month, the King of France’s armies occupied Picardy, and began to march into Artois.
There was no word of the prisoners of Nancy, and Robin of Berecrofts had yet to come home to his wife.
Awaiting him, Katelijne Sersanders, aged twenty-three, had moved with her children into the Hôtel Jerusalem, the great mansion of that elegant man, her widowed uncle, Anselm Adorne, whose own surviving sons and daughters were now grown, and elsewhere.
She did not delude herself that he wished his household better run, or to be diverted by the prattle of children. No one could have maintained a great house better than Margriet, who had borne him sixteen infants and, dying, left a régime that ran sweetly still, five years later. Accordingly, lodged out of sight with Mistress Cristen, her nurse, and her family, Kathi devised and maintained a life that was busy, but separate from his. But when France stood to arms, and the fires of dissent and revolt began to flicker through the leaderless Burgundian states, she was glad to be here for her uncle.
Those were the weeks when the little Duchess was held fast in Ghent and, desperate to raise a fresh army, made lavish undertakings to her towns, while swaying in private between the policies of her late father’s wife and high officers. One of the latter was Louis de Gruuthuse of Bruges. Another was his trusted Chancellor and hers, William Hugonet. In the initial, cautious approaches to France the little Duchess employed the brains and experience of both, as well as those of Wolfaert van Borselen of Veere, who was the brother of Gruuthuse’s wife.
These were all friends of Anselm Adorne, and the problems of Bruges were both his and theirs. Shuttling between Bruges and Ghent; returning angered and drained by the narrow-mindedness, the greed, the confusion, Adorne found in Kathi the most patient of listeners, and one who had admired him from childhood for his intelligence, and his looks, and his integrity.
She was glad to be there. And as a further consideration, she was where the first news from Nancy would come.
She was not without support or distraction. The children loved Clémence, who came often, and had been nurse to Jodi de Fleury before marrying Master Tobias, now gone to help ransom back Robin. So, while she spent time with the children, Clémence was ready to talk also of Robin, and Tobie, and Julius, whom