To Lie With Lions: The Sixth Book of the House of Niccolo

by Dorothy Dunnett

  ‘You had heard. You knew that Henry de St Pol had been sent to the household at Veere. You knew that my son was at Antwerp. You knew that I was absent. And you did nothing about it, so that your sister not only went to Veere, she allowed Wolfaert’s wife to bring my son there. Yesterday. Friday. Yesterday, without mother, father or nurse, Jordan and Henry were together at Veere.’

  ‘Robin was with him,’ said Gelis. ‘Robin and Pasque.’ Moriz had brought her. She stood in the doorway, her hair rough on her robe, her face ghastly. There were others behind her, one of them Julius. She said, ‘Nicholas?’ Then her gaze fell on the boy.

  ‘So if Tilde and Diniz helped it to happen,’ Nicholas said, ‘what about Jordan’s mother? Pasque, you say. Do I remember appointing Pasque as senior nurse to my son? She cleans the floors well, it is true, but cannot really be expected to prevent the lady of Veere from walking all over them. Mistress Clémence is the senior nurse. Where is she?’

  ‘What has happened?’ said Gelis.

  ‘… Or do I know? Looking after the motherless infants of Anselm Adorne. I sympathise. But Anselm Adorne has many children, and you and I had only one. Still, perhaps you were right. One should be magnanimous. Jordan’s mother, unlike theirs, was alive and could care for him. Except – how extraordinary! – Jordan’s mother left Antwerp as well.’

  Tell me. Tell me,’ said Gelis. ‘Where is Jordan?’

  ‘You have to ask me?’ Nicholas said. ‘I have been in Arras: how should I know? You mentioned Robin; but Robin is fifteen and quite as overawed as Pasque when a great lady breaks all the rules.’

  ‘Robin didn’t know,’ said Gelis flatly. ‘Robin didn’t know of the danger. I did. It is my fault. It is all my fault, whatever has happened. Nicholas, have pity. Is he dead?’

  Father Moriz said, ‘Let him answer that question alone. None of us has a right to hear it. Come. Let us go.’

  ‘No!’ The scream of the boy stopped them all. ‘No! Don’t go! He will kill me!’

  The eyes of Jordan’s parents had locked. Nicholas said, ‘He will never forget what has happened. He is alive.’

  She stared at him, her eyes blank. The boy, throwing himself at her feet, clung to her gown. ‘Help me. Help me. He will tell you terrible things.’

  Slowly, Gelis looked down. ‘Did you harm Jordan?’

  Exposed to the light was the profile of a white and gold angel. Then it turned, showing the closed eye, the thickened lips, the gross swelling, black, red and blue. Henry whispered, ‘I couldn’t do it, what Robin does. I couldn’t. I couldn’t. And when he makes nie, I bleed.’

  Gelis pulled her skirts away. The boy subsided, his face running with tears. Nicholas said, ‘Is that what you told the men-at-arms? Henry, why did I strike you?’

  The boy sobbed. He said, ‘Because I wouldn’t – wouldn’t stay in your bed.’

  ‘But, Henry, you and I had our quarrel in public,’ Nicholas said. ‘A dozen people were there, including the lord Wolfaert of Veere. They would say that your tale was a lie. They would say you were punished because you had secretly attempted to murder your cousin, forcing him to run to his death.’

  ‘It isn’t true!’ Henry said. ‘He was running from you. I didn’t want him to bleed. I was saving him.’

  Someone made an odd noise: probably Julius. Father Moriz wore a look of disgust, and Diniz had put his arm around Tilde, his grip convulsively tight, his face wretched. Gelis, pallid as a Venetian mask, looked first at the boy, then at Nicholas. Then she bent, and took the boy by the ear and pulled him up. He stopped crying.

  She said, ‘My dear Henry, that is one accusation that will never stick. Truth apart, the lord of Veere will see that it doesn’t. Which is the side of your face that doesn’t hurt yet? Because if you wait, I, too, am going to present you with a mark of my feelings for you.’

  She had actually lifted her hand when the boy tore free and made for the door. There, someone caught and removed him. Nicholas concentrated on Gelis. He said, ‘Thank you. I always hoped to be credited with my preferred vices, at least. So why did you decide to leave Jodi? He asked for you, by the way, between screams.’

  The group at the door had dissolved. Now Father Moriz, stretching his hand, drew Tilde and Diniz out of the room and, shutting the door, stood inside. He said, ‘Stop, Nicholas. You are not yourself. Go to your child, both of you. So long as he is safe, nothing else matters. You have, I am afraid, found the miscreant.’

  ‘Where is Jodi? Is he downstairs?’ Gelis asked.

  Nicholas slammed his palms on the back of a chair. ‘My God, do you think I would bring him here? He is in Antwerp, and will stay there. As soon as Mistress Clémence returns, Pasque will receive her wages and go. Robin will be sent back to Scotland. The guard has already been doubled. What sort of mother are you?’

  ‘You left him alone?’ Gelis said. ‘After all that, you left him alone in order to come here with Henry?’

  The priest said, ‘Catherine de Charetty is also with him, and Paul. The men downstairs told me.’

  There was a porcelain vase on the table. It was Indian, and had been in the old house as well. Nicholas detached a hand and, lifting it, hurled it with a crash on the floor. ‘I asked you a question.’

  She looked up, her eyes wide with shock. ‘You didn’t care about Henry. You left Jordan because you wanted to do this to me. What sort of father are you?’

  ‘To do what to you?’ Nicholas said. ‘Ask you questions you are ashamed to answer?’ He lifted a glass flask and balanced it.

  ‘I’m not ashamed. I was asked to meet Julius and his client. You were away. She owns half the Fleury.’

  ‘The monumental Gräfin,’ Nicholas said. He lifted the glass vase and smashed it straight down. The fragments flew everywhere. ‘You were avid to meet her. Didn’t you know that Charlotte, that stupid woman, wanted your nurses? She didn’t care what happened to Jodi. Jodi thought Henry was chasing for fun. Henry pushed him like a ball, striking him further and further. The last shot of all was aimed to kill, at his head. But he fell.’ He moved about, touching one thing after another. He saw a casket of Marian’s.

  Gelis said, ‘You were away. You could have given Jodi these two weeks at least. I’m sorry, but Father Moriz is right. We’ll talk when you are sober.’

  ‘It is your fault,’ Nicholas said. He held the casket, and thought of Marian, and opened his hands in spite of it all. It fell, and Gelis cried out.

  He said, ‘It is your fault that Henry thinks that your son is Simon’s. That is why he is trying to kill him.’

  ‘And what about you?’ Gelis said. ‘Why did you come here with Henry, instead of staying with Jordan who needed you? Why have you dashed to abuse me, except to hide from yourself what has really happened? What you can’t bear. What you want to punish me for. But it isn’t my fault, is it, what has happened to Henry? It isn’t my fault that –’

  ‘Stop,’ said Nicholas. He found he had stepped across and was holding her hard, one hand over her mouth. Glass crunched under his feet. Her eyes, Nordic-blue, stared into his, exploring them, puzzled.

  Father Moriz shouldered between them, breathing hard. He said, ‘Gelis, get out.’

  She pulled her head free, and Nicholas let his hand drop. ‘We haven’t finished,’ she said.

  ‘You have,’ said the priest grimly. ‘Stand back.’

  Nicholas stood back. The fury, evaporating, left a white haze. The door opened as Father Moriz walked to it, holding Gelis. Mistress Clémence stood there, with another woman. Mistress Clémence curtseyed to Gelis and the priest and looked across to where Nicholas stood. She said, ‘I am free to go whenever you want me, my lady.’ She paused and said, ‘I have to tell you that Master de St Pol is asleep and well guarded, and has been seen by a doctor. Also that …’ She hesitated, glancing behind.

  The other woman said, ‘Also that his tale of abuse was untrue. He is untouched and whole, apart from some well-deserved bruises.’ She appeared to smile at the priest. She sai
d, ‘Clémence will see to the lady Gelis.’

  Gelis went out, with Mistress Clémence and Moriz. The sun silvered the glass on the floor, making rainbows. Regnbogi Nikudr. The same woman’s voice said, ‘When did you last eat?’

  He tried to focus. A youngish woman, with the dark hair and bright complexion of the Irish, such as you found sometimes in Iceland, or Spain, or the Western Isles. Her eyes were like violets. He smelled her scent, and heard the sound of her faint, exact breathing.

  She said, ‘I have had a tray put in your room, and a bed made up. Come. I will show you.’

  She left him at the door.

  When he woke, he had slept the day through, and it was evening. His head was heavy from the long sleep, but he felt better, and competent. When he appeared, no one expressed surprise. They treated him, he thought, as if he had been ill. He said, ‘Where is Mistress Clémence?’

  Gelis said, ‘I thought you would want her to go back to Antwerp. She is on her way now. The boy Henry is still asleep.’

  ‘I see,’ Nicholas said. The priest sat, saying nothing. Diniz gave him some wine, which he didn’t want, and pressed his shoulder lightly in passing. Diniz, he remembered, knew a great deal too much. Someone had cleared up the glass.

  Tilde, who had not brought in her baby, was preparing to say something. Nicholas forestalled her. ‘I’m glad Clémence is going, but of course Catherine will have been a great help. I’m sorry, Tilde. I’m sure, but for her, it would have been worse.’

  ‘And but for Robin,’ the priest remarked. ‘It is your affair, of course. But Robin was ignorant, too, of the dangers. Have you even heard his side of the story? Whatever it was, he has already proved his loyalty and his courage ten times over this year, and you are a fool to forget it.’

  Nicholas remembered, with difficulty, having made some arbitrary decisions about the future of Robin and Pasque. He recalled very clearly some of the things Gelis had said. She had regained her tranquillity this evening, and her hair had been dressed with meticulous care. He said, ‘I think I should probably cancel everything I said this morning and start over again. In any case, I have to ask your forbearance, all of you. I can’t give any more time to the business or to my family. I have to go straight back to the Duke.’

  ‘War?’ Julius said. His voice lilted. Nicholas saw, clear-eyed now, the changes of the last year: the sleekness that Rome and Cologne had wrought in him. Or, of course, other things.

  ‘Yes,’ Nicholas said. ‘You don’t want to come?’

  ‘I’d cede my place,’ Moriz said. ‘I have had my fill of John and his guns for a while. Do you have to go?’

  ‘I have a contract,’ Nicholas said. ‘The business depends on good faith. It will be over in four months or five, and then we can arrange for the winter in Scotland.’

  ‘The barony?’ Julius said, with friendly insolence. ‘You can manage your business from there?’

  ‘I don’t expect to indefinitely,’ Nicholas said. ‘And meantime, I have you and Diniz and Moriz and Gregorio, not to mention those who do the actual work. I can get to Bruges in two weeks, and Venice in six if you make a mess of it. We’ll talk after supper.’

  ‘You have something else to talk of,’ said Moriz. ‘The boy.’

  ‘That foul-mouthed little blackguard?’ said Julius. ‘Lock him in the Steen and get rid of the key. Or he really will kill someone one day.’

  ‘Will that help?’ Moriz said. ‘His father might be even more dangerous.’

  ‘Send him to Simon,’ said Diniz.

  Gelis glanced at him. The others showed no surprise at his curtness. Diniz and Simon de St Pol were related; but not even kinship could make Diniz excuse the boy Henry.

  Gelis said, ‘Simon has left Madeira, it seems. If you free Henry, they might both go to Scotland.’

  Julius had walked to the door, apparently hearing a step. He said, ‘If they do, I think the kindest thing you could do, Nicholas, is to find some baronial reason for hanging them. My lady?’ Opening the door, he was ushering somebody in. He said, ‘Nicholas? Have you met the Gräfin Anna von Hanseyck?’

  No monumental countess appeared; merely the violet-eyed apparition of the morning, with her dusky hair bound up in voile. She smiled. She said, ‘You don’t remember. You were asleep on your feet. How do you do?’

  ‘Better than I did this morning, thanks to you,’ Nicholas said with extreme smoothness. He wondered how on earth Jan had made such a mistake. He wondered how on earth Julius had met her. He knew Gelis was watching.

  Julius said, ‘We were talking about what to do with the monster. What do you think?’

  She walked across and sat beside Gelis. Her gown of fine taffeta was cut plain as a child’s. Gelis had met her, of course, in Cologne. Gelis could have corrected Jan’s mistake, if she had heard it. The Gräfin Anna said, ‘What do I think? That we should none of us waste our time guessing. Lord Beltrees has decided already.’

  ‘Nicholas,’ Julius corrected her, smiling.

  ‘We do not know each other well enough,’ the Gräfin said; and Nicholas did not contradict her, for he disliked the free use of his name. Her French, though inflected, was well managed.

  He said, ‘Yes, I have decided what to do about Henry. There is nothing you need to arrange. I shall be taking him with me tomorrow.’

  His eyes were on Gelis. She said, ‘Where?’

  ‘To my camp,’ Nicholas said. ‘He has been taught the arrogance of a knight. Now he ought to practise the knock-about life of a soldier.’

  Moriz got to his feet. ‘Are you serious? A boy of eleven, made to live with a mercenary company at war! Is this your punishment?’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ Nicholas said.

  ‘Well, I must say,’ said Julius in astonishment, ‘I’d rather like to see that. My God, he would get his deserts. From the other men, if not from the enemy. Mind you, if he survives –’

  ‘If he survives, he will turn into a professional thug,’ Gelis said. ‘And whether he survives or not, Simon will come for you. What are you thinking of?’

  ‘Jordan,’ Nicholas said. It silenced her, for the moment.

  ‘But also the boy?’ said the Gräfin beside her. ‘Forgive me: my child is a daughter, but spirited. She may become wilful one day, but will always follow a noble example. This boy has been unwisely reared. He may find a new inspiration.’

  ‘It is too late,’ Gelis said. ‘The bond is too strong. Simon depends on him. It will not make Jordan safer.’

  ‘Then, failing the army, Henry must be dealt with by the law,’ Nicholas said. ‘Perhaps you are right. Simon can pick a fight with the magistrates, not with me. Will you take him to the Steen, or shall I?’ He did not look at Diniz, who had been silent since his single remark.

  She gave in, as he expected: the army was preferable to disgrace. They all agreed, with reluctance. It was just as well, since Nicholas had already visited Henry and, locking the door, had told him where he was going.

  Alone through the day, the boy had had time to review, perhaps, what he had done; and to worry about what might now happen to him. A grown man would have done so, and a grown man might have lounged before him like this, insolence on his damaged face, concealing his fears. Nicholas saw that Henry’s supreme confidence was not assumed. Whoever had dared to touch him would soon answer for it to his family The fact that the van Borselen side of his family had rejected him seemed to count not at all. Henry had never thought much of a mother who had died when he was three.

  So when Nicholas, perched by the door, twirled the key and told him what was to happen, the smile left the boy’s face. For a moment his lips opened, then he stood.

  ‘Oh no,’ Henry said. ‘Oh no, you stupid animal, you can’t get away with that. I demand to see a magistrate.’

  ‘They’re all busy,’ Nicholas said.

  ‘You won’t? Then I’ll shout,’ Henry said. He walked to the window and opened it. He said, ‘You really shouldn’t have locked the door before you walked in to rap
e me. I want to be kept safe until my father comes.’

  ‘I said you’d say that,’ Nicholas said. ‘Actually, they’re all waiting down in the yard hoping you’ll favour them with some technical language. Really, away from the wharfs, I’ve seldom met anyone so obsessed with the business of reproduction. One wonders what your home life is like. In any case, as you surely must know, a doctor has already reported you to be in a state of infantile purity.’

  ‘Some liar paid by you,’ Henry said.

  ‘I couldn’t afford him. Dr Andreas is, among other things, a household physician to King James of Scotland. No one,’ Nicholas said, ‘is going to tolerate any more of this conduct. You attempted to kill a young child. You should hang for it. Be thankful that today I am feeling more lenient.’

  ‘It’s an excuse,’ Henry said. ‘You could never touch me if my father were here. You’re a coward. You’re a traitor as well. You’re going to force me to fight against Scotland’s allies, and whatever happens to me, you’ll say it wasn’t your fault.’

  ‘You’d rather hang?’ Nicholas said. ‘I can arrange it.’

  ‘You can’t!’

  ‘Would you like to place a small wager?’

  The boy stared at him. Nicholas gazed back, holding in his mind the sound of the ball and the club, and the screaming. He said, ‘In any case, I didn’t say I was sending you. I am going with you. You will enjoy that.’

  He watched the boy’s eyes, and the gleam that came into them. The boy said, ‘I might.’

  ‘On the other hand, I might make sure that you don’t. That depends on you. We leave in the morning.’ He rose and paused. ‘Don’t you think it a pity that this had to happen?’

  ‘Yes. I should have killed him,’ said the boy.

  Nicholas de Fleury rode off to Arras next morning, Julius beside him, and did not have to bind the boy Henry’s mouth, for it remained set and closed. He said goodbye to the others in public, and to Gelis in private so that his household might retain their illusions. He thought he had secured, with her, the protection of Jordan. He was removing the worst of the danger. And if Simon set foot in Bruges or in Brabant, he would know, for he had returned to his divining, understanding as he now did that it was to be his master for life. He did not kiss his wife because, this time, no one was watching.