To Lie with Lions - Dorothy Dunnett [340]
‘That’s all right,’ Julius said. ‘That’s why you’re here. All you have to do is sweet-talk Frederick and the Electors into crowning the Duke. Ha, ha.’
‘I don’t mind him being rich,’ Astorre said, mopping up gravy. ‘He’s paying us.’
So began the Great Encounter, which was to dazzle the world with its jousts, its banquets, its pageantry for week after week through the whole of that strange, heated autumn.
The real events were less visible. The circumspect private meetings between the Holy Roman Emperor and the Grand Duke of the West remained private. The frequent hard-working meetings between the highest ministers of both parties were too passionate to escape notice entirely: rumour described the raised voices and the thumping of fists and the sudden departures, and occasionally reported that, listening to Hugonet, the Duke was inclined to pack his baggage and leave. But always, he relented.
Rumour also spoke of a third set of meetings, initiated by the Emperor on the command of the Pope. Nicholas knew about these, after coming face to face in an anteroom with Ludovico de Severi da Bologna, Patriarch of Antioch.
It was then the end of the first week of the conference, and Gelis had still not arrived. He had looked for her at the opening ceremony in the Abbey of St Maximin, at which the Archbishop of Mayence had exhorted the Duke to save Christendom from the maw of the pagan, while Calixtus Ottomanus sat picking his nose. The Chancellor Hugonet had replied with two hours of Latin oratory deploring the turpitude of Louis of France, who alone chained the Duke to his duchy. The Emperor, placed under a tapestry of Alexander the Great, had been clad in crimson and gold, and his son’s long yellow hair rippled over a grand robe of red and green damask. The general impression was rich, but not smart.
Leaving afterwards, Nicholas had crossed the Abbey courtyard with Julius and his lady wife Anna. It was full of friends and spectators from the guest-lodgings.
Anna said, ‘She isn’t here yet, Lord Beltrees. I had someone ask. But I believe another friend has arrived. Anselm Adorne is a well-disposed man who, I think, would be glad if you made peace with his son.’
He had been transparent, it seemed. There was no reason, however, why he shouldn’t see Jan Adorne, despite their disagreement at the White Bear Society. Since then, Nicholas had met the young man’s father when passing through Bruges, and noted the changes that a year as a widower had brought. Anselm Adorne still carried the weight of that death, but his eyes were clear again, and he looked, if anything, younger. Now, coming to the door of his lodging, he smiled at Nicholas as he ushered in Julius and his wife. Jan hung back, his cheeks flushed against the severe black of his cap and his-gown. Anna greeted his father, and then walked at once to the young man and spoke frankly.
‘I’ve brought Julius to apologise about Rome. Will you forgive us? That silly boy Nerio bewitches everyone, and truly, Julius was looking for me, and not Zoe. You probably still think he deserves someone like Zoe, but I am not proposing to agree with you there. He is a very kind husband, when he stops to exercise his wits.’
Her smile, tentative, appealing, sought for a response, and received it. ‘It was a long time ago,’ the Cardinal’s secretary said, with uncertain echoes of his father’s style in his voice. ‘I have forgotten it. And I cannot grudge him the charming lady wife he now has.’ And when Nicholas, smiling a little, offered his hand, Jan flushed deeper, and took it.
Later, when the day and their talk had advanced, Anselm Adorne spoke, his eyes on the couple, to Nicholas. ‘I cannot grudge Julius, either, this beautiful paragon, but it poses a mystery. How he find such a lady, and persuade her to marry him?’
‘I don’t know. She wanted half a ship,’ Nicholas said. They had talked of nothing of consequence, because his mind was empty of everything of consequence. Nothing had