Race of Scorpions - Dorothy Dunnett [122]
‘John de Kinloch,’ Nicholas said. ‘A Scottish chaplain from Bruges. He knows the demoiselle Katelina.’
He looks happy to see you,’ said Tobie.
‘He is,’ Nicholas said. ‘I kidnapped him in Cyprus to stop him telling the Vasquez who I was. To stop him telling the Knights who I was, for that matter. If Katelina doesn’t have me hanged for killing Tristão, then that fellow will.’
Chapter 19
TO RECEIVE THE judgement of the great prince Pierre-Raimond Zacosta, Grand Master of the Order of the Knights Hospitaller of St John of Jerusalem, it was necessary to march through the gates of the Castello, the inner town of the Religion, and by climbing between the tall Inns of the Knights with their pointed doorframes and marble-grid windows to attain the austere Gothic arch at the top. There, beside the loggia and the church, stood the fortified Palace of the Grand Master, in whose courtyard the Court of King Arthur ought to have displayed its martial prowess two days before.
Nicholas walked to his appointment between two files of armed men, and with him were all four officers who had set out on that abortive joust; for John le Grant and Thomas had been put under restraint like themselves immediately on their return from Kalopetra. In the two days of their confinement, Nicholas had spent most of his time with Astorre’s men. Barring a few new recruits, they all knew him – either as the wild Charetty apprentice, or as the husband of Marian de Charetty who employed them, or as the man who took them to Trebizond and brought them back again, richer than they had ever been before. And since then, of course, as the future patron who had fought with them in Italy, before he turned up in Rhodes.
They knew him, and they trusted Astorre, so that they believed that there was nothing, in the long run, to be anxious about. For two days he worked to impress himself on them, and also to get to know them again in his turn. With some it was easy to revive the old camaraderie. With others he brought out the whole battery of bawdy talk and good-natured roughhousing, of reminiscent exchanges, of gossip and long, deep talking late into the night. He could never go back to the techniques of his boyhood – they had to respect him, as well as enjoy his company. Judging men was an art at which he excelled, and he enjoyed practising it. He could have done with more than two days, but it was enough to carry them with him, when eventually he talked of the immediate future.
Not that he told them the whole story, any more than he had told it to Tobie or Astorre or the rest. He did, however, place before men and officers the greater part of his plans, because he could see that Tobie, at least, would not follow him further in ignorance. And they needed to know, or they could spoil it all.
But for the mistakes beside Kalopetra, he would have been elated. Stage by delightful stage, his process was activating itself. He knew how dangerous it was, and that all his future hung on this confrontation with the Grand Master, and what was bound to follow. If he made another miscalculation, he could lose everything. But of course, that was the attraction. And the responsibility was entirely his. He had chosen the game, and others had elected to join him, or to oppose him. Playing was not compulsory.
The Palace of Rhodes was magnificent. No one spoke entering the portal between the drum towers and passing into the noise of the vast inner courtyard, full of people and animals, banners and armour. They carried no arms, he and his four companions, and appeared only in sober pourpoint, doublet and cloak, their hats little adorned, their hose plain, their buttons and belts less than flamboyant. He wore, since he had not yet been deprived of it, the blue and silver badge of his Cypriot Order. As they crossed the yard, men stopped and looked, and he could hear the tramp of their feet repeated from the hollow arcading, and see men looking down from the open galleries above. In the far corner, on its uneven arches rose the ceremonial flight of steps leading