Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [389]
She registered all of that, but her heart and soul were with Nicholas, who had stretched out his arm and taken his son to sit beside him.
THE ULTIMATE SUPPER (as her uncle wryly named it) was simple but stately, the two inadvertent guests being outshone by the splendour of the Bishop, not to mention the King’s other envoys, attired in the Court dress and chains they would be wearing tomorrow at Whitekirk. The Prioresses, returning the courtesy, were dressed in long, simple robes of double Caspian silk, with some important ecclesiastical jewellery. Kathi just wore her best.
Sitting next to her, Nicholas duly admired it. He added, ‘Are you fasting from fright, or from religious conviction?’
She hadn’t spoken to him since Jordan’s outburst. As soon as the conference finished, the old man had gone off to rest, and Crackbene and Nicholas had been locked in discussion with Julius. Adorne had gone to walk in the cloisters with the Genoese bishop. She knew that his faith gave him relief, and was glad. For herself, she had just spent a vociferous two hours in fierce games with Rankin, ending in an attempt to steer him towards bed. Margaret, as ever, was more successful with her winsome sibling than anyone. Vying with her two handsome children, one a Berecrofts, one an Adorne, Kathi refused to admit to cowardice. But certainly she had come to receive comfort from them, rather than give it.
Nicholas guessed as much, of course; hence his present bland question. She was fasting from fright. She suspected that the vast calm of Nicholas also covered something other than lethargy. She said bluntly, ‘I don’t like tonight, and I can’t stand the thought of what is going to happen tomorrow. And now you have St Pol to think about as well.’
‘He could be an asset,’ Nicholas said. ‘If there was an attack after we’d gone, for example. He’ll be here, and the soldiers, and Crackbene. And Jordan isn’t bad, or at least his master-at-arms cost enough. Do you remember the provision cellars, the ones Prospero investigated today?’ Perversely, he was answering as if she were afraid for herself.
She stared at him. ‘Do you know how long we’ve been here? Is there a blade of grass that has escaped me?’
‘Don’t pretend: you’ve enjoyed it. If anything awkward does happen, you should take the children to one of those vaults. They’re locked and barred, and no one could easily see you. And there’s plenty of food. Casks of wine and bags of raisins for weeks.’
‘So Dame Euphemia said. It was one of the first things she suggested,’ Kathi said. She watched his face. ‘That worries you?’
‘Not necessarily. She came here from Eccles because someone thought she was spying,’ Nicholas said. ‘The Bishop her brother lived with the young Sandy in Bruges. But in other ways, as you’ve mentioned, she’s been helpful.’
Kathi gazed at him. ‘She should be. She’s one of Efemie’s godmothers,’ she said. ‘Didn’t she tell you?’
‘No,’ said Nicholas, and gave a grunt halfway between appreciation and laughter. The Prioress, who had been watching them, sent him a sardonic smile, but no more. Nor did she impose herself on them when, at the end of the meal, her six principal guests resorted to the day-room they had been given to make their final plans before morning. Kathi returned to her children, stopping on the way to reconnoitre the cellars. There were four, and their doors gave on to the garth. The keys, trustingly, were all in the locks. She left them there, but noted the cell she would choose. It was a precaution. She was not afraid of what might happen after Nicholas and her uncle had gone. She was blinded with terror and pain over what Nicholas and her uncle would be facing at Whitekirk, tomorrow.
OUTSIDE, THE SNOW gleamed in the dark. Behind the kirk and cloister of St Mary’s, North Berwick, six hundred feet up on the Law, Crackbene’s lookout saw the stirring of movement beyond the Heugh, but at first put it down to stray sheep. A moment later, he grasped that he was looking at a large force of armed foot-soldiers in white, travelling in the direction of the Priory, and accompanied