Niccolo Rising - Dorothy Dunnett [272]
The only people in Bruges who didn’t seem happy about Nicholas were all the girls he used to go about with, who must have been hoping that he would get tired of the Widow and begin to chase them again. Once, Julius had passed the time of day with a high-ranking party from Veere with whom he thought he had no particular quarrel, until he saw the venom on the face of a fat little party he remembered as the younger Borselen girl. Nicholas, at whom she was staring, looked back at her with no expression at all, which was one of his commonest gambits these days. No longer were you able to track down Nicholas by the sound of other folks’ laughter. But, of course, it wouldn’t be right anyway, when you remembered poor Felix.
In the middle of all of this, the bald-headed doctor Tobias arrived from the Abruzzi, having presumably patched up Count Federigo and all those of his army susceptible to cure. Like Julius himself, Tobie was red-brown from the Italian sun and impressed, you could see, by the Spangnaerts Street house which, like Julius, he hadn’t seen before; and also by Gregorio, who was new to him. Gregorio and Tobie weighing each other up was a study which Julius rather enjoyed. He thought they might be a match for each other.
Nicholas wasn’t there, so Tobie had a session alone with the demoiselle about Astorre and his winter quarters, and the winding up of the contract and, presumably, Tobie’s recruitment to Nicholas’ alum venture and his share in it. Of them all, the doctor had shown least interest in the demoiselle’s marriage, but that was presumably because he hardly knew her anyway. After all, their only previous encounter was ten months before when he had applied to join Astorre instead of Lionetto.
He emerged from the meeting apparently unscathed, and from the way he walked into the office, evidently had reason to think he belonged to it. The clerks were away at the time, but the room looked businesslike enough, with its tables and cupboards and orderly litter. Tobie glanced round, nodded to Julius and Gregorio, and said, “And where is the young master?”
Julius frowned. Gregorio remarked in a voice of truly organ-like pitch, “You will find that, in this house, the young master is dead. Nicholas will be back soon. He is presiding, with some reluctance, over the burial of a great-uncle.”
Tobie lifted a hand and passed it over his bald head, removing his sober black bonnet. He said, “I nearly had to be buried myself. That’s why I didn’t exactly hurry here. My late captain overtook me on the road and tried to make out I’d deliberately ruined him. I left him looking for Jaak de Fleury instead.”
“He found him,” said Gregorio dryly. “If your late employer was Lionetto.”
Julius noticed that Tobie and Gregorio were staring at each other. Tobie said, “It’s Jaak de Fleury who’s being buried?”
Gregorio nodded gently. “Killed by Lionetto. Who departed the same day at speed. He must regret he changed sides. If he’d stayed with Piccinino, none of this would have happened.”
Julius said, “Never mind Lionetto. Have we got a new condotta?”
Tobie looked back. “Oh, yes,” he said. “At least, we’ve been offered one. Astorre is everyone’s favourite captain, since he got himself safely out of Naples and rushed straight to the feet of Urbino. This year’s campaign against Piccinino is over. Urbino’s accepted a renewed contract as well, and is taking his army to winter just north of Rome, in Magliano, so that he and Alessandro can see the Pope over Christmas. Astorre will go with him until he hears what we … what the demoiselle wants him to do.”
Julius said, “If you mean Nicholas, why not say so?” He was saying it when Nicholas came in, but he didn’t seem to have heard it, and was looking instead at Tobie, and then