The Unicorn Hunt - Dorothy Dunnett [153]
Gregorio turned and smiled, taking pleasure in the boy’s fresh face and simplicity. Gregorio said, ‘Of course not. I’ve got the best view in the Canongate. Come and see the end of the procession. Look: have you ever seen so many dwarves?’
‘No. Come down,’ said Robin. ‘M. de Fleury misses you.’
He was only a child. But his gaze, clear and steady, was troubled.
Gregorio said, he didn’t know why, ‘I’m sorry. Yes. Of course, I will come.’
‘And follow the procession. I’m going to. You should. Or you’ll miss Katelijne’s singing,’ said Robin encouragingly.
Gregorio ruffled his hair and followed him out. Nicholas, so far as he could see, had not missed him. But the boy, you could see, thought he was God. And one could not always be sure.
Later, the Scottish envoys, having deposited their charges at the Abbey, rode uphill again and passed into Edinburgh, to report to the King at the Castle.
Later, a masque was peformed in front of the Abbey, watched by the Danish Princess from her window.
Later, in a long column of white satin, led by trumpeters and escorted by musicians, James, King of Scotland, rode downhill into the Canongate to attend a private banquet, and to be introduced to his bride. With him he brought his half-uncles, his brothers and Mary and Margaret, his sisters. Their veils blew, misting all the bold colours behind them, and a blizzard of gold from their harness passed over each house as they came. The lady Mary was white.
Later, although the food and wine had not faltered, the tribune, parlour and chambers of the Banco di Niccolò started to empty at last. By dusk, even their own clerks had gone, and Nicholas de Fleury and his lawyer were alone with Old Berecrofts and Archie, come to share a last pitcher of wine by the open windows with their drooping burden of garlands.
The Abbot’s banquet was over. Returning, the lady Mary’s cheeks had no longer been pale, nor her veiling so pristine and stiff. The King’s ruddy face was preoccupied, and that of Albany wore a half-smile.
‘Aye, aye,’ said Berecrofts the elder now, from the window. ‘I hear it passed off well enough. Naebody spewed, or mistook the fire for a drain, or clapped a wench to the hurt of her laces. But she’s an awfu’ young lass. And he isna going to wait like a monk, not with the itch he’s got on him already. The Stewarts aye ripened in ae place afore they matured i’ the tither. I’m told they had a table worth seeing, with Danish sea-kings in sugar afore every place. That woudna be you?’
‘Well, I hope no one else is getting paid for it,’ de Fleury said.
Berecrofts eyed him. ‘And the wedding feast, when it comes? They had a boar’s head stuffed with flax-tufts the last time. Then they set fire to the flax. Ye could hardly dae better nor that.’
‘It must have been a great moment,’ said de Fleury.
‘Aye. But rumour says you’ve planned something a wee bittie different. And there’s the white satin today. And the chains. I’ve seen gold that thickness before, but no’ often. I hope you’ll no’ hold your breath till you’re paid for it. Jamie’s no’ got sovereign authority yet. Ye might have to wait till the autumn.’
De Fleury drank. ‘What makes you think I shall leave even then?’ It was water, again. He added, ‘There’s enough trade for us all.’
‘Aye,’ said Berecrofts. ‘So long as ye mind it.’ He got up. ‘Man, I’m auld. We’d best be off. What’s this I hear about the tourney tomorrow?’
‘A friendly challenge,’ said Nicholas de Fleury. ‘I’m well down the list. If I’m killed, Gregorio will stay on and send in the invoices. It’ll be flaming boar’s head for the wedding feast, though.’
Archie grinned. His father barked. They both crossed the yard and made for their house. Gregorio waited until Nicholas turned back indoors. Then he said, ‘I should have realised where the shoulder-chains came from. I know they can pay for it, eventually, out of the dowry. But Nicholas, gold of that weight is going to set us seriously out of pocket in the meantime, on top of the horses, the clothes,