The Unicorn Hunt - Dorothy Dunnett [349]
He thought she was waiting for someone. But when she had his attention she moved, her white-gloved fingers pressed to her throat, her steps moving softly down the far side of the bridge and away. He heard a breath of laughter, and when he reached the crown of the bridge, found lingering there a scent he did not know. Far ahead, in the mist, a cloak floated. She had been waiting for him.
Behind, Simon called his name, and the girl with him giggled. She was a handsome whore, the best in the house, and Simon had not let him share her. That was his right: he was the teacher, and there were other things he and Jan were going to do together. But that night, Jan had something in prospect other than a harlot of the second rank, however exclusive the establishment. The cloak fluttered ahead, and he followed.
Julius said, ‘You know Jan Adorne? I thought I saw him last night coming out of the Coccina brothel. Masked, but the same bony shoulders. Wasn’t he supposed to be reserved for the Church?’
‘So were you,’ Nicholas said. ‘So what were you doing in the district?’
‘Attending the Martinengo banquet. Where you were supposed to be. Nicholas, it’s the Corner reception tonight for Hadji Mehmet and the Persians. Half the Great Council are going, and the wretched Corner girl will receive. I refer to Catherine, the nominal Queen of the très haut et très illustre grand roi de Jerusalem, de Chypre et d’Arménie, your particular friend Zacco. It’s ordinary dress, with a mask and a cloak. Or at least, the best dress you’ve got. We’re all going.’
‘You mean you don’t want to discuss any more numbers,’ said Nicholas.
‘No, I don’t,’ Julius said. ‘If we’re not ready for Monday, we never shall be. All we have to do is decide what we’re going to offer. One last meeting.’
‘All right,’ Nicholas said. ‘I’ll come to the palazzo tonight if you’ll all present yourselves in my room tomorrow morning. One last meeting. And if you want to complain, complain to Tobie. I was going to do all this myself until he showed me how selfish that was.’
The reception given by Marco Corner and his wife Fiorenza, princess of Naxos, was – other than that of the Doge – the finest of all the entertainments offered in Venice during the span of the Carnival. The central figure was, of course, Catherine, Queen of Cyprus, their fourth child, released from her Paduan convent and done up in satin and pearls with a train. She was opulent, fair, and embossed under the paint with heavy spots. Their son George and the girl’s seven sisters attended her.
The food and wine were both lavish, and a stage had been erected in the courtyard upon which a play was performed, followed by music. The dancing continued for most of the night.
Nicholas went, and remained. Julius threw himself into every extravagance, while minding his manners. Tobie and John tended to sit side by side, displaying identical sinuous smiles above slackened shoulders. Gregorio, whom the days were making increasingly haggard, muttered something suddenly and went off during the mime. Anselm Adorne came and sat beside Nicholas. He slid the mask from his face. ‘Our Ambassadors appear to be enjoying themselves. You and I are not in accord, but there is no reason why we should ignore each another. I have to thank you for caring for Katelijne.’
‘The Clares did that,’ Nicholas said. His mask leered; his eyes remained cold.
Adorne spoke to the eyes. ‘I have no apology to make, I am afraid, over your divining. It is condemned by God, and a blasphemy. I do find it difficult, however, to pursue you into the courts about the other matter. Partly because of Dr Tobias, and partly because, being opposed to you in business, I should appear to be belatedly vindictive. I refer to my injury, and also to the wretchedness and expense to which you exposed us in Alexandria.’
‘I see,’ said Nicholas.
‘That is all you have to say?’ said Anselm Adorne.
‘To you, yes. I might say a little more to David de Salmeton,’ Nicholas said. ‘At the moment, it is not particularly