Daughters of the Silk Road: A beautiful and epic novel of family, love and the secrets of a Ming Vase (16 page)

The girls laughed and each one found herself just a little bit in love with their tall dark uncle.

Peter was keen to introduce his brother-in-law to their business partners as soon as possible. But Maria begged him to be patient.

‘Just give us a little time together first, Peter – please? It has been so many years since we last were together.’

On their walks round Bruges, Maria took Daniele to visit the hospital of St John, of which she was a patron. Since their experience on the island, she had been pleased to be involved in the support of the sick and dying in Bruges. She was proud of the high standards of the hospital and the care that the patients received at the hands of the nuns.

‘It is nothing like the island, brother,’ she said when she took him there.

‘We take good care of our patients here. They are well fed, warm and comfortable. And many of them get well. I hope you will be impressed.’

Maria took great delight in showing Daniele all the little hidden byways of Bruges. One morning, she took a large basket from the hall table and asked him to accompany her to the fish market.

‘He doesn’t want to go there,’ said Peter irritably. ‘He’s not come all this way to buy fish, for goodness sake.’

‘I just want him to see it.’

‘I shall go with her, Peter. I shall enjoy it,’ Daniele said amicably.

The day was sunny and the brother and sister walked happily along by the Groenerei together. Maria took Daniele’s arm.

‘I wanted to live near here when we first moved to Bruges. It reminded me of the fish market in Venice. Do you remember?’

‘Of course I do,’ said Daniele. ‘How could I forget? That last walk through the market nearly did for us – the fishermen recognizing Papa like that.’

‘Yes, that was unfortunate. But it was a friendly place and I loved the noise and bustle of it all. Our little fish market here is much the same. And if I need other things – to order meat or vegetables for the house – it is just a short walk to the main market square, just beyond the Burg.’

‘It seems you have everything here,’ said Daniele.

‘We do, and we are very content.’

‘But Margarethe is to move to Antwerp; how do you feel about that?’

‘It will be a wrench, that is for certain,’ said Maria sadly. ‘But I am happy for her. Cornelius is a good man and has a good business. He is interested in developing a porcelain import business. They are to have the vase. I hope it will provide inspiration for them.’

That evening, after dinner, the family sat as usual in the drawing room. The girls played cards. Maria sat at her needlework and Peter and Daniele stood with their backs to the fire, drinking a glass of wine.

‘I am glad to see you here, brother. My own brothers hardly come to Bruges anymore. My uncle passed away several years ago. To be honest, I feel in need of some male company!’ And he gestured at the five women sitting near them. ‘I live in a female household.’

‘It seems to me that you are a fortunate man,’ said Daniele, smiling.

‘I am,’ said Peter. ‘Nevertheless, it is good to have you here. If my wife has finished showing you around, I shall take you to the Burg tomorrow and introduce to you to my fellow counsellors.’

It was but a five-minute walk from their house on the Groenerei to the Burg. Peter was one of an exclusive group of twenty-six town councillors who were also magistrates. These twenty-six also formed the guild of the Holy Blood – a fraternity dedicated to protecting a holy relic held at the Basilica, the richly decorated church that stood next to the Burg. The relic was said to be a vial of ‘holy blood’ taken by Joseph of Arimathea from Jesus Christ after his crucifixion. It was brought to Bruges, according to legend, during the second crusade in 1150 by the Count of Flanders.

The fraternity were tasked with its protection and on Holy Blood Day would take part in a procession through the town wearing the guild livery, during which the vial would be displayed to the townspeople before being safely returned to its sanctuary in the Basilica behind a heavy iron grille.

Peter had become an elevated member of Bruges society and he revelled in it. But it created stresses and strains. He spent at least half of his time on town or guild business and worried constantly about the development of the family’s enterprise. He hoped, when Daniele arrived in Bruges, to convince him to return to the city and help him to run the business.

After their day on the Burg, he took his brother-in-law to the bathhouse. Sited in a large building on the edge of the square, this was a convivial place for merchants to meet and discuss business. It was also a convenient place for assignations of other kinds; couples were regularly to be espied bathing together in dark corners, lit only by candlelight. Unlike Venice, prostitution was actively discouraged by the straight-laced burghers of Bruges; but they would turn a blind eye to an unmarried couple, or a visiting merchant seeking comfort in a lady of lesser virtue in the bath house.

Peter and his family were able to take baths regularly at their house on the Groenerei. Large wooden tubs would be brought into the bedchambers and lined with linen before being filled with water from the kitchen. It was a laborious process, but served its purpose. But Peter enjoyed the bathhouse. He had never quite forgotten the easy lasciviousness of Venice, and relished the opportunity to espy beautiful naked women as they climbed into a bath in a dimly lit corner. He adored Maria, of course, but had been tempted once or twice during their long marriage by these ladies at the bathhouse. He felt some guilt about it, but reasoned that it was a small reward for his hard work over the years.

The bathhouse, however, was not just an opportune place to meet women; Peter relished it for its warmth on a cold winter’s night; for the steam, which cleared his sinuses; and most of all, for the opportunity the bathhouse afforded for relaxed conversation. Deals could be struck more easily with a merchant from Genoa or Nuremberg if you sat in a bath with them drinking a large glass of wine.

Daniele was used to bathhouses of course. They were common in the Nordic countries too, although there too any drinking or ‘loose’ behaviour was actively discouraged.

‘Does Maria know you come here?’ he asked his brother-in-law as they lay back in the deep hot water.

‘Yes, she knows. She wouldn’t come here herself, of course – it wouldn’t be seemly. But she knows that a lot of business gets done here and she understands. She is a good woman, your sister.’

The following day, Peter took Daniele for a meeting at the international exchange on Vlamingstraat, the Herberg ter Buerse, to discuss prices for their goods. Daniele had arranged a large shipment of furs to be delivered to Bruges the following week. After lunch Peter had arranged for them to visit the loggias of Venice and Genoa, which stood either side of the Buerse, where the talk drifted easily to their shared experiences of Italian life. Peter relished these meetings. He had enjoyed his time in Venice and fell easily and naturally into the language. And he enjoyed the reminiscences. He was happy to be in Bruges, of course; it was the most important city in northern Europe at that time, and he was proud of his success there, but his time in Venice would always hold a special place in his heart.

Daniele, by contrast, felt uncomfortable around people from his father’s home city. He lived in dread of someone revealing how he and Maria had left Venice. But the story had long been forgotten. If there had ever been gossip amongst the merchants of Venice about the sudden disappearance of dei Conti’s two children, it appeared to have faded with the years, and no one he met in the loggias connected either him or his sister with the plague, or with the island on which they had been briefly incarcerated.

Daniele was impressed by how Maria and Peter had grown in stature in the city. They were clearly at the centre of business and courtly life. Preparations for Margarethe’s betrothal party were nearing completion and the house was humming with activity. Greenery was delivered – picked from the Haas’s country estate – to decorate the ballroom and drawing room. Baskets of fresh flowers arrived daily. Haunches of venison were unloaded from carts on the cobbled street outside. Boxes of fruit and vegetables arrived on an almost hourly basis. From dawn till dusk staff were polishing, baking, cooking and arranging.

‘You have done well, sister,’ Daniele pronounced the evening before the party, as he sat with his sister in front of the fire in her small sitting room. ‘I like this room, Maria. It reminds me of my own little wooden house in Sweden. My life there is much simpler than yours here in Bruges. I have only two servants and I prefer it that way. I like to be outside, in the woods. I love the clear air, and the snow, when it’s thick on the ground. I love nothing more than to be outside hunting with Freya at my side.’

‘And will Annelise be satisfied with just two servants, do you think?’ asked Maria, her eyes firmly on her needlepoint.

‘Yes, I think so. Why? Do you think she might prefer something a little grander? I do hope not. She seems a sensible, straightforward girl.’

‘Well, when you are married, you must bring her here to meet us, Daniele. Then perhaps I can judge her needs. But if you require a larger house, brother, you just have to say. The business is doing well and you are entitled to more of the profits if you need them.’

‘Ah, you are kind, sister. I doubt we will need more; certainly nothing like your house here on the Groenerei. It is so splendid; it’s almost like a palace. I wonder what our father would have thought of it all? I am glad for you, though, and I am proud of my nieces. They are all beauties, your girls,
cara
. But you must have yearned for a son, I think?’

‘I love my daughters so much,’ said Maria. ‘I don’t say that we wouldn’t have liked a son. I’m sure Peter would have done – to carry on the business. But Margarethe is very intelligent and sensible. She is marrying a wonderful young man and I know they will be successful in Antwerp.’

‘And the others?’ asked Daniele.

‘They are all remarkable in their own way. I’m sure they will each find suitable husbands in time.’

Upstairs, as Maria chatted with her brother, Margarethe’s younger sister Caterina sat at her dressing table in the window of her room overlooking the canal. She was sixteen, and the third daughter of Maria and Peter Haas. Her elder sisters, Margarethe, Beatrice and ‘baby’ sister Katje, had all inherited their mother’s dark hair and blue eyes. Margarethe’s eyes were the most startling – a blue green that shone out from her pale face. But Caterina, the only daughter to be given an Italian name after their mother’s family heritage, was blonde. Her hair was the softest gold, much like that of their father, Peter. Her eyes matched his too; they were grey, like the cool water than ran through the canal outside their house on the Groenerei.She had retreated to her bedroom earlier in the day, in part to escape the frenzied activity in the house below. Margarethe’s betrothal party would take place the following evening, and Caterina had to confess that she was jealous: of the party itself, and of the fuss being made of Margarethe.

But there was another reason for her ill humour. The man Margarethe was to marry, Cornelius van Vaerwye, had caught Caterina’s eye the previous year, when they had taken part in the celebrations for the sumptuous wedding of the Duke of Burgundy to Margaret of York.The Duke’s father had set up court in Bruges some years before and the town was proud of its royal associations. The marriage itself was conducted in the Church of our Lady at Damme, near Bruges, and was followed by twelve days of banquets, pageants, masques, processions, jousting and tournaments. The great families of the town were all involved – hosting parties, attending the banquets and tournaments.

On the day of the marriage itself, the royal couple arrived in Bruges to find the streets decked with ribbons and bright banners. A spectacular procession took place through the streets, in which the new Duchess was carried on a litter to her Ducal Palace. Tableaux were performed all along the route; the first was of Adam and Eve in paradise; the second depicted Cleopatra being given in marriage to Alexander. English and Burgundian nobles, accompanied by their yeoman and men-at-arms, led the procession. Minstrels and trumpeters, playing as they marched, followed them. Ambassadors, knights, bishops and clerics came next. Then the merchants of all the loggias of Bruges processed, led by the Venetians dressed in crimson velvet; they were followed by the Florentines, with the Medici banker Tomasso Portarini leading the way; his merchants were all dressed in black satin with crimson doublets. After them came the Spaniards, followed by the Genoese, led by a beautiful girl on horseback representing the virgin saved from the dragon by St George. Finally, one hundred and eight German merchants, including Peter Haas, dressed in violet cloth and grey fur, made a spectacular finale to the procession.

The new Duchess arrived at the Ducal Palace at midday. The wedding breakfast was to take place in a wooden banqueting hall complete with glass windows, which had been prefabricated in Brussels and erected on the Duke’s tennis court. In the afternoon, the wedding party moved to the Market Square to watch the first of many jousts. Peter and his family joined the crowd watching the spectacle from the upper rooms of the Burg. As one of the leading merchant families in the city, Peter, Maria and their daughters had been invited to a banquet at the Palace that evening. Maria had insisted on new gowns for their four girls. Margarethe, Beatrice and Katje had chosen silks in shades of green and blue. But Caterina, with her fair hair and grey eyes, had selected a dramatic cloth of red silk, embroidered with black thread. It was cut in a low ‘V’ at the front, revealing a little décolleté, with a belt of black silk just under the bust and sleeves edged in fur. Her hair would be pulled back, as was the fashion, and she would wear a tall
hennin
headdress with a delicate veil. The dress was delivered the day before the grand banquet and Caterina could not wait to try it on. She hoped it would create a magnificent impression.

On the evening of the banquet, Peter Haas ushered his beautiful wife and four daughters into the Duke’s Palace. The entrance was dominated by a vast tableau painted in gold and azure blue depicting two lions, the Duke’s coat of arms. On either side were painted two archers; created in relief, they appeared almost real to the observer. But behind their wooden facades, newly constructed fountains had been erected that flowed with wine. It spouted and gushed from the archers’ arrows: Beaune from one and Rhenish wine from the other. It fell into large stone vats from which guests could take their fill.