To Lie with Lions - Dorothy Dunnett [334]
‘What?’ Nicholas said. After a moment he said, irrelevantly, ‘He can’t do it: it’s mine.’ In fact it was the King’s, but the King hadn’t paid for it yet. Disbelief filled him, followed by outrage. Oblivious, Julius was continuing.
‘You’ll get a fee. You’ll get a double fee. You’ll get a triple fee, because the Duke insists that you yourself direct the company. It’s an order. He wants to hand a complete team of players to Frederick. You’re his gift to the Emperor,’ Julius explained. ‘So that the Emperor can contribute to the festivities. I don’t suppose they have entertainers in Vienna, apart from a few German clowns and a juggler. And Duke Charles can spare you. He’s still got all the artists who worked under Tête Bottée Commynes for the Wedding.’
‘Commynes has gone,’ Nicholas said.
‘Well, he wasn’t the only one, was he? Anselm Adorne will direct this time.’
Tobie said, ‘What’s the matter? People are watching. Stop screaming.’
Nicholas said, ‘I shall scream if I like. So will you, when you hear this.’
At the time, he didn’t even pause to consider how the Duke knew so much about the Play. Certainly, he knew less than nothing about its significance. Nicholas perceived the Duke’s attempt to appropriate him personally simply as a miscalculation; and not an intentional insult. It was something that could be corrected by a few words with Chancellor Hugonet. He said as much to Julius and Tobie that night, sitting alone with them in the tavern. Julius had been astonished and puzzled.
‘It can lead to great things. Look what it did for you in Scotland. You’ll have the Emperor’s goodwill as well as that of Duke Charles.’ And, when Nicholas still appeared unconvinced, Julius had become genuinely heated. ‘Why not? If Adorne doesn’t think it beneath him, why in God’s name should you?’
‘Sloth and other vanities,’ Nicholas said. ‘I have no ambition. I shall go to Luxembourg and tell his noble and mighty lordship myself. You can come with me. The Flight from Egypt can remain until they hear from us.’
Julius said, ‘You aren’t serious? Tobie, persuade him.’
‘I’m staying,’ said Tobie. ‘If he’s going to castrate himself, I’d as soon not be present. Let him go on his own.’
But of course, Julius would never do that. They left for Luxembourg the following day, two men and a bodyguard riding fast for the Imperial duchy on its river-girt pinnacle where Charles, Duke of Burgundy, was gathering his resources for the lavish ceremonial and hard talking that would, he hoped, make him a king.
The Duke received him in audience, but it was William Hugonet who induced Nicholas to reconsider his decision. The meeting was private, in the Chancellor’s rooms in the towers of the Castle of Luxembourg, with the sluggish waters crawling below in the heat.
It had already struck Nicholas that he might have been hasty. He was being summoned to prepare court diversions, that was true. But he was to prepare them for Frederick, from whom Duke Charles wished a great favour. He, a Burgundian and a banker, was being placed at the Emperor’s side during a series of talks which would determine the union by marriage of two immense powers; which offered Duke Charles the chance to become King of Burgundy, King of the Romans and, perhaps, eventually, Holy Roman Emperor himself.
For days, for weeks perhaps, Nicholas would have a foot in both mighty courts. He had begun to guess why. Now Hugonet confirmed it. A tired, busy man with all the weight of the Duke’s deficiencies on his shoulders, the Chancellor made clear what Nicholas de Fleury was being requested to do. He was to join the Emperor’s court, when it arrived. He was to urge the Duke’s case when he could. He was to listen. And he was to report.
And that, he could agree to.
Nothing happened at once. It was the third week of September before the Emperor, at Mayence, sent to invite the Duke of Burgundy to his congress of princes.