To Lie with Lions - Dorothy Dunnett [279]
Nicholas said, ‘I think you had better come with me to Scotland. See me later.’
He watched the boy glance at the doctor, and then bow slightly and leave. He was a good lad. Archie ought to be proud. Nicholas withdrew his eyes and turned to Tobie.
‘When did they go, Gelis and Jordan?’
‘Three weeks ago,’ Tobie said.
‘So now we can guess why this happened.’
‘To stop you from going to Scotland? Nonsense. De Ribérac couldn’t have known. He had plenty of other good reasons for crippling you.’
‘No. He knew,’ Nicholas said. ‘She will be in Scotland by now.’
‘You meant to take her back there in any case,’ Tobie said. ‘You must have been sure you could protect them. She will be in Edinburgh. Simon will be in Kilmirren. Gelis will take proper precautions. She will do all you would have done.’
‘I know,’ Nicholas said.
‘So what is it?’ said Tobie. ‘That she went? Is that it? That she thinks she can force you to follow? Well, she’s wrong, isn’t she? Fate took a hand there, and you can’t.’
‘But then Fate brought you here, and I can.’
Tobie’s eyes, when he faced opposition, had always seemed to become rounder and paler, while their pupils concentrated, sharp as two pins. Nicholas looked into them now, and despite his own desperation, surprised in himself a wave of relief. It came from physical weakness, and would not last. He was alone. Everyone was.
Tobie said, ‘No, you can’t,’ as he expected.
Nicholas said, ‘Then I’ll get Robin to take me. You can come later. Do you want to come later? You probably don’t.’
‘I don’t. Why did Godscalc forbid you to go back to Scotland?’
‘For two years, that was all. I stayed away for two years,’ Nicholas said. He had forgotten that Tobie knew that.
‘And he would want you to go back now? Other things being equal?’
Other things aren’t equal,’ Nicholas said. ‘Simon and his father are a threat to Gelis and Jordan.’
‘And to you.’
‘That is their belief. Let them hold it while they can.’
Tobie said, ‘That is really why you are going back? To destroy the St Pols, because of what they did, are still doing to you? And then what?’
‘Who knows?’ Nicholas said. ‘Come to Scotland if you want to find out. I shall be there for the winter. I don’t expect to be there ever again. I aspire to an Imperial destiny.’
Tobie went. Nicholas lay, subduing his anger and fear and, in growing calm, was able to assemble and contemplate, once again, the finely geared instrument he had spent so long designing, now running its course.
Soon, the portion dealing with France would find itself losing momentum and would begin to wind down and cease, once the vicomte had succumbed.
The Tyrol had completed its initial part in the plan, and was about to contribute more. One could not be sorry for Sigismond, and his Duchess had played throughout with her eyes open. He was supposed to take account of what she had done for him in the past, and he would.
He had bought indemnity from the Signoria and would not take part in the Venetian Crusade; he meant to crush the Vatachino in Europe, and if the price was the loss of his gold, he was willing to pay it. He had promised Bessarion nothing.
Adorne could look after himself. So could Cyprus. Godscalc Protector of Bridges was dead; Bessarion dying. He could not be every man’s conscience.
He could not foresee the future, or not so far as he knew. But his guess, his informed guess was that the supreme power in Europe would fall to Burgundy and its new empire, of which the Bank would be part. Fleury would be Burgundian. And next year, the business of Scotland would be over, and he would take Gelis aside and say, ‘This is what lies ahead. Now, have we not come to the end?’
In that mood, he could forget the dawn over Sinai; Jordan screaming at Veere; the white death in Iceland; the miscalculation – the naïve miscalculation which had led to what had happened by the Loire, coupled with the headstrong flight of Gelis, with all its possible consequences.
Tobie had been right. He had been angry because she had forced him to follow. She would be in the