To Lie with Lions - Dorothy Dunnett [343]
He thought, afterwards, that her voice had sounded strained. He supposed his own had not been natural, either. So near, now.
The jousting, led by the Bastard Anthony, took place the following day in the marketplace before the guild church of St Gangolf. The gilt and paint on the tall houses sparkled, and their handsome mouldings and turrets and facings reflected the blare of trumpets and the rattle of drums and the roars of the banks of spectators. A battery of light guns occasionally banged. At noon all the churches added their muddled clangour: the measured beat of the Bürgerglocke, the chimes from the Church of Our Lady and the Cathedral. Astorre and his best men took part, and all the noblest seigneurs, including Anselm Adorne and the ablest Knights of the Golden Fleece, among them the Grand Bastard and Louis de Gruuthuse. Their shadows flickered back and forth along the west side of the marketplace: black on red walls; black across ranks of sunny faces, polished as apples, rapt and joyous.
The next day the princes disagreed, and were reconciled yet again. Two days later, the Emperor was entertained by the Duke, and the following day, the Duke was entertained by the Emperor. Nicholas went to see Jodi.
Gelis was absent, but Tobie was there, and Mistress Clémence. Poems were discussed, and the habits of pigeons, and the saddle was demonstrated. Tobie said, ‘What’s happening at the Palace?’
‘Stalemate,’ Nicholas said. ‘The Duke wants to be King of the Romans; Frederick is hesitant; the Duke has laid down his terms. No coronation, no daughter.’
‘He could get it,’ Tobie said, ‘if all seven Electors agreed. Couldn’t he?’
‘In theory,’ Nicholas said. ‘But even in theory, I’ve only got three of them bribed, and that isn’t enough. But I’m working on it.’
‘You’re joking,’ Tobie said.
‘Yes,’ said Nicholas.
November came. The sun shone. The beer began to run short, and the bread became black. Nicholas, who had not been entirely joking, cultivated the Prince Electors within reach, and Anna, who occasionally joined them for supper, commented on it.
‘I don’t think that even you, Nicholas, will manage to convert the Archbishop of Mayence. And two of the Duke’s greatest opponents are not here. Brandebourg and the Count Palatine are bound to vote against him.’
Recently, by permission of Julius, they had begun to use Christian names. Nicholas said, ‘You don’t think Fritz le Mauvais might have a change of heart? No. But it only needs one conversion to tip the balance. And of course, if the Emperor decides he wants Charles to be King of the Romans he will be, no matter what.’
‘In fact; but not for public consumption. And I don’t think he will. There is too much French being spoken in Trèves.’
‘Agents? Spies?’ He had heard nothing.
‘Gentlemen paid by King Louis. Or so I hear. The Emperor is afraid of a vassal as powerful as Duke Charles. To appoint him his deputy, his successor, is a big step. There are many persuasive arguments against it. The Emperor listens to these. He listens to astrologers. He is jealous of his inheritance. All his books bear the initials AEIOU – Austriae est imperare orbi universo. To Austria belongs the empire of the whole world.’
‘So he is fulfilling his Imperial Vowels. The Duke’s motto is Ainsi je frappe. I can see the difficulty. But of course, the Duke has no interest in temporal power. Rather, he sees himself as God’s secular vicar on earth, bringing peace to the Imperial garden.’
‘I thought you were in his employment,’ said Anna, amused.
‘That’s what Astorre keeps reminding me,’ Nicholas said. ‘But then, I’m in everyone’s employment at the moment.’
He saw nothing of Gelis, but a great deal of everyone else. Nothing moved; nothing budged. He forced himself to attend meals, and to watch what he drank, and to appear calm. He avoided Tobie.
The farce continued. During the first week in November, the Emperor decided to invest the Duke of Burgundy with the Duchy of Guelders and did so, enthroned on an open-air platform on the jousting-place in his crown and full regalia,