To Lie with Lions - Dorothy Dunnett [229]
Beside the King was his brother Sandy, suitably sobered and changed into jewel-buttoned velvet, as was Nicholas. Seated elsewhere in the room were my lord of Caithness, once Earl of Orkney, Lord Hamilton, and his own landlord, Semple of Elliotstoun. Among the King’s chamber men standing behind was Andro Wodman, Scottish Archer. The Queen was not present, nor was the King’s brother John, Earl of Mar. Nicholas made his required bows and waited, while the King examined him from the chair.
James, Third of the Name, would be twenty quite soon, and the months were firming his face and lining the over-dry skin, though he still sat on his cushion like a youth who preferred tilting or hunting to dealing with papers and numbers. Since the Play, his way of speaking to Nicholas had changed, but it was five weeks and more since they had met.
He said, ‘Master Nicholas of the Unicorn, we warn you to have regard for our nails. Every nail in this room has been counted.’ He then burst into laughter, politely echoed by the elders in the room, although Sandy, origin of the anecdote, merely grinned.
Nicholas said, ‘Sire, your nails are the Nails of Divinity, sacrosanct as those pinning Thor’s shrine. I bring you a gift, which I have left in the hands of your steward; and also news of a good venture.’
‘A gift?’ said the King, and waved to have it brought in. It was a pretty sight: white fox furs and swan feathers. It was of course designed to pass from the King to the Queen. Then that was over, and they let him sit down and relate the long tale of the voyage. He was good at it by now.
With James, the gift; then the story; then the business. The lords, aware of what was necessary, were patient as well. Only at the end did Nicholas describe his cargo, and William Sinclair sat up. ‘Fifteen hundred pounds’ worth of stockfish!’
‘Thanks to you, my lord. Without the dogger and yoles, it could not have been done in the time. The fish are already dried, and fit to travel anywhere. I have unloaded what was ordered at Leith, and the rest is already on its way.’
‘And you say there was no trouble?’ said James.
‘The Hanse ship was not, of course, happy with the situation, but I was able to arrange, I think, that there will be no complaint. It has returned to Bergen with a full cargo.’
‘And the other ships?’
‘The Baron Cortachy’s ship, the Unicorn, was somewhat resented by the Hanse and also by the Icelanders, but managed to escape, as you know, with a load of sulphur. I rather think,’ Nicholas said, ‘that an accommodation had been reached with the local officials, and in particular with the Bishop. I did not pursue it. One would not wish to offend the Church. I am not sure, however, if they would be welcome again.’
‘And the English were pirates and cannot complain. While you, of course, had our personal sanction in our capacity as a son of Denmark. That may now be ratified.’
‘My lord,’ agreed Nicholas humbly.
‘And the share of fish we agreed on be apportioned.’
‘My lord, it has been arranged already. Also, the ship will be yours as soon as she has delivered her cargo. I am honoured to think that she comes to you bearing a victory.’
‘Ah,’ said the King. He looked about. No one spoke. He said, ‘You are a Burgundian, but your Bank’s clients belong to no single country. You lease your army to Duke Charles, but it has done little that I have heard of. A whisper has reached me that you have been received at the French Court, and have even discussed a possible contract.’
‘I rarely listen to rumours, my lord King,’ Nicholas said. ‘But it is true that I try not to discriminate. You are speaking, perhaps, about Brittany?’
‘You have heard of our own glorious plans,’ said the King. He was flushed. ‘We have always hoped, as you know, to lead an army this summer to France to aid King Louis in taking back