The Unicorn Hunt - Dorothy Dunnett [143]
Which brought one to Nicholas de Fleury. But for Simon’s denial, Nicholas, son of Sophie de Fleury his first wife, could have hoped to claim all this land in due course. He had dropped the claim. But since then, he had been given reason, if any man had, to return the injury Simon had done him.
From what Julius said, he had already inflicted on Simon – and received – as much punishment as the quarrel warranted. Lucia’s death surely had not been intended, but Katelijne, who had been there, had little to say about it and Julius, who had a great deal, had not been a full witness. Nevertheless, but for the quarrel, Lucia would not have died, or the child Henry been drawn into trouble. Before others were hurt, de Fleury should bring the feud to an end. Instead, he bought land.
He could have no feeling for Kilmirren, or Scotland. At best, you could say that its language was one of his tongues; that he had merchant acquaintances; that he could make himself acceptable now and then in court circles. Set against all the rest the world offered, it was nothing.
But he also had a wife and, now, a family. Owning Kilmirren – all of it – he could do what Jordan de Ribérac had done: instal an agent, and take his comfort abroad, as a landed man with possessions and title.
Jordan would never sell. Even threats against Henry would not make him. So Nicholas de Fleury would have to acquire Kilmirren in some other way. As the son of Simon – but how could he prove it? Or as the survivor, of course, as, one by one, his family continued to die.
Gregorio caught his first sight of the castle at noon: a keep with rambling accretions, set in a large, irregular yard with high walls. Naturally it was empty: the vicomte away; Simon and his son safely dispatched overseas until Henry’s misdemeanour was forgotten. The personal staff had gone with them. Gregorio wondered which lordly household had the training of Henry at such times. Anyone, probably, would be better than Simon. He reined in, finding he had come upon clusters of low, turf-roofed houses too scattered to be called a village. Twenty people and as many children had come to watch them pass, and dogs began to run at their heels. Chickens squawked and a pig stood in his way.
The de Fleury men were well trained, and rode carefully. The glance of their padrone was equable, but he did not stop. It was known they were coming: the Kilmirren steward had even offered the hospitality of the castle, in the vicomte’s absence. An acceptance, however, would have alarmed him. All those who served Kilmirren would know who this man was, and what their lords thought of him. A mile away, Gregorio could still feel their gaze on the back of his neck.
Then they came to a fence and a hedge, and a kitchen garden well hoed, beyond which was the Little Hall, the two-storeyed building which had been the home of Lucia de St Pol y Vasquez.
Nicholas de Fleury dismounted. A burly man strode from the doorway – Oliver Semple, second cousin to Sir William. Gregorio had met him in Edinburgh. Semple said, ‘I brought two grooms. The stables are still in good order. And good day to ye both. Ye do well?’
‘Well enough,’ his new employer said. ‘Master Gregorio has found the ride rather long. Perhaps you and I should talk first, and he could wait for us in the parlour. Is there someone there?’
The factor said, ‘How did ye guess? Ah, Sir William. Aye, Mistress Bel, her of Cuthilgurdy, rode round. If it pleases ye, there’s enough in my hampers to serve the lady as well.’
‘How extremely provident,’ said Nicholas de Fleury. ‘We shall see you later then, Goro. Tell the lady we shall not be too long.’
Bel was alone. She looked exactly