Race of Scorpions - Dorothy Dunnett [24]
But of course, there were quite a few people, when you thought of it, who didn’t want Nicholas settled in Bruges. The friends of my lord Simon and his wife Katelina. The friends of Carlotta of Cyprus. The Genoese, who thought of him as a Venetian rival. The officials, dependants and family of Duke Philip of Flanders and Burgundy, who also knew that his funds were in Venice. The Duke was a friend of Milan, and Milan had grave suspicions of Venice. Himself, he didn’t blame them. He was taken out in the morning, his hands tied, to appear before the nearest magistrate. The magistrate, of course, was Anselm Adorne, and the place of his hearing was Adorne’s beautiful house by the Jerusalemkirk.
He had been judged by Adorne before, always fairly. Born of Genoese stock, the family had through the generations filled the highest offices in Bruges, and were known for their wealth and their piety. Anselm Adorne had been a child when his father and uncle had built the Jerusalemkirk, in celebration of their return from the Holy Land. He was now thirty-seven and a man of great comeliness, with a slender build which could yet carry off prizes at shooting and jousting; a clear brain which increased his wealth and brought him the confidence of the city, and an easy manner which made him both a good drinking companion and the happily married father of an increasing number of small children. He and Margriet his wife had been among the few who had sustained Marian de Charetty in her wish to marry her junior apprentice: the wedding had been held here, in the Jerusalemkirk. And since, as he had heard, they had supported Tilde and Catherine, Marian’s daughters.
Of course, Anselm Adorne was still, in his heart, Genoese. It was unlikely, from what Nicholas knew of him, that he had connived at yesterday’s experience, or would take seriously the accusations against him. But whether he did so or not hardly mattered. Before him lay a meeting with the persons who had known Marian best.
He came carefully, therefore to Adorne’s door, his guards behind, and did not speak when he saw that Adorne himself was awaiting him. Adorne looked past him and said, ‘I have guards of my own. You have no need to enter. Come back in half an hour when I have judged the case.’
In his cabinet, which was empty, Anselm lifted a knife from his desk and cut his bonds. ‘Sit by the fire. Why not come to me in the first place? I would have taken you to the house.’
Nicholas sat, one hand nesting the other. ‘Then I wish I had,’ he said. ‘Or perhaps better not. Tilde still trusts you.’
‘Sometimes she listens,’ Adorne said. ‘You made her a gift of a very good team, and she respects them. Only in some things she is stubborn.’ He paused. ‘I find it difficult to speak of her mother. If it was hard for Marian, it was even harder for you. To be away when she was in need: to hear the news of her death in such a way. To come back to Bruges and find this. I can only say that, had she known, she would have altered nothing. Her marriage brought her great happiness.’
‘Thank you,’ Nicholas said. ‘I have been to Fleury. I met the lady of Damparis who sheltered her.’
‘So did Tilde and Gregorio,’ Adorne said. ‘She was well cared for. Margriet has spoken to Tilde, and will tell you more.’
He didn’t want to hear more. ‘Tilde thought I would steal from her,’ Nicholas said. ‘It seems odd.’
‘Does it?’ said Adorne. ‘Then it will seem even odder when I tell you that she is afraid for her life. All the world knows that if Tilde dies unmarried, you inherit. Behind all this agitation, of course, is something quite simple.’
‘I’m glad,’ Nicholas said.
‘It has been shocking, I know. Especially considering the sad pilgrimage you have made. But what Tilde fears is your influence. You must know that.