Niccolo Rising - Dorothy Dunnett [156]
Claes said, “Sir, Monsieur Gaston would tell you. I am employed by a burgess of Bruges. Her company has been hired by the Duke of Milan to help King Ferrante of Naples. As her courier my services have been retained by the Duke, by the company of the Medici and by yourself to carry dispatches and news. I brought you messages from Monsieur Gaston and from my lord the Duke of Milan, and through Messer Arnolfini have been well paid.”
“But that,” said the Dauphin, smiling, “is only the first indication of the warmth of our feelings for you. For such a relationship must depend on trust, must it not? For example, it is not convenient that the messages to me from Monsieur Gaston or my lord the Duke should fall into other hands. And yet my illustrious father, we discover, is fully aware that Monsieur Gaston has stayed in Milan, and even that he has paid a visit on my behalf to Savoy.” The Dauphin lifted his arm and signed half a cross with the heel of his hand, renouncing anxiety. “Not, of course, that my father the King should find such news amiss. My family is twice linked with Savoy; exchanges of gossip are natural.” The hand, darting, caught Claes’ arm like a bird claw descending. “As you, my boy will appreciate. Thibault and Jacques de Fleury of Geneva are your kinsmen, I’m told.”
Claes said, “Monsieur Gaston knows my position. I am a base-born great-nephew. I owe them nothing, and they prefer to have nothing to do with me. There is a legitimate heiress. I have nothing to gain or lose should you decide to win their allegiance.”
“Of course I believe you,” said the Dauphin. “Although an unkind person might say that a bribe to Monsieur Jacques de Fleury from me might well find its way, some of it, into your purse. And that even accepting a bribe, the family might be so dishonest as to serve my father secretly. As it is –”
He paused, and Claes dropped his eyes.
“– As it is, Monsieur Gaston tells me that Messieurs Thibault and Jacques have refused to move from their allegiance to the Duke of Savoy and my father. He offered them a considerable sum. As I said, my father knows of my chamberlain’s visit. He presumably knows because your great-uncle and his family told him. But you say you have nothing to do with them.”
“My lord,” said Claes. “You are related to Anjou.”
Again, the slight movement at his back. Again, the black glance above the long, pointed nose. Then the Dauphin, lifting his hand, tapped it once, sharply on Claes’ arm and removed it.
“We are playing chess again,” he said. “How very forward we are. But is this the best you can do to convince me of your good faith? Will you not extract what secrets, what coin you may from us all, and then abscond from the good lady your employer? Abscond to Venice, perhaps. I am told on the best of authority that you already have a modicum salted away and we know, of course, of the high regard of the Acciajuoli. How can I be sure that the secrets of my dispatches will remain secure in the hands of such a code-breaker?”
The Dauphin had put his fingers together, his gaze tranquil. Claes considered. The other men had ceased eating. Speaking in murmurs, they paid no apparent attention to the discussion. The astrologer, whose name he still didn’t know, had rejoined them. A man emerged from the trees where the horses were, looked round and went back quickly, but not before Claes had seen him.
Claes said, “Well, my lord, that’s the trouble about messengers. You can never tell. You can reward them so highly that they’ll favour you more than the other fellow; but you can’t know if the other fellow isn’t doing the same. You can threaten, and if he makes a mistake, of course you have him. But the only sure way is not to engage him. My lord, my mistress is well paid by the Duke and by the Medici. There is no need for you to employ me.”
The Dauphin picked a piece of grass and held it at arm’s length, studying