Gemini (98 page)

W
HEN NICHOLAS LEFT
home that day, and those that followed, Gelis had no need to ask where she would find him. Now that the orderly fuses were lit and the actors were charged with their tasks, nothing was left to the architects of the nation’s affairs but to assemble with their servants, their clerks and their couriers in the Tolbooth, that strong irregular building, parliament hall, court and prison, next to the church of St Giles in the High Street, which had become the unofficial council chamber of Scotland. Now the hired rooms were empty of hucksters: the cells had become offices serving those larger spaces which acted as meeting halls, or refectories, or even emergency dormitories. The merchants who entered these rooms were the chosen representatives of their burgh and community, members of the grim and anxious consortium of able men now awaiting news of the events they had caused to unfold.

Outside, on the crown of the hill, the Castle remained sealed; its drawbridge up; its walls manned by the men of John Stewart of Darnley and Atholl. No one threatened to enter, but the empty, uneven slope attracted the curious, who came and stood in small groups, debating anxiously, or occasionally shouting daring obscenities. There was no sign that they had been heard; but after the first day, Avandale set a light guard on the hill, to discourage unseemly conduct.

On the Thursday after Nicholas came back from Coldingham, a rich cavalcade left the town and rode east, picking up an armed force from Haddington as it went. It returned the next day, preceded by a fast-riding courier who burst through the gates of the Netherbow and spurred up the steep, winding hill to the Tolbooth. The resulting conference at the Tolbooth stayed in session until dusk, when men began to emerge, and their torchbearers leaped up to claim them, from the drift of dark, chattering
figures waiting in the warm August air. Nicholas, calling good night to Tom Yare, made a decision and walked not to his home but to the High Street house of Anselm Adorne, now host in his absence to some of his colleagues and friends from the Canongate. Julius was there. Young Jordan had recently stayed there too, with Kathi and Robin, but now lived at home with his parents.

Gelis had been right, of course, in her instinct. To celebrate the love of one son on the heels of the death of another had seemed wrenchingly disloyal until he got over it, and collected his own thoughts and feelings into some sort of order. After that, opening his door for the first time to Jordan, Nicholas had not, as he had bitterly feared, found it intolerable to see a boy of thirteen, not twenty-one; with plain brown hair instead of gold, and grey eyes for blue. He saw only that the grey eyes were ringed, and the young face pale, and that there was a dam of questions which had to be brought to breaking point and then past it; and that this was his job. The deepest distress, it emerged, had to do with Whistle Willie and Tam. Jordan had known them best of all, although he had admired Henry, in spite of the nonsense at Eccles. Nicholas told him how Henry had outfaced the English and fallen, and how his father had jumped in to save him.

‘But he couldn’t,’ Jordan had said. ‘One person can’t swim faster than another in that sort of river. You couldn’t have saved me in the Findhorn. You have to run along the bank first.’

‘You can’t do that either, if it’s a ravine,’ Nicholas said. ‘Anyway, the first instinct is to jump. Anyone would.’

He stopped, thinking about it, and found Jordan’s eyes fixed on him. Jordan said, ‘You did? You jumped in after Henry as well?’

He had told no one that. Neither had Wodman or Adorne. Nicholas said, ‘It is an instinct. I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save either of them.’

Jordan said, ‘Did they know you jumped in?’

‘Simon did,’ Nicholas said, after a moment. ‘Henry’s father. Henry just knew that his father was trying to save him, which was all that mattered.’

‘But,’ had said Jordan, ‘you would be glad that you had. That you tried. It wasn’t your fault that they died. They were fighting a war. They could have died anywhere.’ He paused and said, ‘I think you would have felt worse, like I do, if they had died somewhere else, and you just heard of it. You wish you could say goodbye. I wish I could have said goodbye to Whistle Willie.’

‘So do I,’ Nicholas said. He didn’t know how he appeared suddenly to be receiving counsel instead of giving it. He said, ‘But people part all the time, without saying anything special. You can’t. What is important is that the other person should know you are fond of them. Whistle
Willie didn’t need to be told that. And he’s happy. He had a great, frenzied sunburst of a life, in a place that suited him, and he only suffered for moments at the end of it. You and I are really sorry for ourselves, as much as for him.’

‘I’m sorry for him,’ Jordan said. ‘And for Tam. I would be sorry if anything happened to you.’

‘Well, I’m glad of that,’ Nicholas said. ‘Things do happen. Everyone is taken away, sooner or later. I know how I would feel if I lost you. But you have to live through it. You are your own person, not anyone else’s.’

He had left soon after that, leaving Jordan, contented, behind him. He felt much the same. In trying to heal Jordan’s hurt, he had somehow crossed the next barrier himself.

That exchange had been private. Tonight was Crown business. This unscheduled visit to Adorne’s house was to discuss, with those working with Nicholas, the latest turn in the English negotiations. Undeniably, there was a personal element as well, but that was nothing to be afraid of. He hoped.

Adorne was not in the house. Now, he divided his time between the Tolbooth and Linlithgow, although he had spoken to Nicholas since his return, and his had been one of the aforementioned cautionary voices. Don’t rock the boat. Don’t seek vengeance, not yet. Adorne had said the same to Father Moriz and Tobie and John, and eventually to Robin, when he fell into one of his rare, uncontrolled rages on Kathi’s behalf. ‘We are here for the good of this kingdom. Let us deal with that first.’ Since Lauder, Nicholas had never been alone with Kathi to talk about any of it, nor had attempted to be. Adult comment (as it had transpired) had not been what he required.

Now, it was Tobie’s wife Clémence who opened the door, and accorded him the fond smile he hadn’t merited when she was Jordan’s nurse, but which he had earned as Tobie’s friend. Then he was in the parlour, and all seven of them were there, as he hoped, including his sparring-partner from Kilmirren House, whom he hadn’t seen since their fight eleven days before, and who stared at him, grunting, before he sat down. Kathi, her face winsomely blank, said, ‘You’ve come to apologise to Julius.’

Nicholas inspected Julius briefly, without enthusiasm, and returned his gaze to the others. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’ve come to tell you the news. Avandale and Scheves and the other two are just back from their meeting with Gloucester. He was, of course, amazed at being asked to negotiate, but ended by discussing the terms on which he might remotely consider ending the campaign. Some were agreed on the spot. The rest will depend on what happens on Sunday, when Wattie Bertram and his burghers go to meet him. It looks promising.’

‘What was promised?’ said John. John, who had no personal life, felt
uncomfortable with others who had, and did not wish to talk about Henry, which suited Nicholas.

Nicholas said, ‘What we agreed. The surrender of Berwick-upon-Tweed. The return of Sandy to Scotland, fully pardoned, as the King’s most powerful subject, with all his lands and honours restored. Gloucester made a little speech about how sorry they would be to lose him. There isn’t, of course, the local backing to support Sandy as King, or not yet.’

No one spoke. These were the terms painfully thrashed out beforehand. It was no less painful to see them about to be ratified. John said, ‘And the Provost’s offer on Sunday?’ Again, they all knew what that was. To save their country, the Council had given up Berwick, and offered their power to Albany. The merchants of Edinburgh, on their part, had beggared themselves to create the final, golden inducement that would save Gloucester’s face.

Nicholas said, ‘We can only wait. But the feeling is that it will be accepted.’

Kathi said, ‘You must have been glad to see Drew and Colin and the other two back. That was dangerous.’

‘They’re brave men. It was a gamble,’ Nicholas said. ‘But we had to take it, not Gloucester. He’s the King’s brother. He doesn’t come to a parley that would expose him to kidnapping or murder, or even risk losing him Sandy. Wattie and Tom will be in less danger, we think. They’ll want to keep Berwick men sweet.’

‘So what comes now?’ It was Julius, gazing down his Roman nose; acting the schoolmaster.

Nicholas said, ‘Nine griping days. If he’s going to do it, Gloucester has to disband by the eleventh: that’s when the pay runs out, and the season is starting to close. Then we welcome back Albany. Then we reconcile Albany and the King. What will Liddell do, Julius? Will he welcome Sandy back as well, or has he been juggling the ledgers?’

‘He’ll weep for joy. You know that,’ Julius said. ‘He’s Sandy’s staunchest supporter. After you, of course. That’s why Sandy brought you to York. Now he’s about to get everything that he asked for. If Sandy’s uncrowned King, you’re going to be uncrowned Prince.’

Father Moriz said, ‘I think Nicholas has more sense than to believe that. Indeed, Julius, you have proved a friend to Liddell, and know as much about Sandy as anyone. I see a role for you in all this.’

‘That’s what I told the Council,’ said Nicholas. ‘I also had to say that he and I weren’t speaking to one another. Are we?’

‘No,’ Julius said.

‘Well, that’s all right,’ Kathi said. ‘We’ve finished speaking. Is anyone hungry? Nicholas, what do you eat at the Tolbooth?’

‘Each other,’ he said. He and Julius were still staring at one another.

Robin said, ‘Nicholas, why don’t you and Julius go and help Kathi and Clémence? We’ve no servants left since the children went.’

‘I’m not standing over a hot spit with Julius,’ Nicholas said. ‘Not unless Julius is on it, and turning.’

Neither did he, of course. Instead, he found himself standing in a small room alone with Julius, helping Kathi by tasting her wine. After a moment, he sat down, and so did Julius. Julius said, ‘You bastard. I was trying to help you, and you just about killed me.’

‘Trying to
help
me!’ Nicholas exclaimed. ‘You made the old man so wild he bloody disowned me.’

Julius said, ‘Dear me! Then you’ll have to explain, Nicholas; you really will. First, you don’t want me to prove you a St Pol. Next, I’m told to forgive you because you were so upset at the drowning of Simon. Now you’re rounding on me for getting you finally barred from the family. Who do you think that you are?’

‘Nicholas de St Pol of Kilmirren; grandson of Jordan de St Pol, and son of Simon. Who else?’ said Nicholas. ‘I don’t have proof. If I did, I wouldn’t use it, for it would bastardise the son of my marriage.’

He had finally silenced Julius. He had meant to. Julius said slowly, ‘You could have young Jordan legitimised. You could get dispensation for any other children you have.’

Nicholas said, ‘We don’t seem to be about to have other children. And I’d rather have Jordan grow up without his legitimacy being questioned.’

‘But Kilmirren?’ Julius said. ‘Diniz is disinherited. The old man has no other heirs. Will you let it fall back to the Crown when he dies?’

‘Yes. There really is no proof, Julius,’ Nicholas said. ‘You must have realised that. Certainly no papers. And nothing to show that between my mother’s first child and my birth she came to Scotland, or Simon went to join her in France. There is only my own unshakeable belief, and the bond I’ve always felt for them all. So I lost my head when we met. Also, whatever you think of the old man, it was cruel not to tell him the truth.’

The brawl seemed to have slipped Julius’s mind, which was following a different track. He said, ‘Did you know he was a raving beauty when young? Fat Father Jordan? They said young men swooned in his company.’

Nicholas refilled their cups. He said, ‘There was a rumour that he liked boys.’

Julius lifted a brow. ‘And you, his grandson, believed it? Not a bit. Don’t you remember Diniz being whisked off from your evil presence in Cyprus? And later, Tilde lost her first child from the shock, when the old man was raging about, accusing you and Diniz and Nerio of unnatural practices? No. He didn’t like pretty boys. He had a horror of them.
That’s why he brought up the next generation to be as randy as hell with the opposite sex. It was just as well that Simon couldn’t manage much in the fatherhood stakes. Didn’t you realise any of that?’ He was looking curious.

Nicholas said, ‘I suppose I should have.’

‘Get the Archer families to tell you. Andro won’t, he’s too mealy-mouthed. But Johnny Darnley remembers his grandfather’s stories—the first Lord Aubigny, whose troops became the French royal bodyguard, that Kilmirren belonged to?’ He broke off, considering. ‘I suppose it’s not surprising, with all those French connections, that Darnley didn’t want an English conquest of Scotland. I wonder what he really wants?’

‘Supper,’ said Kathi, coming in. ‘I see you liked the wine. I wonder if we have any more?’

Later, leaving, Nicholas walked with Kathi to the door. She said, ‘A reconciliation?’

‘More a kind of regal pardon,’ he said. ‘But thank you, from both of us.’ In the distance, Julius, happy, was shouting something to Robin. Close at hand, something sighed. Nicholas stopped.

Kathi had halted as well, her eyes dark in the lamplight. She said, ‘Tobie brought the lute back from Lauder. Other things, too. In that closet. You were to have what you wanted.’

He fingered open the door. Drums. He knelt by the nearest, his lips close, and spoke. It replied. When he rested his cheek, it became slowly still, but not deadened. He thought it simply resumed listening. He rose.