The Unicorn Hunt - Dorothy Dunnett [327]
He had turned back to M. de Fleury. M. de Fleury said, ‘I had heard, my lord King.’
‘Something told me,’ said Zacco of Cyprus, ‘that you had heard. Would you not be better standing? Have you nothing to give me?’
M. de Fleury stood. He said, ‘My lord, I had not expected this honour.’
‘But you do not object?” said King James. His face and that of his guest were as bland as the occasion demanded. Physically, it was different. They stood facing one another, Katelijne fancied, like two heraldic animals at once opposed and supporting; violence only an inch away.
M. de Fleury said, ‘There are compensations.’
Beside her, Dr Tobias drew in his breath. James of Cyprus said, ‘I hope so. You knelt. But I would give you the kiss of a friend.’ And laying a long-fingered hand on the other’s shoulder, he leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. ‘There,’ he said, stepping back slowly. ‘You see. You had something to give me, after all.’
Dr Tobias stirred. M. de Fleury said, ‘Monseigneur, I am glad. I only hope that the King thinks it sufficient.’
They were not speaking loudly, but the very silence in the room added to the weight, it seemed, of every breath that they took. For a moment nothing was said. Then the King smiled. ‘I had forgotten your style. Other men, who love you less, might be offended. Today, of course, you are surrounded by lovers. Come. Meet them all. Take wine. Listen to my musicians. Later, refreshed, you and I will open our hearts, and it will seem as if the years between had never existed. Yes, my Nikko?’
She was already tired, and the hours that followed were a labour, although in normal times she would have fallen ravening upon the feast spread before her of opposing personalities, of conflict, of emotion. Some sense of it came to her, and an appreciation, too, of the etiquette, part Byzantine, part Savoyard, which regulated the conduct of both sexes, and ensured that she was placed in the keeping of women of birth who spoke Italianate French and saw to her comfort.
She had forgotten the reference to music. The strains at first hardly reached her over the chatter; then she realised what she was hearing and sought Dr Tobias who turned aside, looking distracted, but was unable to help. ‘Ask Nicholas. There were no musicians that I remember in our time. The Cathedral plainsong, of course.’
The chamberlain, a Sicilian, was more forthcoming. ‘The taste for French music? It dates from the days of my lord’s grandsire: much of it was composed here. Lately, my lord has thought to renew it.’
‘He has found good singers,’ said Katelijne. She saw that, at last, Tobie had thought to look for M. de Fleury. She wondered why James of Cyprus, uninterested in music six years ago, had elected to introduce it tonight. But of course, he was in touch with the Venetian court. He was married to Catherine Corner, even though he had never met her. And M. de Fleury, she remembered, knew Fiorenza of Naxos, Catherine’s mother.
The strings wove their pattern; the voices twined; conversation gave way to some attention as courtiers took their ease on stools and cushions to listen, sipping wine, talking in murmurs. Dr Tobias, returning from somewhere, found a cushioned surface beside her and sat down. The ballads were gallant rather than explicit, but they varied little in theme:
Je prens d’Amour noriture
Nete et pure
Et doucement norissant;
Pour quoi doi bien estre amant
Jusqu’a tant
Qu’en mon cors la vie dure.
I take my nourishment from love
Sublime and pure;
So lover must I stay so long
As life endure.
Katelijne said, ‘Did you find him?’ She concealed the impatience she felt. She could always find M. de Fleury if she tried. Of course, it took time and energy.
‘Nicholas?’ said Dr Tobias. ‘No. I’ll take you home soon.’
‘Why?’ she said. ‘Did he ask you? Where is he?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Dr Tobias. ‘He and the King have both gone.’
Chapter 45
THE GRAND VILLA they took him to was one he knew: it was Venetian. For a moment, arriving there with his heavy escort in