To Lie with Lions - Dorothy Dunnett [147]
‘I think I have stamped it out,’ Roger said.
Adorne straightened. ‘Surely not. You wanted him, and so did I, to recognise what talents he has and put them to use. Now the world knows he can do it.’
‘They will forget,’ Roger said. ‘A play, a piece of music are soon wafted away. They will not hold him to it, and he will not listen to me again, or to you. I wanted him to do something well, but I forgot, idiot that I am, what theatre teaches. It teaches power.’
‘Is that bad?’ Adorne said.
Will Roger looked at him. He said, ‘When I train my musicians, my choir, I have absolute power for a short time. For me, that’s enough. In military life, a man learns as he rises, from humble lanceknight to captain, from captain to Constable. But in business? The patron of a company exerts power, but not over a clamouring crowd: his men are scattered, he reaches them scribe to scribe, person to person.’
‘You are saying that the experience of mass command was a shock? Was too much? Was something he would be afraid of applying to other parts of his life?’
‘I don’t know,’ the musician said. ‘If I were God, I’d kiss that man and offer him pardon, provided he produced plays such as that through eternity. As it is, he has gone back to his worm-cast. He has returned to his petty affairs as if it never happened.’
He spoke as if it were a matter of personal grievance, but there was another emotion beneath. Adorne said, ‘It is lonely, the life of a leader. The herd offers companionship.’
Will Roger looked up. ‘What herd will he fit into now? Whatever he does, he is isolated by his own gifts. If he doesn’t put them to use, he’s in limbo.’
There was a silence. Adorne wondered, in a detached way, if Roger thought he was drawing an analogy: if he conceived that Adorne’s own career – ducal adviser, burgomaster, royal envoy – in any way resembled that of a dyeyard apprentice. Then he realised he was being ridiculous, and smiled. He said, ‘You think he has failed to take the chance that you offered him – that we all offered him. But he can never be quite the same. And because of you, a great thing has been done.’
‘It has been done by a cripple,’ said Roger.
Last of all, just before Gelis left for the west, she learned from Archie of Berecrofts that Nicholas had come to visit him.
Since they possessed adjoining houses, this was not unusual. It seemed, however, that Nicholas had had no particular purpose, except that of commending young Robin, and of obtaining Archie’s consent to remove the boy for a little from Edinburgh. When asked where he was going, Nicholas had referred vaguely to Moriz, who had established some promising ventures on the Fife and Lothian coasts.
It had always been Gelis’s plan to survey her husband’s new castle of Beltrees; especially since Nicholas had so markedly omitted to take her there. She waited. Through her work on the Play, she had become well acquainted with their Renfrewshire factor. As soon as Nicholas proved indeed to have left for the east, Gelis arranged to ride in the opposite direction with Master Oliver Semple. Prudently, she took Jordan with her, and Mistress Clémence and Pasque to attend him. It was cold, but her thoughts and her plans were most cheering, and Jodi liked horses. In any case it would not be very long, she suspected, before his father rejoined them.
She forgot, because it seemed to have no present relevance, the conversation Nicholas had once begun about Jordan’s future. She enjoyed good health herself, and Nicholas displayed all his usual energy. His final visit to Jordan had been if anything over-exuberant, although against custom he had brought the child something to play with, and had extracted a promise to do with a lengthy poem he wished to hear on returning. The poem would take some weeks to memorise, which he might or might not have guessed. Mistress Clémence at least would take the hint; and the child seemed undisturbed by the imminent parting. His father had vanished on business before, and come back. Equally, since Nicholas had chosen to leave, Gelis saw