"If Hartside's story was not a pack of lies-and it did not sound to be-then I can drink of no other answer. Though she may well have given them unwillingly."
"You mean that he forced them from her? As the price for keeping his mouth shut?" "Something after that fashion." "Which could mean that Patrick Gray was right I"
"Possibly. But not necessarily. There could have been some other… indiscretion." "Ah!" "Not necessarily her own." "You mean-James's?"
"It is the King whom Orkney seeks to hurt And the Queen might fight for her husband's name and honour equally with her own. Even though she does not see eye to eye with him always." "I suppose it could be so. How might we find out?"
"I am not greatly concerned with finding out Save insofar as Alison Primrose be reinstated and given recompense. And Hartside's name cleared-if she is innocent. Also, Orkney prevented from doing the like again-if indeed he did it!"
"So many ifs, my friend… "
In order to have the masque over before darkness fell, if possible.
Cecil had arranged for the evening's banquet to proceed, out-of-doors, while the staged entertainment was going on. Heriot found a modest place in the great grassy amphitheatre amongst a group of Danish officers in blue velvet and silver lace, now somewhat soiled, who were already tipsy enough to have brought their uninvited women to the tables with them, where the ladies, dispensing with chairs and benches, stood, sat on knees, on the grass, even under the tables amongst the hunting dogs, screeching and skirling. It was as well that it was a warm night, for many of them were spectacularly underclad.
There was not much rising and bowing when the two monarchs made their belated appearance. Christian was a magnificent figure, and managed to hold himself markedly upright, even though he staggered somewhat James always staggered, and never troubled about standing upright Arm-in-arm they lurched to their places, whilst the instrumentalists played stirring music
Trumpeters blew, and then announced that the Masque of Solomon and Sheba would now be presented before their esteemed present-day Solomon and his guest the noble warrior-king Christian. Let all be silent and give due attention.
Silence and attention were scarcely easy of attainment in the circumstances. Men shouted for food, drink, at each other and at performers; women squealed and whinnied; servitors hurried to and fro, banging flagons, clattering dishes, and cursing; dogs barked, stole viands and squabbled over their hauls. Moreover, King Christian started immediately on a round of bellowed toasts, the first to bis 'goot broder Chames, the best bock honter in the vorld', after each of which toasts he embraced his fellow-monarch lovingly, a progressively more difficult operation as the series extended. His innumerable Danish henchmen roared, hooted and stamped approval, and loyally followed their master's example by embracing all in sight Heriot found himself breathless, battered but surprisingly popular.
Throughout the masque proceeded, in the centre of the arena. King Solomon, majestic in his pillared Temple, received the dusky Sheba, who brought gifts such as a dromedary, a pure white deer-fawn, apes dressed as Nubian chieftains, and cages of brilliantly-coloured birds, all led in by black slaves. The sight and smell of some of these rarities upset many of the dogs present, and Solomon's Court and Temple suffered to some extent; but with remarkable aplomb the Biblical monarch took it all in his gorgeously berobed stride, and, in answer to the cheers, sent Sheba with a large tray of special sweetmeats to present to the two latter-day monarchs on their canopied platform opposite.
Sheba, on this occasion, was the statuesque Countess of Worcester-who had most evidently been fortifying herself for the event in a major way. With the black slaves supporting her, she managed very well until she came to the steps up to the royal platform, even seeking to skip a little to the lively air provided by the musicians. But her slaves modestly held back at the steps, and, silver tray before her swelling profile, she mounted alone, tripped over the top step, and hurtled forward all her length and shapeliness, to collapse at King Christian's feet. Unfortunately, the tray being in front of her, emptied all its contents over the great Dane's lap and person, cream, jellies, spirits, cakes and the like. Spectacular was the ruin.
Christian was nothing if not gallant, and a good man in an emergency. Shouting commiserations to the lady, he struggled to his unsteady feet, wiping mixed delicacies off his clothing and beard, and stooping, sought to raise the Countess. But this was too much for his own precarious equilibrium and he collapsed in turn, part over James and part over Sheba-for there was a lot of him.
James yelped and gesticulated, and courtiers rushed forward to the rescue. Somehow they got both Christian and the lady to then-feet, and tried to press the Dane back into his chair and lead the Countess off. But they reckoned without the Viking spirit. The music continuing even more urgently, Christian decided that he must put the unfortunate Sheba fully at ease by dancing with her -although by this time she was in fact giggling in helpless abandon. Possibly the monarch might have achieved his laudable aim to some extent, had it not been for the wretched steps down from the platform-for there was no room to dance thereon. Steps are awkward things at the best of times, and these, although be-rugged with fine Persian carpeting, were none the more negotiable therefor. Down them King and Countess fell in mighty prostration, to crash headlong on the grass. And there, although Sheba crawled off in sobbing hysterics, Christian lay outstretched, breathing stertorously.
Swiftly, eager hands hurried to raise him up once more. But this time the King of Denmark was temporarily not interested in the upright, or in anything else; and his supporters, not all stone-cold-sober themselves, found themselves with a weighty problem on their hands. What to do with a slack-jointed would-be-recumbent monarch?
King James, apostrophising the Deity, took charge. With royal swipes he personally cleared everything off the top of the monarchial table, flagons, beakers, dishes, sent them all crashing' to the ground, and ordered His Scandinavian Majesty to be laid thereon, amongst the spilt wines and residues. There Christian snored, while Solomon continued unperturbed to expound wisdom from his Temple-wisdom as little appreciated by the rest of the somewhat bemused company as it had been down the ages.
Concerned for his friend, who seemed to have settled for the night, James muttering about dews and chill vapours, with Latin allusions, commanded Christian to be removed to his bedchamber forthwith. He himself, having had enough of the masque, escorted the cortege, recollecting to clap on his high hat before leaving the scene.
Solomon, although lacking Sheba and much of his entourage, continued. Cecil cancelled the fireworks display.
George Heriot, knowing his own monarch of old, disentangled himself from his new Danish friends and their ladies and sought out the Duke of Lennox. Sure enough, they found King James already ensconced in the anteroom to his bedchamber, with a few of his Scots intimates and Sir Philip Herbert, recently created Earl of Montgomery, settling down to a more profitable evening's entertainment with new bottles and flagons. At Lennox's representations, James looked over to where Heriot stood, frowned, shrugged and finally rose to totter through to his bedroom. The Duke waved his friend over, and together they followed their liege lord, and shut the door.
"Aye, Geordie-so you've come'. You've taken your time to heed my call, I'm thinking I"
"I am ever at your service, She. I dropped my other commitments as swiftly as I might"
"Ooh, aye-maybe. Yon was a right stramash, tonight."
"It was, She. I hope that His Majesty of Denmark will be none the worse."
"No' him. He's got a heid like a cannon-ba'. But yon Worcester woman was fell lacking in discretion."
'It was scarcely a discreet performance, in any way" Lennox commented.
The King chuckled. "Cecil will be fair whammled! Now-this o' the Master o' Gray."
Surprised, the two men considered their unpredictable sovereign.
"You ken what that limb o' Satan has the effrontery to be up to now? He is suing me, in the High Cou
rt o' Scotland, for fifty thousand pounds Scots. Me, the Crown! In my ain courts! Fifty thousand pounds!"
They could only stare.
"Hae you ever heard the like? The brazen insolence o' the man!"
"But suing you for what, She. What is his case?" "God kens!"
"But this is impossible. To sue you, to sue anyone, in the courts, the case must be accepted as having some basis for debate. In law. Has his case been so accepted? For hearing? In the High Court?"
"Well, sort o', Geordie-sort o' accepted. I'm right displeased about that Wi' Seton I made him Chancellor and Earl o' Dunfermline-and this is how he serves me. And Tam Hamilton o' the Coogate, the Advocate. He's a kind o' cousin o' yours, Geordie, is he no'? He should ha' kent better."
"There must be some sort of case, then You must have some notion, She?"
"Och, well-the man says I owe him some siller. For some ploy or other. Something long by wi'. When he was acting Chancellor," James said vaguely.
"Can he sue the King? In court?" Lennox demanded.
"They tell me he can-a plague on them a'! Ifs wicked. Unsuitable."
"It will be Your Majesty's Scottish Exchequer that he is suing, She. Not you personally."
"No, it's mysel’. Me, the King. The Lord's Anointed. It's beyond belief."
"And do you owe Him fifty thousand pounds, James?" Lennox asked. "Or did you?"
"Waesucks-no! It's a' havers. Och, maybe a pound or twa, here and there. Nae mair." "But you did owe him something?"
"Dinna harry me, Vicky-I'll no' have it. Ifs a' by wi'-long ago."
"But you remember the issue, Sire?" That was Heriot "If you wish us to help Your Majesty in this, we must know the facts. What was the occasion, do you recollect?"
"Och, it was yon ill business o' Patrick Stewart When he was Master o' Orkney. But it wasna onything like fifty thousand pounds. That’s a' interest he's claiming, the man. Wicked! Besides, I didna borrow the siller. Gray gave it" "How much, Sire?" "I canna mind. You've no' to keep at me, this way. Or I'll get some other body to do my business for me 1" "What do you wish me to do, Sire?"
"Go up to Scotland. Search out what Patrick Gray's at. Stop the case being tried. I'm no' wanting talk. And I'm no' wanting Orkney brought into it either-that's for sure I" "But the money was connected with Orkney in the first place?"
"I've said so, have I no'? Orkney's an ill limmer. But he's my cousin. I'll no' hae him brought into this." Perplexed, the other two exchanged glances.
"My mission is less than clear, Sire," Heriot complained. "I am at a loss to know what I am to do."
"Use your wits, man-that's what Find oot Gray's case. Discover its weaknesses. Come to terms wi' the wretch, if you must But keep it oot o' court. And keep Orkney oot o' it Is that no' simple enough?"
The other considered. There was a deal more in this than met the eye, obviously. And a murky deal, probably. But equally obviously, it would be better handled by himself than by officials. Moreover, he had come to Theobalds with the intention of trying to press James into letting him go to Scotland, to see Alison Primrose and try to clear up the other business, in which Orkney also was involved. He had been prepared to pay for that permission- and now he was being presented with it free. And without having to involve James in talk about the Queen's jewels-which he did not want to do. He should probably be thankful, relieved. He decided, however, that he might as well make the most of his opportunity, while he had it, in his friend's interest
"Majesty-you put the Earl of Orkney under a suspended sentence, for good behaviour. Under the supervision of my lord Duke here. Would it not be wise to send him up to Scotland likewise, if the Earl is to be kept out of this affair? My lord of Orkney will pay little attention to me, I fear. But my lord Duke could speak with authority, strength." Looking over at Lennox, he saw that man's eyes light up. He was ever longing to get away back to Scotland and Mary Gray-and James knew it, but was markedly loth to allow it
"Ooh, aye-I ken you twa" the King said, eyeing them shrewdly. "You pray each other's hands. I'm no' sure I can aye trust you, together. But maybe you're right on this ploy. Aye, you go too, Vicky-and see your Gray lassie. In case there's trouble wi' Orkney. You deal wi' him." "To be sure, James. It will be my pleasure." "When do you wish us to leave, Sire?"
"So soon as you may. Settle your affairs in London, and then off wi' you. But-bide a wee, bide a wee, man. I'm no' finished wi' you, Geordie. I'm needing some siller, see you. This good-brother o' mine, King Christian, is a right expense. And he's here for a month, yet Parliament's no nearer a proper settlement. I'm saving them millions on sojers and ships and guns and the like-but d'you think they thank me? They bicker and argue ower my royal moneys. I've made a' the knights I can, o' everyone that wants to be a knight-and a wheen that didna! Aye, and lords, too. Can you let me hae twenty thousand pounds Sterling, Geordie?"
Heriot groaned with himself. He was not to get off cheaply, after all. "Could Your Majesty not do with less, meantime?" he asked. "It will stretch me to the utmost Already I am outlaid more than that on your royal behalf. And the Queen…"
"No, I couldna, sir. That's the least I can get by wi', until King Christian goes. You'd no hae me begging frae him, would you?"
"No, Sire. Very well. I have five hundred pounds with me, in my box. The rest I shall bring here, as we pass on our way North to Scotland…"
"Do that, Geordie. And, see you, one Sir Amyas Ramsden, who had the customs o' Harwich haven to farm, has died. George Heriot, jeweller, shall hae them in his place. And I swear he'll mak mair oot o' them than ever Ramsden did! Off wi' you both…"
13
THE BELL-HEATHER WAS glowing richly purple on all the Border hillsides as the two friends rode into Scotland, their hearts lifting to the unfailing vehemence, vigour and challenge of their own land after the softer atmospheres and attitudes of the South.
In Edinburgh, however, they did not find overmuch to maintain the uplift of their hearts. They were not long in discovering that none of the principal actors in the dramas, personal and political, with which they were presently concerned, were in fact in the city. Mary Gray and Alison Primrose were both in Perthshire, the former at Methven, the latter at her father's small lairdship of Burnbrae, near Culross, James Primrose's duties with the Scots Privy Council not requiring him to be in the capital at this season. Indeed Edinburgh was empty of much of its gentry and nobility, for this was the harvest season and almost all that class were still closely enough linked with the soil to be returned to their lands for this busy and important period. The Master of Gray was at Broughty Castle in Angus; the Earl of Orkney was said to be away in Orkney itself once more, despite the royal ban put upon such return; and the Chancellor, now Earl of Dunfermline, was at that town, still apparently palace building.
As for Margaret Hartside, she was not in Edinburgh either. According to James Heriot, she was confined captive in Blackness Castle, the state prison near Linlithgow in West Lothian. No, she had not come to him for any moneys, as his brother's letter had said she would; she had not been free to do so, indeed taken straight to Durfermline, under guard, where she had been questioned, and then confined in Blackness.
"Dunfermline?" George Heriot repeated. "Why Dunfermline? Not because the Chancellor is there, surely? This is not so great a matter that the Chancellor must attend to it? Do you mean that she was put to trial at Dunfermline, for some reason?"
"Not trial, no. She has not been tried. Only examined. Questioned. And is now being held. I can only think that she was taken to Dunfermline because it is the Queen's own bailiwick, and this was her servant, accused of hurt to Her Grace." "Strange. Who then examined her? Not the Chancellor?"
"No. Sir Henry Wardlaw, they say. Chamberlain to the Queen, in Scotland."
"And he had the power to imprison her in Blackness Castle? Without trial?" "That I do not know. But Blackness is where she is kept."
James Heriot did not know, either, anything of the Master of Gray's demands on the Crown. This
was the first he had heard of it
The enquirers were fortunate in running to earth one notability of some significance in their quest, however, in his town house in the Cowgate of Edinburgh-Sir Thomas Hamilton of Binning, the Lord Advocate. He was laid up with the gout and so unable to travel to his estates meantime. A coarse-looking, red-faced bull of a man, with nevertheless one of the sharpest minds in Scotland, he was a cousin of the Heriots, his mother having been the daughter of Heriot of Traboum, the head of the family. Tam o' the Coogate, as he was known, was not a little surprised to see the Duke of Lennox and his cousin from London, but he greeted them, in his bedchamber, with a sort of wary joviality.
They asked about the Hartside case first, and Hamilton, after a keen glance disclaimed much knowledge of the matter. "I am the King's Advocate," he explained, "and this seems to be a private matter o' the Queen's. It doesna come into my responsibilities- God be thankit, for I've plenty."
"But if she is to be tried, surely you, or your people, would come into it? You are responsible for all prosecutions by the Crown, are you not? And the Queen is part of the Crown, surely?"
"That is arguable, man Geordie. If the Queen chooses to mak private prosecution on her ain behoof, then the Crown needna come into it Nor my Crown Office. And as to trial-is there to be atrial?" "She is locked up in Blackness, I understand, awaiting trial."
"Hph'mm. Awaiting something, maybe. But maybe no' a trial! I heard tell, see you, just between me and you, that the Queen was now very much against a trial, in this matter."
"But… what does that mean? This young woman is arrested, charged with stealing the Queen's jewels-and charged privately, mind you, by the Queen. She denies it-but is sent up to Scotland under guard, examined at Dunfermline, so I hear, not tried. And clapped in Blackness Castle, untried. For an offence allegedly committed in England. This is contrary to all justice, surely? Is there a law in this land, or is there not?"
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