Niccolo Rising - Dorothy Dunnett [150]
“My lord Simon? He has no quarrel with you. I’ll be out of his sight very soon. He’s more likely to have his hands full with his father. Especially if he’s intriguing for King James, or Bishop Kennedy. I heard some good news today.”
This morning she would have forced a thorough discussion on Simon of Kilmirren. Now she let him change the subject, saving her energy. Good news meant more work, likely as not, and she was exhausted. Nobody negotiates with an underling. Everywhere Claes went, she had to go as well, to lead the discussions. Until, Claes said, Felix was ready. And no doubt Claes was right. Felix, master of tavern-keeping, had still to find the incentive to move to less alluring parts of the business. It might take a long time. And meanwhile, she knew, Felix was still secretly practising his wonderful jousting. So she finally answered Claes with some flatness. “Oh? What good news?”
He had no trouble now on a horse. Riding easily, he turned his blue-capped head and grinned. “Four more meetings. No. Seriously. Captain Lionetto, presently with the condottiere Piccinino, is now officially banking with Depositors Thibault and Jaak de Fleury, our own very good friends of Geneva. Don’t they deserve one another?”
“I feel less charitable,” said his employer. “You say Lionetto was hired by Piccinino? So he’s fighting for King Ferrante, as we are. So he, too, is collecting gold hand over fist from the Duke of Milan and the Pope. When the war is over, whoever wins, Jaak de Fleury will be a rich man and Lionetto will make a fortune. That’s the principle, isn’t it? No matter who wins, the mercenaries make their money. That’s why you’ve persuaded me to send all those extra men to Astorre.”
“Yes, you’ll make a fortune too,” said Claes happily. “But it is good news, all the same. What do you want to do tomorrow?”
“Nothing,” said Marian de Charetty with feeling.
“Well, that’s all right,” said Claes. “I thought I’d take that trip to Louvain we were speaking about. Felix could come with me, with authority to dismiss your new manager. And then we’d go on to Genappe.”
She reined in her horse without meaning to, and then kicked it on before her grooms overtook her. She rode better than he did. Her cloak was perfectly pressed and her hood securely pinned over her rolled cap and coif, so that no hair escaped. Her saddlecloth was in the Charetty blue, edged with scarlet, and her bit and bridle were trimmed with silver. She said, “Felix won’t go to Genappe if you’re with him. And who said anything about dismissing Olivier? You’ve never even met him.”
“Me?” said Claes. “I’ve no feelings one way or the other. But Felix can hear the case and judge for himself. A taste of pit and gallows. Seigneurial power.”
“And Genappe?” said Felix’s mother.
Claes smiled. “I’m going,” he said. “And Felix daren’t let me go without him.”
Four days later Olivier, the manager of the Charetty business at Louvain, found himself dismissed. The enquiry which preceded it took up most of a day, and the dismissal was effected, with aplomb, by the jonkheere Felix de Charetty. Master Olivier, who had heard certain rumours from Bruges, had already completed some of his packing and was allowed to finish the rest, after signing a number of documents. By evening he had gone.
The young broker’s partner whom Claes happened to have brought along to check the accounting, agreed readily to stay temporarily in the manager’s place, which made everything simple. Felix left Claes to show him the ropes and went off to enlighten his university friends about life in the business world. When he came home under a paling sky, the candles were still lit in the managerial office, which was a waste of wax if you like. But he was too sleepy to open the door and complain about it.
When he got up next day, he found an empty house with some cold food on the table. Looking out, however, he saw the courtyard, looking remarkably clean, with a group of people in the middle standing listening to Claes,