To Lie with Lions - Dorothy Dunnett [238]
Soon after that, the party broke up. Nicholas, setting off to walk down the short slope with Diniz, was stopped by Anselm Sersanders, expansive in drink. ‘You haven’t seen Kathi.’
Adorne and his son had gone home. He didn’t want to see Jan again. The moon was up, and it was a long way to the Jerusalemkirk. Nicholas said, ‘Anselm, I love you and her and the bear, but not tonight. And I’m going to Antwerp tomorrow.’
‘Then come tomorrow, before you set out.’ Sersanders paused. ‘I heard how you found me and Sigfús. I heard how you set out to find Robin. I don’t agree with the Church.’
‘They have to be careful,’ said Nicholas. ‘It’s all right, I’m not going to beat up Jan Adorne, although I’ll wring Nerio’s neck if I ever meet him. Tell Kathi I’ll come early tomorrow, and you both ought to be proud of your bear.’
It was easy to say. When the moment came to leave for the Hôtel Jerusalem the following morning, he stood in the stables doing nothing, until stirred by the mock-annoyance of Diniz.
Guds frida veri med ydr: the peace of God be upon you. He had not been alone with the girl since those words were spoken, in the thundering dark, with the doom-fire of the gods in the clouds. Until last night, he had pushed aside all he knew of that tongue, as he had buried the language of Umar.
This girl was not Umar. The situation was not at all of that kind, except in so far as it was a relationship, disembodied as that of the mistletoe, which found its nourishment in strange, diverse places: in the excitement of danger; in the marriage of music and words; in understanding allied with compassion. Until now, he had not fully realised how privileged he had been, knowing Katelijne Sersanders.
Since Iceland, her illness had kept them apart. At Leith, she had been swept off by Father Moriz and Archie of Berecrofts, and after that the nuns had not allowed her visitors, not even when, grudgingly, they had allowed her to sail off to Bruges.
There were nuns, too, at the Hôtel Jerusalem, but when Katelijne spoke to them mildly, they left him alone with her in Adorne’s parlour. He had been there many times in the past: sometimes with Marian; sometimes as a boy about to be condemned to a night, in the Steen, or a thrashing. Adorne had been lenient, on the whole, for a magistrate.
His niece was brown-haired, not fair, and smaller than you would expect of the family. Her slightness made her almost invisible, as did her dark high-revered gown, and the black veil that covered her cap. He thought of Sersanders’s portly white shirt in the geysir. She said, ‘Do we shake hands? I am sad, but not dying. Ey, Nicholas.’
‘I liked Banco,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry about Mistress Margriet. I’m sorrier than you know. I heard you got back in time, and I’m glad.’
‘So was I. She liked you,’ she said. ‘Anyway, you had nothing to do with her death. She knew the risk. She wanted that child. They sang Willie’s Nativity music at her funeral.’ She stopped and said, ‘You don’t need to talk about that. Won’t you sit?’
He found a seat, since she did. He said, ‘I mustn’t stay long.’
‘You are going to Antwerp with Diniz. Sersanders told me. What do you think of the bear?’
‘He went back for it. He is an idiot. So are you.’
‘He wanted Uncle to have it, in case the sulphur didn’t arrive. He knows you saved his life. He is truly grateful.’
‘It’s all right,’ Nicholas said. ‘I’ve already told him. I won’t lambast Jan, or not while he’s in Bruges.’
‘Oh dear,’ Kathi said. ‘Do you know the Bishop of St Andrews?’
‘Not well enough to re-educate him,’ Nicholas said. ‘What is the main trouble? Money?’
‘A bit. He holds too many benefices and can’t pay for them. And there’s Coldingham, too. I know,’ said Kathi, looking cross, ‘that Willie Roger aches for his Chapel Royal choir, but it would be a great boon to Jan and the Bishop if the King would change his mind and not suppress the Priory and give Willie quite so many tenors and altos. It’s been a very fine religious establishment. Dr Andreas says their school was so good that foreign colleges