Niccolo Rising - Dorothy Dunnett [74]
A becoming colour had risen under the tanned skin of Julius. “And so,” he said, “who visited Madame de Fleury?”
“A dream,” said the doctor. “Unhappy creature, she is plainly subject to such things. I shall prescribe a soothing liquor. When I’ve informed our friend Claes of his own nocturnal movements. Where do you think I could find him?”
Perseverance being one of his attributes, Tobie discovered the locked cellar which contained the apprentice, and found his way, discreetly, to a useful barred window. It was close to the ground. When he sat down beside it and called, he was answered equally quietly. He was in time at least to prime Claes in his story, if not, he saw, to forestall his first beating from the de Fleury grooms. It was no more, said Claes a trifle shakily, than he had grown accustomed to from Thomas. And so where, asked Tobie mildly, had he actually been on the previous night? He gazed down into the cellar and Claes gazed up, Tobie’s shadow on his disarming face.
A doctor is never surprised. Tobie Beventini was quite prepared to learn that something had taken place between his former patient and the woman de Fleury. She was quite capable of accosting the boy. The boy, for reasons of his own was quite capable, Tobie thought, of taking advantage of it. Revenge sometimes took curious forms. His reading of Claes was not the same as that of Julius.
Claes said, “She is abnormally made. He married her for her property.”
“So?” said Tobie.
“So it helps her to believe she’s desirable. Meester Julius knows. It’s why he left. It’s sad. But her husband exploits it.”
“Then why should he accuse you?” Tobie said. “And where were you last night?”
“With their servants,” said Claes. “But I wouldn’t say so. I got away eight years ago, but many didn’t. There’s another niece … It doesn’t matter. As for accusing me – it was just because I did get away. I have nothing to lose, so I might tell about Madame Esota’s sickness.”
“Sickness!” said Tobie.
Claes looked up at him sideways. “You’re not ugly,” he said. “Or married to Jaak de Fleury.”
Tobie studied the boy. He said, “But for me, de Fleury would have destroyed you. Your notary friend too, very likely. You are very forgiving, my dear Claes. But if you don’t take up your own battles, you leave a heavy task for your betters. Or perhaps that’s what you want?”
Below him Claes moved, and straw rustled. Claes said, “Do you believe that? I hope not. I can’t thank you enough for your trouble. But indeed, there was no need to do anything.”
“Losing your nose or your hands wouldn’t matter?”
Claes said, with diffidence, “It happens or it doesn’t happen. It’s for me to arrange, well or badly. Indeed. I appreciate what you did. A second rescue. But I don’t mean to involve others this time.”
“You haven’t the choice,” said Tobie. “No one has.”
The other was silent. It was a deliberate silence. Tobie pressed him. “You’d never thought of that?” said Tobie.
“I think of people dependent on me,” said Claes. The cellar was cold, but he sat quite still, his crossed arms tight round his body. “But no one needs to shoulder my burdens.”
“Not even the people who are dependent on you?” said Tobie.
That disturbed the boy a little. He said, “You and Meester Julius are not.”
“Perhaps not. But you are our conscience,” said Tobie. “If we let injustice touch you, then we demean ourselves. Whether you want it or not, we have to interfere. As those who owe you something will do. You are not a free agent. Hasn’t your employer told you as much, after one of those escapades of yours? But perhaps it’s unfair to recall them. This time, there is no fault on your part. Therefore accept help willingly given.”
“Help asked for, yes,” said the boy. “Master Tobie …”
He could not fathom what the youth wanted. He waited.
“Master Tobie,