The Unicorn Hunt - Dorothy Dunnett [225]
The Doge had accepted his gold and his ships. Subsequently, he had not only freed Nicholas de Fleury from war service, but allotted him additional privileges by virtue of his forthcoming mission to Egypt. The Doge, too, had been harangued by Ludovico da Bologna.
That, then, was disposed of. And God knew Nicholas didn’t have to hunt for reasons for not taking Gelis. It irritated him, none the less, to have to prepare for a confrontation. He hadn’t planned to leave until Easter was over, and all the ceremonies that launched the sailing season just after: the Corpus Christi processions, pairing pilgrims with senators; the Marriage of the Sea on Ascension Day, when five thousand ships accompanied the Bucentaur of the Doge to the neck of the Lido, where the Doge cast a ring in the sea and then invoked the Lord’s blessing in the church of St Nicholas, saint beloved of mariners; saint whose power, they claimed, could endow the childless with sons.
He had counted on having weeks more in hand before he joined the Ciaretti.
He spent a few short-tempered days. The news, when it came, was brought by a courier from Genoa. Adorne was there with his son and the others. They were proceeding to Rome, and the lady Gelis van Borselen was still with them. The doctor had stopped at Pavia.
‘The doctor? What doctor?’ had said Julius impatiently. This dispatch had been brought to the padrone in his chamber, and after reading it through, Nicholas had called the others to hear.
‘Guess,’ said Nicholas. ‘Who is the expectant nephew of Giammatteo Ferrari, the wealthiest professor of medicine in Pavia? Who has managed to achieve a free trip to see his frail uncle, and perhaps even view his frail uncle’s printing presses?’
‘Tobias Beventini?’ said John le Grant. He eyed Nicholas.
‘Tobie?’ said Julius. ‘I thought he disliked his uncle.’
‘He doesn’t dislike his uncle’s library,’ Nicholas said. ‘And the old man’s own children are dead.’ He glanced at Father Moriz. ‘You met our Tobie. He nursed Father Godscalc’
‘Oh, I know him,’ said his metallurgical priest. ‘We spoke a few times in Bruges.’
‘Did you?’ said Nicholas. He was aware of saying it sourly, for it explained a number of things. The rest of his mind was on the other problem.
John le Grant was thinking on the same lines, it seemed. He said, ‘You say your lady’s still with Adorne?’
‘They’re spending Easter in Rome. After that, instead of sailing from there, they propose to come north and take ship from Genoa. Adorne has a programme of calls he means to make on the way to the Holy Land. Corsica, Sardinia, Tunis – the voyage could take seven or eight weeks.’
‘What will she do?’ le Grant said.
‘Stay with her party,’ said Father Moriz unexpectedly. ‘For if she comes here, no doubt she knows you will attempt to obstruct her.’
‘That’s what I thought,’ Nicholas said. It surprised him that anyone else had worked it out. He could, of course, send persuasive friends to try to separate her from Adorne and bring her back home. He could go himself. But even if he contrived to get her away, it was hard to know how to keep her from going to Egypt, unless pinned down in irons. And that was not – not yet – part of the game. Anyway, as soon as she was alone, she’d take ship somehow. He had resigned himself to that.
He decided to leave Venice before April was finished. He had some business to do in Florence. If he got to Alexandria in June, he could keep ahead of her all the way if he wished. He could vanish.
He made his final calls. He had not avoided the homes of those Venetian merchants who had married the sisters from Naxos, but he had not, as it happened, spent any time with the princesses