Race of Scorpions - Dorothy Dunnett [101]
Then her eyes turned, sparkling, and she said, ‘Luis, my husband. Give him your hand, and let us lead him to the feast. He is our newest Knight, who is about to save Cyprus. And here is Primaflora our lady, to whom we will bind him in fruitful and sanctified matrimony.’
Loppe (Lopez) brought the news to the house on the corner of St Sebastian Square which belonged once to the Queen’s cousin Eleanor, and then to the Grand Commander of Cyprus, and now, by the Queen’s special desire (and to M. de Magnac’s distress), to the leaders of Niccolò’s army.
In this house, there were no locks on the doors, and an abundance of service, of food, of amenities. Astorre was satisfied, having expected no less from the coming of Nicholas. What pleased Astorre, Thomas was unlikely to query. Only the engineer accepted the change with guarded enthusiasm and the doctor, Tobie, looked grim. ‘I don’t like it.’
‘You don’t need to like it,’ said John le Grant. ‘Look on it as a wee holiday. We’ll be back in the prison tomorrow.’
It was four months since the battle of Troia, from which Nicholas had been so suddenly spirited away. It was more than a year since John le Grant had parted from him in Venice before setting out for his own trip to Bruges. Since he arrived in Rhodes, only Loppe had seen Nicholas.
Of them all, only Astorre and Loppe might, of their own volition, have waited so long for him on Rhodes. Astorre, with the confidence of the sought-after, knew that, whatever had happened to Nicholas, he could pick up a job here at any time. He did not, in fact, believe that anything untoward could happen to Nicholas, and he was sure that, when he could, Nicholas would set out and find them. When his credentials were undermined by Katelina, Astorre was annoyed, but philosophical. He was reasonably well housed and fed at no expense to himself, barring a little reciprocal work. The interval would not exactly enhance his career or his savings, but with Nicholas, it was going to be worth it.
The doctor, and perhaps John le Grant were less sure. The hard words in Venice still rankled with Tobie, and he regretted quite often the impetuosity of his decision to leave Urbino and Ferrante for an uncertain career with this meteor. Mixed with that was an angry anxiety which would have led him, were he free, to track Nicholas to whatever sybaritic lair he was occupying in order to walk out on him all over again.
John rarely talked about Nicholas, and made his own decisions on grounds he never discussed with anybody. Astorre thought, perhaps rightly, that the engineer, sure of work, would remain like himself to seek the first interesting and lucrative contract. Tobie was inclined to think the same, for other reasons. It seemed to Tobie that John disliked being tied to anyone as unpredictable as Nicholas, or perhaps even to anyone who drew people close to him as Nicholas did. Thomas, who had never been close to anyone except Astorre, simply wished he were somewhere fighting, or somewhere where he could spend the proceeds of fighting. He liked the money, but was aware, heavily, that Nicholas complicated his life.
So, translated to their new surroundings, the four awaited news from Loppe, and wondered if they still had a leader, and when they would see him. At least, he had come and had found them. There was some grounds for optimism in that. Pleasure, even. Perhaps even an unconfessed exhilaration. Then Loppe arrived, with a ludicrous story.
He interrupted himself, giggling, while he told it. Tobie sat up. Astorre stared, then broke down into hiccoughing laughter. ‘They made the knave into a knight! Oh! Oh! Urbino’ll kill himself laughing.’
‘Well, Urbino’s a count,’ said John le Grant. His skin was as red as his hair, although his freckled face merely looked pained. ‘Other people have got to start somewhere. So that’s what our Nicholas wanted? Who’d have guessed it?’
‘I should,’ said Tobie briefly. ‘But