Scales of Gold - Dorothy Dunnett [298]
In front of the Princenhof palace there stood a tableau of St George and St Andrew with two archers, one dispensing Beaune wine, and the other white Rhenish. Beyond them, on a tree, perched a pelican, from whose wounded bosom sprayed an efficient deposit of hippocras. Nicholas thought of John the Baptist and Julius, and wondered if happiness killed, or merely made you insensible.
Everyone went in to dinner. Gelis said, ‘I thought we were supposed to be getting married? What did you do to the weather?’
‘It’s a left-over prayer from Taghaza,’ Nicholas said. ‘Gelis? Could we consummate our marriage now, and hold it later?’
‘We have consummated it,’ Gelis said.
‘I can’t remember,’ Nicholas said. ‘I think I’ve forgotten how to do it. What about –’
‘What are you doing?’ said Julius with exasperation. ‘You know you’re hours late? You know everyone’s waiting? Come on. Or don’t you want to be married?’
‘Do we?’ said Nicholas.
‘Well, we’d better,’ Gelis said. ‘If you’ve forgotten, someone will have to remind you, or you will have a very odd life.’
The Hôtel Gruuthuse was very quiet, for the great officers were today at the Princenhof. Only Marguerite van Borselen had stayed behind, and a few other faces from the past, Anselm Adorne and his lady among them. The legal hand-fasting was mostly witnessed by his own people: Tobie and Julius, Gregorio and Margot, Astorre and Diniz, Tilde and Catherine, Cristoffels and Henninc and Bonkle.
Melchiorre and Vito were there, and unexpectedly Lucia de St Pol, her arm in that of Bel of Cuthilgurdy. At the last moment, Henry van Borselen came, with his son Wolfaert, to kiss the bride and leave, with whispered apologies. Then the Mass was heard, with Godscalc, shaved, steady, unrecognisable, conducting it.
Then it was over, and his life had changed for ever.
Nicholas embraced his wife. It was the first time, for two months, he had touched her. She said, ‘I think you have remembered. What was all this about jousts?’
‘That comes later,’ he said. ‘As from now, we rejoin the ducal wedding and proceed with due care to the marketplace. I’ve taken a house for us all. We watch them all hit one another. We retire to the Princenhof for the grand Wedding banquet –’
‘Ours?’ she said.
‘No, the Duke’s. It’s better, and free. And then we go home to bed.’
‘The Duke’s?’ she said.
‘Well, you can if you like,’ Nicholas said. ‘But you’d have some competition. Why not stick with me?’
The rain slackened off for the jousting which, delayed by the entry and dinner, was not ready to start until six. The marketplace, lined with arcades and hung with silk and gold tapestries, was unrecognisable to anyone who hadn’t been toiling to make them, while the painted portals at either end and the vast gilded fir in the middle reminded the lieges yet again of the theme of the spectacle. The Tournament of the Tree of Gold was about to begin.
Nicholas, who had leased a whole house for the price of eight camels, was willing to explain it to anybody. ‘It happens all the time. Some princess of an unknown isle has proffered favour –’
‘What sort of favour?’ said Tobie.
‘Has proffered top prices at the next wine auction to any knight who will deliver a certain giant, kept in captivity by a dwarf. That’s the giant, that’s the dwarf, and that’s the golden tree the giant’s chained to. The participants arrive at the St Christopher end, bang the golden hammer, and issue their spirited challenge.’
‘Met by whom?’ Gregorio said.
‘Are you blind?’ Julius said. ‘All the challengers are being met by the Bastard Antony.’
‘He’s forty-seven,’ Tobie said. ‘I don’t see him lasting the pace.’
‘He’s not bad,’ Diniz said.
‘Where is he?’ Gelis asked.
An immense yellow pavilion rolled on to the lists, propelled by six sweating pages and followed by wild-eyed horses covered with purple velvet and bells. The tent opened, and the Bastard of Burgundy leaped from it, fully armed, on the back of a horse.
‘You don’t mind,’ Nicholas said, ‘if I don’t actually watch this? I’m expecting some guests.’
Gregorio got up, and so did Diniz