To Lie with Lions - Dorothy Dunnett [81]
The King’s lodgings were in David’s Tower and the men were still there, it appeared. To Margaret’s disgust, she was expected to join the ladies in the Queen’s parlour, where someone was singing and someone else was playing a spinet. Kathi was thankful to see Willie Roger, an expression of martyrdom on his face. He began to cross over to join her, but she was forced to sit between Margaret and the Queen. There were six or seven of her grace’s own attendants already there, most of them pretty young matrons and most of them in varying stages of pregnancy, which was why they had been selected.
As a very active small person herself, Katelijne Sersanders always felt depressed beside Margaret of Denmark, who possessed a pale clear Nordic face with plucked brows, and a pretty pink mouth, and white polished hands, and opulent shoulders half concealed by the round modest neck of her gown. She was given to hennins, perhaps because high veiled cones were less easy to shed than more approachable headgear. They were always bound with massive bands of great jewels, and she always looked as if her head ached. If it did, there were no compensations. According to Meg, the apothecary and Dr Andreas supplied the King with her dates every month.
Meg was going to give trouble. Expecting a grand occasion, she was discovering that there were no guests, no great lords; no one, in fact, but the present company, soon to be joined by the King and his brothers and by M. de Fleury, with whom they had been attending to business. From the subdued levity around her, Kathi judged that the business had been going on for some time, and was liquid in character. She engaged in stilted conversation with the Queen while watching the door. Will Roger went back to the spinet and played as if filling in time.
The Queen, catching something of the surrounding atmosphere, suddenly began to explain the delay. ‘All last night they talked business. These are great events. This will be a year the world will remember. You know my lord is to lead a Scottish army to France?’
She was as bad as the other Margaret. ‘My lady?’ said Kathi. ‘Perhaps this is not something to speak of in public’
‘These women have none but base tongues,’ the Queen said. ‘Messer Nicol is to make my lord a war leader. Like Alexander, King Arthur, Charlemagne.’
‘Ghengis Khan. Mehmet the Conqueror,’ Kathi said.
‘They are not Christian!’ said the Queen.
‘No, of course not. Your husband will be a great Christian warrior. M. de Fleury is arranging it?’
‘M. de Fleury will lead his own army. My lord the King will seize back his loyal Brittany, the land of his fathers!’
‘His aunt married the Duke,’ Kathi said.
‘He will take back Saintonge!’
‘Where?’ said Kathi.
‘He will become Duke of Guelders, his mother’s heritage!’
‘I thought the Duke of Burgundy had been promised the dukedom of … it doesn’t matter,’ said Kathi. ‘You mean he is going away? My lord your husband?’
‘Soon!’ said the Queen. ‘Messer Nicol is arranging it. As soon as they can build us some ships, and the Three Estates can vote us some money.’
‘When the apricots come,’ Kathi said. She didn’t translate it into Danish. She sat furiously sympathising with Gelis, tied to a man who did this. She was so angry that she missed the opening of the door when it came, and only when the music died did she turn her head and catch sight of the glimmer of white in the entrance. Then she saw that Mistress Clémence was being brought in, her hand steering a small boy in skirts.
The Queen jumped up. The Queen said, ‘I will bless no more children! Take it away!’ Her voice trembling, she had shouted in English. Below her, all the wired, nodding heads turned.
Kathi stood quickly too. She said, ‘It is the son of M. de Fleury, madame.