The Wisest Fool mog-4

by Nigel Tranter

  Heriot had only time to jump from the saddle before his betrothed was upon him, a vehement, uninhibited assembly of urgent limbs, fluttering clothing and streaming hair, to be caught, lifted high, whirled round and hugged close, all in one continuous, sweeping motion, amidst a breathless and disconnected babblement of words and exclamations, until lips met lips and at least the noise was stilled-scarcely behaviour apt for the Master-Elect of the 'Worshipful Company of Hammermen of the City of London, and in consecrated premises, moreover.

  Mary and the boy came to present themselves in smiling welcome, after a due interval, while Alison, clutching the man's doublet sleeve wove to and fro on tip-toe at his side, unable to stand still and blinking tears of joy from her eyes, still seeking an intelligible pattern of words. It was Mary Gray however, who enunciated the required phrases of greeting, gladness, affection and question, after bestowing her own generous kiss full on Heriot's fortunate lips. John Stewart of Methven had difficulty in obtaining a hand to shake.

  The newcomer, less than fluently, was commencing to explain his arrival on the scene when he perceived that there was another person present, lingering behind a little, a tall, flaxen-haired and serenely beautiful older woman, in her late thirties, grey-eyed, fine-featured, dressed in notably rich riding-clothes, who waited with a half-smile and a calm dignity. He paused.

  Noting the look, Mary turned. "Marie," she called, "here is Master George Heriot, Alison's betrothed and the King's man of business. Geordie-the Lady Marie Stewart, Mistress of Gray. Whom I suppose you might name my step-mother"

  Heriot contrived a bow of sorts, his wits for the moment all agley. This was the Master's wife, Orkney's sister, the King's cousin, and Mary Queen of Scots' niece-in the circumstances hardly the person he was best prepared to meet. . The other effortlessly put him more at ease. "The famous Master Geordie himself " she said, in a voice melodious as it was warmly assured. She came forward. "My loss that I have never met you until this. But I feel that I know you well-and like what I know. These two never fail to sing your praises, sir."

  "My lady," he said. "I… ah… am greatly privileged. Your servant. I know your husband…"

  "Ah, yes. Who does not? And Patrick ever speaks of you with great respect-which he does not of all men. Moreover, Patrick, whatever else, is a shrewd judge of character. As, I think, is our Alison here, in different fashion! I understand that she wanted only you, of the whole King's Court"

  "And had a mighty task to convince him that he was not altogether too far gone in years for this babe-in-arms!" The girl had found her voice again-although still she clung to him.

  "You have not brought my man with you, Geordie?" Mary Gray asked. "That is too much to hope for." "Only a letter, I fear…" "Have you come to wed me, Geordie?"

  He swallowed. "Not this time, lass. Next year. I have seen your father. Next year…"

  "A year!" That was a wail "Another whole year! Oh, Geordie, how can you say that? How could you?" Alison flung away from him. "I believe that you do not truly love me, at all!"

  "I do, I do! Am I not here, to prove it, my dear? But… your father would have it so. And I agree that it would be wiser…"

  "Wiser! Is that the kind of betrothed I have 1 Is it wisdom that I've to wed?" He bit his lip.

  Mary took his arm, instead of the other. "Look not so cast down, Geordie," She smiled. "Women are ever thus. Give them the world, and they want the moon and stars! Alison would count the days, rather than the weeks and months. Were she quite content to put off for your year-then, I say, you might well look glum!"

  "Yes. Perhaps. But it is necessary. I do not wish this delay, God knows. But… in London, the Court… where we must live… the Queen… it would be difficult."

  "Difficult Is it for ease that you would wed me?" Alison demanded. "I have waited all these long months already. Must the Queen's spleen date our marriage?"

  "It was your misjudgment which roused the Queen, Alison my dear," Mary reminded. "And caused Geordie to fall from her favour-to his much cost, I am sure. If you would wed the King's jeweller you cannot afford the Queen's spleen, deserved or other."

  "You would take his part! It is easy for you…" Alison stopped, and drew a deep breath. "Ah, well-at least he is here. And did not say, this once, that I was too young " And she came back to the man's side.

  He put his arm around her. "Forgive me, lass. Would that we might be wed tomorrow! Nothing in this world would rejoice me so much. But this, I fear, is part of the price I have to ask you to pay, in marrying an older man-only a part, indeed. I cannot throw responsibilities to the winds, as once I might-my responsibility towards you, most of all."

  "Yes, but…" She looked up at him, and smiled again. "I am sorry, Geordie. No more of this. For I am happy, truly-very happy. And proud, too."

  "You should be." That was the Lady Marie. She came over and kissed the girl on the cheek. "I think that you are the most fortunate young woman in all Scotland, my dear!"

  "When are we going home?" the bored John Stewart of Methven asked. "I am hungry."

  The laughter provided the necessary and welcome break. Mary Gray took charge. They would be on their way, she decided. But the Lady Marie and Johnnie and herself would ride ahead, with the grooms-for the two betrothed would wish to be alone together, with much to say to each other after the months of parting. Let them follow on to Methven in their own good time.

  And so, presently Alison Primrose was riding pillion on Heriot's horse, her arms tightly round the man, in fact singing liltingly if somewhat jouncily in his right ear to the rhythm of the trot, as they followed a bridle-path along the alder-grown banks of the Pow Burn, a quiet route eastwards advised by the young woman as unlikely to yield any fellow-travellers.

  "The Lady Marie?" the man said, presently. "I had not thought to encounter the Master of Gray's wife here. I had hoped to speak with Mary about him, her father. Having the wife present may prove difficult."

  "I think not," Alison said. "The Lady Marie is not difficult. She is good, understanding. She and Mary are like sisters-better friends than most sisters."

  "Aye-but this of her husband. I can scarce speak of it before her. His relations with the King…"

  "I think that you may. She is fond of the Master-but so is Mary. They have long united in seeking to keep him from the worst of his mischiefs. Or what they consider so. He is a strange man, with much good to him as well as ill, they say. These two are at one in seeking to counter that ill Neither, I swear, will ever betray him. But they will strive to prevent his wickedness where they can. For his own sake, I do believe, rather than the King's, or others'."

  "I still would be loth to speak freely of him, before her." “Yet she knows more of the Master's affairs than anyone else, of necessity, Geordie." She jerked at him, from behind. "Is that what you came for? I had hoped that it was to see me!"

  "As you know very well, my dear, I need excuse to leave the Court. I could not be come to see you had I not an errand to fulfil for the King. But… I am here, to see you, first and foremost The rest is but the price I have to pay for that joy." He pointed. "See yonder trees? I will prove what I came for, there. By your leave!"

  Her laughter trilled at his ear. "Remember your age-and mine -sir I A man of great responsibilities. And, and wisdom " "Wait you! "he told her.

  There was not much of waiting on the part of either of them, indeed, when they reached the little copse of wind-blown pines and whins and bracken at the west end of Methven Moss. They were into each other's arms almost from the moment their feet touched the ground, Heriot's horse left to its own devices. With mutual eagerness they clutched each other, lips and hands busy, bodies urgent, words all but dispensed with, in compensation for the weary months of parting. Last year's bracken offered all the couch they sought, and Methven Moss and Tippermuir were transformed for these two, thereafter, into the very anteroom of paradise. Time, like everything else extraneous to themselves, was no longer relevant

  They had much to
say to each other, in more eloquent language than mere speech.

  When eventually they rode on eastwards across the moorland, both were equally silent, lost in the aftermath of delight, savouring, sifting, sounding but by no means satiated, glowing with a foretaste of the promise of deeper fulfilment so richly promised back there. It was going to be all right, better even that they had hoped, a splendour. They could wait now, assured, certain, however superficially impatient Every now and again they squeezed each other, and sometimes the man looked back over his shoulder into her shining eyes, unspeaking.

  That evening in Methven Castle, Heriot’s mission with Will Shakespeare, the actor and playwright, greatly intrigued the women. Mary and Alison had recently been to nearby Perth to see the King's Players in a comedy called Love's Labour's Lost, and though they had not particularly noticed Master Shakespeare, they were full of the excellence and delights of the entertainment, and enthusiastic over the idea of a Scottish play. As for the Lady Marie, she proved to be very knowledgeable about King MacBeth and his period-he was an ancestor of her own, of course. She was able to advise Heriot as to locations which the man Shakespeare ought to visit, in the Perth area at Dunsinane and Collace and Forteviot and Bimam, up in Moray at Forres and Elgin, and in Aberdeenshire at Lumphanan and Kildrummy. Only, she did introduce a complication when she pointed out that the tradition of the witches, who were so prominent in the MacBeth story, had an alternative location to the Hardmuh of Forres-namely, a heath much nearer at hand, only some ten miles away from Methven indeed, across Tay and west of the Dunsinane area. This was the Eastmuir of Cairnbeddie-the Beddie but a corruption of Beda or Beth-and there they would find the Witches' Stone and other named relics of MacBeth a hundred miles from the Forres scene. The man promised to investigate. Presumably King James had not known about this, for in his preoccupation with the witches, he had mentioned only Forres.

  From James and Shakespeare the talk moved to Margaret Hartside's case and the Queen's attitude and intentions. The Earl of Orkney, behind it all, inevitably came into this; but Mary Gray made no bones about referring to him as an unscrupulous and very potent firebrand, which the Earl's sister not only did not contest but implied full agreement Not that she had any suggestions as to what his ultimate intentions were, or how he might be countered. She did indicate, however, that her husband's constant traffic with his brother-in-law seemed to have stopped, meantime.

  This brought them to the verge of Heriot's more secret mission, which he was in grave doubts about airing in front of the Mistress of Gray. But, whether or no Alison had had a word with her, Mary Gray clearly had no such doubts. As the man cleared his throat, preparatory to a complete change of subject, she spoke.

  "Geordie-the Lady Marie is no stranger to many of the problems which concern you, on the King's behalf. She is as anxious as am I that Patrick Gray should not be involved in further plots or actions against the Crown-we have had more than sufficient of such! She is entirely to be trusted, I do assure you. You may speak freely before her."

  "That is so, Master Geordie," the older woman agreed, quietly. "I love and cherish my husband-but that makes me the more concerned for his welfare and best interests. He is an inveterate and most skilful plotter-always I have known this, and have worked to save him from the worst consequences of his plotting. To save the victims also, if I might That makes my fondness for him none the less. I shall not reveal any secrets." He still hesitated. Obviously this woman already knew much of his own part in the affairs of the King versus her husband, with Mary evidently confiding in her entirely. But if it came to a vital clash of interests, a matter of life and death-as it easily could do, with treason in the air-where would her ultimate sympathies he? Where Mary's also?

  As though she read his thoughts, Mary added, "The Lady Marie and I will ever seek to save Patrick from the most grievous effects of his activities. Where that is possible. But we prefer that we do so by helping to halt such activities before they go too far, rather than afterwards 1 Which, I think, is your own intent, Geordie?"

  He nodded. "Which means, does it not, that you believe that the Master is indeed at present planning some new devilment?" "We fear so, yes." "And do you know what it is?"

  "Only in part We think that he intends to oppose the King's policy of setting up one realm, a United Kingdom to replace the ancient kingdoms of Scotland and England." "Many oppose that I do not know that I myself favour it"

  "But not many are prepared to go as far as Patrick in opposing it, I warrant." That was the Mistress of Gray. "My husband seldom merely expresses his disfavours. He acts upon them. And in no small fashion." "And in this case, he has started to act?"

  'Yes. How far he has gone, I cannot tell. But he believes this policy to be the probable ruin of Scotland as an independent realm, the betrayal of all that Scots have fought for since the great Bruce. And, God knows, he may be right 1 He has I believe three principal fields of action. Here in Scotland-where he is forming a party, a strong party, to oppose union. In England, where he seeks to stir up the English parliament against it And in France, where he has friends in places of much influence." "So much? For one man to attempt?" 'Patrick ruled Scotland more than once, you will recollect. The power behind James's throne. And he does nothing by halves." "What can he gain from France?"

  "James sees himself the peace-maker of Christendom. He requires the good will of France. And France is Catholic Patrick would use Catholic support for maintaining the separate kingdoms." "Ah!"

  "Yes. If Scotland could be turned Catholic again, even only in name, there would be no support for James's policy in England, where they fear Catholics like Satan himself!" "I see. And you think this is possible?"

  "It matters not what I think. Or others. It is what Patrick thinks that is important. And few know what goes on below the surface, in matters of governance and rule, as does he." "Does the Earl of Orkney come into this?"

  "My brother? No. Such affairs concern him no whit. He is interested only in his own advantage. To be left to rule Orkney and Shetland as a small king-or misrule them. Untrammelled by law or aught else."

  "It is not Patrick Stewart you need concern yourself with, Geordie," Mary put in. "But Patrick Gray. He is as a rapier to a woodman's axe! Do you realise how strong the Catholic faction has become since the King went to London? James used it to keep the Kirk in its place-and now it holds the real power here. And indeed works with the extreme Kirk ministers. It dominates both the Privy Council and the Court of Session-Dunfermline, Balmerino, Montrose the former Chancellor, Argyll, Linlithgow, Crawford, Glamis, Ogilvy. These do not call themselves Catholic, but are. Then there are the true Catholics, who never renounced the Papacy-Huntly, the Lieutenant of the North, Erroll, the High Constable, Angus, Maxwell, Sanquhar, Fleming, Seton, the Chancellor's brother, and many more. And all the Highland chiefs. Many of these hate each other. Some are at feud. Few have ever worked together. But if Patrick can unite them, even for a little…!" "And is he in touch with English Catholics also?"

  "No-not so, I think," the Lady Marie said. "It is the English Protestants he is concerned with. Particularly those in parliament To some he sends money…"

  "Money! The Master does? To bribe English parliament men will cost him dear! Pounds Scots will not go far with them!" "That is true. Patrick is spending money like water! Getting it wherever he may. Selling lands, raising loans…"

  'This is why he wanted the King's debt repaid, after so long? To bring low the King's policy!"

  "Yes. That is but one small source. He needs a deal more than that-for this is costly work, with more than the English parliament votes to buy! He needs money-and, being Patrick, does not scruple overmuch how he gets it, I fear. Many in Scotland owe place, position, lands, titles to him, when he stood at the King's right hand Now they must pay for it-for he knows secrets without number."

  "Ha-more of the black mail! It is not only my lord of Orkney, then, who knows how to use such. The Casket Letters? Does the Master have them
now? Are they also for use in his campaign?"

  The Lady Marie shook her head. "I do not know. I know nothing of these, save what Mary has told me. Patrick has never spoken of them-though they were in my father's care once, I understand." "But… if he has them, would the Master use them also?"

  "How can I tell? I think not, perhaps. If they endanger the King's right to his thrones. That might not serve Patrick's purpose, I think."

  "I agree," Mary said. "Moreover, I believe he would be loth to assail the King in person, too hard, as yet. Until, until he succeeds his father. As a Lord of Parliament. It is within the King's power to declare him infamous, and to forfeit him from this, his birthright. He will not wish for that-for to be a peer of Scotland would give him more power. James has dropped him from the Privy Council. But as a Lord of Parliament, and Sheriff of Forfar, he would be entitled to a seat again. He could then dominate the Council, as he used to do."

  "I see. So you would expect the old Lord Gray, your grandfather, not to live for much longer? But while he does, the King is safe from the worst of the Casket Letters?"

  "Something of the sort. Granlord-I have called him that since a child-has been a sick and ailing man for long. He is very old, all but witless now. This last year he is so much the worse…"

  "And so the Master, his son, turns him out of his own house I To speed his father's passing I"

  "It is not quite so," the Lady Marie declared, quietly but firmly. "Although Patrick's enemies so represent it My good-father has been but a poor creature these many years, living close in Broughty Castle, seeing none but members of the family, attended to at Patrick's charges. He and my husband have little love for each other, I admit-but there has been no mistreatment. Now Patrick needs Broughty Castle-no doubt for this campaign of his. It stands on a headland on the coast, with its own secure haven, convenient for the coming and going of ships and messengers, secretly, by sea. From England and France. It has a ferry to Fife. Meetings can be held therein, with none knowing. Unlike Castle Huntly, our home. The old lord's presence there became difficult, an embarrassment. Not so much for his own sake, but in that his other sons visit him. And one of them, in especial, hates Patrick, and would do him disservice. So Patrick removed his father to another house inland-the House of Gray, indeed, near to Liff. A smaller place, but a deal more comfortable. That is all."