The Unicorn Hunt - Dorothy Dunnett [59]
Nicholas de Fleury, whose entire bureau was now divided between Berecrofts and the Canongate, considered returning to Edinburgh for a space, and then reconsidered.
Socially, he had lost his light hold on the royal brothers and sisters, and would not readily make it up in a matter of days. Nor was he anxious, just yet, to risk meeting Simon in Edinburgh. On every other level of business, his Scottish transactions had continued without much interruption.
As for his overseas trade, transmission had slackened in winter, and any message that did come was brought him directly by Bonkle or Crackbene. Julius was now with him most of the time. As he expected, there had been no word from Gelis. There had been no word about her either: sick or well; dead or alive. If she were dead, he would hear. But if the weather closed in, he could be cut off from Edinburgh,
If the weather closed in, his ship might be late, or might sink, which would be … inconvenient. As it was, she was due any day, with her recondite cargo. And she was to come to the port of Blackness, not to Leith, for Nicholas wanted her near him, and Blackness was only four miles from Linlithgow. That, in the end, was why he stayed at Berecrofts. That, and because he knew the nature of the Scottish Court. He had devoted three months to studying it.
Julius had learned, now, that Nicholas was leaving in a few weeks for Flanders, without waiting for spring or Adorne’s company. Failing to argue him out of this plan, Julius proposed to come with him. Naturally, he and Nicholas would be back, having made such an investment in Scotland. Julius was not fool enough to believe that marriage counted for much to a rich man, or indeed any other, but accepted that Nicholas had to consult with Astorre, renew his status with the Duke, and review his dealings with Venice and Alexandria. By that time, his child born, Nicholas could make sure of the next, and return.
Nicholas de Fleury was familiar with all these opinions of Julius, as indeed he should be, having implanted them. Nicholas de Fleury waited, unsleeping, vigilant, drinking water, and was rewarded, after a fashion.
The Ghost arrived a week after Twelfth Night. Michael Crackbene, blue with cold, brought the news on horseback from Blackness, and reported that the carts had come, and she was already unloading. She was being revictualled at the same time, and soon the new freight would be in place.
‘Revictualled to leave? After three weeks’ hard sailing from Sluys?’ Julius exclaimed.
‘She’s watertight. I’m changing her crew. I know her,’ Crackbene said. ‘I know the sea in these parts as well.’
He gazed at Julius, whom he neither liked nor disliked. Julius, a natural opponent of tolerance, glared in return, then transferred his annoyance to the ship’s owner. ‘I thought you meant to sail on that ship.’
‘I did. I do,’ Nicholas said. ‘But it has to be now, apparently, because of the weather. I have only three days, Mick calculates, to get out of the estuary and turn south in safety. Otherwise I could be stuck here till spring.’
‘Then stay till spring,’ Julius said. ‘Astorre won’t rot; Gregorio loves being in charge; Cristoffels seems to be managing; the Mamelukes haven’t killed John so far as I know. You could drown getting to Bruges in this weather. Keep the Ghost at Blackness. Or send it back without you, if you’re so keen to turn over your profit. Crackbene’ll take her.’
Crackbene said nothing. That was why he had been hired. Julius, too, had been brought here for a purpose. One kept one’s temper with Julius, except when it was useful to lose it. And Julius had no suspicions. Julius would never imagine that, in the warmth of this room, anyone could be seized with such cold that he had to grip his hands together to still them.
Nicholas said, ‘When I want a lecture, I’ll ask for one. I’m sailing with Crackbene. As I’ve already told you, you can stay.’
‘Not unless you do,’ Julius said.