Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [50]
In his richt hand the keyis of the zet …
For to this knycht as capitane of the tovne
Thai suld obeye in absens of the crovne.
ARRIVED IN THE dark, as now seemed habitual, at the great Berecrofts house in the Canongate, Nicholas bestowed suitable drink-silver upon his princely escort from Roslin and watched them depart. Under the lanterns at pend and at porch, the engrailed cross of St Clair had made its own emphatic statement: none of your anonymity here. There were several heads out of windows already.
As a result, he didn’t have to rasp at any doors: one was flung open at once and Archie’s chamberlain came out, followed quickly by Berecrofts the Younger himself. Nicholas relinquished his horse and came forward. ‘No news. I’ve just called to see you.’
‘Oh,’ said Archie, changing colour. Then he swore. ‘God’s bones, I’m turning into a woman. Nicol, I’m sorry. Ye look—’
‘Wabbit. I feel fine. I’ve just come from Roslin. I’ve been talking business with Nowie.’
‘Nowie?’ Archie said.
‘Well, not yet; but I’m working on it,’ said Nicholas. ‘Sir Oliver Sinclair at present. And saw Cochrane and Whistle Willie as well. Now I remember why I left Scotland. Is Sersanders in?’ He was so tired he felt queasy, but knew from experience that it would pass. There were two flights of stairs up to the main hall, which was bigger than his had been. When he had had his bureau in Edinburgh, he had built the house next door. Just outside the portals to Edinburgh; just up from Holyroodhouse; just round the corner from the road leading to Leith. A substantial property, which he had sold, like everything else, and which Archie had bought for Kathi and Robin, his son. And which was now occupied, he supposed, by Anselm Sersanders, Kathi’s brother. Or Saunders, as he heard Archie calling him. It was shorter. And two Anselms would be confusing, in trade.
He wondered what name Phemie would give to her child, which none here knew about, and none must suspect, or not yet. Nicholas had Phemie’s note to her lover, slipped him before he left Roslin. It would have to travel by ship. He would ride to Leith at first light tomorrow. This was his third day in Edinburgh, and he was sad, and elated, and exhausted. He hadn’t realised how easy it had been, surviving in Moscow, or Tabriz, or Thorn. He thought, with despair, that what he actually wanted, imperatively, was a woman. No; specifically, it was Gelis, alone.
Sersanders (Saunders) appeared. He said, ‘Nicholas.’
It was not ecstatic. From his point of view, Nicholas had done everything in his power in the past to damage Scots trade, in a successful attempt to harm the St Pol family. Now he was back. The fact that he had been accepted in Bruges; that dowry gold had replenished the Scots treasury; that the St Pols were being slowly re-established, had not wholly reassured Kathi’s brother. He sat on the edge of a table and said, without shaking hands, ‘You’ve no news of Robin. No. Did you ever find out who made an exercise-bag of your face?’
The answer, if he had been willing to give it, was yes. The minions of Henry de St Pol, who was or was not at this moment in his apartment at Holyrood, awaiting him. Or wrecking it. Or standing behind the door with an axe. Nicholas said, ‘I’d forgotten about it. Did you get Kathi’s letter?’
Some of the grimness left Saunders’s face. He had always had a short temper, perhaps because he was smaller than most men. People underrated Adorne’s Scottish agent his nephew, unless they noticed his shoulders and arms, and heard what he could do in a tournament. He was in his early thirties, and ten years older than Kathi. Now he got up and walked to a stool nearer Nicholas, where he sat down. He said, ‘I’m sorry. She said you were badly hurt at Nancy yourself. But you seemed to be interested only in trade, and it was my understanding that you had come back to settle accounts with the St Pols and de Salmeton. Until you do, it seems everyone is in danger.’
Adorne must have written before Christmas. It was natural. Nicholas said, ‘I need a reason