The Wisest Fool mog-4

by Nigel Tranter

  The first of the non-stop series of entertainments was already in progress, in the natural amphitheatre of a sunken garden, when the Heriots arrived. It took the form of a carnival of animals, the players dressed realistically in the skins or feathers of the various national beasts, supporters and emblems, or representations thereof, appertaining to the states of Christendom, decked with their national colours, all pacing and dancing and miming a succession of tableaux, these displaying the sequence of attitudes of the said realms, from challenge and outright war down to the present happy state of peace and amity. Much ingenuity had had to be evidenced, for there was a certain lack of variety amongst the nations' chosen beasts, eagles and lions, the kings of birds and beasts, tending to predominate-though some of the eagles were of the two-headed variety, and the lions were variously coloured. James himself, or at least his United Kingdom, naturally represented by the largest and noblest-looking lion, its coat gleaming with gold-dust; a nice touch, it remained throughout arm-in-arm with a pure white unicorn, upright and with a long silver horn. This symbolic parade and demonstration was to go on throughout the day, as reminder to all of what they were celebrating.

  There was no sign of James himself, so the Heriots and escort, two Yeomen staggering under the weight of the heavy chest, had to go searching the far-flung gardens and pleasure-grounds and then the endless corridors, courtyards and galleries of the vast palace, before finally running the monarch to earth in a disused kitchen of the domestic wing. Here, with the Palatinate ambassador and the new Viscount Rochester, he was busy assembling an elaborate dolls' palace which the envoy had brought as a gift for the Princess Elizabeth from his royal master, the Elector Frederick Henry-and which had come packed in sections and pieces, complete with furnishings, even to miniature pictures, hangings, carpets and tapestries. James was wholly engrossed in this intriguing task, despite the agitation of sundry officials and notables outside. He welcomed Heriot, but showed little interest meantime in what he called his last o' gewgaws'; but insisted that Geordie and his bit lassie, who were sure to have nimble fingers, should come and help with the task of assembly. It seemed that the tapestries were particularly ticklish to hang and the King's fingers blunt. The envoy from Cleves, who had tailed along with them, exclaiming at all, found himself saddled with a stable plus many model horses and coaches and ordered to sort it all out, Carr the while being catechised on the Latin names for all the items represented and alternatively slapped and kissed as a consequence of success or failure.

  This prolonged and fiddlesome process appeared as though it might well occupy the Crown for much of the day and Heriot took his turn in seeking tactfully to remind Majesty that many illustrious visitors and deputations were waiting, to say nothing of the full and elaborate programme of events devised for the occasion. James tutted all such interpretations away, with the sage counsel that one thing at a time was recommended policy; and Carr, laughing lazily, added that all would wait very nicely, since by God, it must.

  For how long the Palatinate dolls' house would actually have detained them, there was no knowing. But in time James's old favourite from Scottish days, James Hay, Viscount Doncaster, turned up in a sort of jocular bad temper, to declare that either Majesty came forthwith to the great dining hall to partake, or all the notable provision he had assembled-at the cost of three manors no less-would be taken to the stables and thrown to the pigs, since that would be all it was fit for. This ultimatum coming at a moment when James had slightly cut his finger with the tiny glass pane of a window-frame, to the effusion of alarming blood, had its effect and a move was made, jewel chest, escort and all.

  Doncaster had some reason and right to be thus firm. The King had devised a highly satisfactory arrangement whereby the cost of large and complex entertainments should not always fall entirely upon his own shamefully meagre Treasury. A relay of wealthy individuals were given the privilege of providing the banquets, the entertainers, the masques and scenery and so on- and moreover encouraged to be competitive about it Hay, although he had come south as poor as a church mouse, being only a younger son, had recently married his second rich wife, this one enormously rich, and was to be created Earl of Carlisle. Today the catering was his responsibility.

  On arrival at one of the many great dining halls, the newcomers, heralded at last by a trumpet fanfare, found the Queen, Prince Charles and Princess Elizabeth awaiting them, the former in no genial mood and the place packed with hungry guests, all separated from the groaning tables by a solid line of liveried servitors, cooks and scullions, in the red and white Hay colours. The King beamed on all-as well he might, for it was a most noble company, with a most noble spread laid before them. Hay had done them proud. From the dais at the top end of the great chamber, the royal party-which, purely by chance, included the Heriots, the hairless man from Cleves, the Yeomen of the Guard with chest and sundry other nonentities-could look down on a bewildering array of fare, delicacies, comestibles, viands, savouries, confections and dainties on tables stretching from one end of the hall to the other, piled high as a man could reach, on splendid plate, stands, epergnes, salver-frames and silver wiskets. There were the favoured dishes from every realm and country represented at the gathering, besides as many from stranger lands farther afield, the Indies, Barbary, Arabia, the Caliphate, even from frozen Iceland, meats and sweets formed in the lively shapes and colourings of the animals, birds, fish and vegetables from which they were concocted, cauldrons and puncheons of rare wines and spirits, some actually contrived to be on fire with blue licking flames, a half-sized cow squirting thick cream from its udder and other conceits too numerous to mention.

  The King nodded approvingly, "Aye, Jamie Hay-a right comforting provide," he commended. 'Your new Viscountess maun hae mair than just double-chins and a noble bum. Yon looks right tasty. Eh, Annie? It's maybe worth having yon Cardinal-man to say a grace ower this lot, I'm thinking. Where is he?"

  "Wait, Sire-of your gracious patience," Doncaster intervened, with much boldness. "One moment more-and it please Your Majesties." And he banged a gold ladle on a piece of plate as a signal.

  Immediately all was transformed. Like a regiment of maniacs the hitherto so disciplined and motionless line of servants hurled themselves upon the laden tables. Grabbing up the piled dishes and platters of meats and confections, they flung all to the floor at the far side of the tables, in a rain of ruined refections, smashed sweets, damaged delicacies and spilt spirits, spattering the wall-panelling, piling up in heaps, spreading over the floor. On and on the servants went, as though frenzied, while the great company shouted and yelled and groaned, even wept, in pain and fury, until there was not a dish nor sweet nor receptacle left on the line of tables. Pandemonium reigned. Then, with the enraged guests surging forward and the attendants turned to fight them off, a single trumpet-blast sounded, the hall doors were thrown open, and, led by fiddlers playing a jigging Scots air, in marched a new and seemingly endless regiment of cooks and scullions bearing trays, salvers, platters, cauldrons, flagons, larger and finer model animals, birds and fishes, soups steaming richly, a whole ox roasted, still with its horns and hooves, peacocks with spread tails and a host of similar provisions, to more than fill those emptied tables. And, bringing up the rear, carried by four young pages all in white satin, was a twice-life-sized naked woman, sculpted in sugar, flesh-tinted, nipples coloured, hair contrived, where proper, in gold-leafed toffee tendrils.

  The shouting and anger changed to cheering and acclaim. James Hay bowed to the King and Queen and waved and grinned to all the guests, before, with a flick of his hand, dismissing the army of domestics.

  "Aye, maist ingenious," James declared, a little breathlessly. "But a fell waste o' meats, man!"

  "It is called the ante-dinner, or double-dinner, Sire. As they do it in the Papal States, I understand. With, h'm improvements I"

  "Is that so? Well-we'll no' trouble the Cardinal-man, this time, but just set to-in case you breenge it a' awa' again. You've f ah se
t my belly rumbling."

  ***

  When none could eat more and before a similar stage was reached with the wines, James presented his gifts, Heriot assisting and identifying. Clearly he gained much satisfaction from the exercise, especially from the little speech he made, with each item, in the language of its recipient, a feat certainly no other prince of Christendom could have rivalled. Whether all the happy assignees were able to understand the wet and thick-tongued allusions, in the rich Scots accent, was another matter. Of quite a number of the items James asked Heriot the cost, sotto voce, in the process, and, when sufficiently impressed, passed on the information like-wise with the gift.

  When this was over, a move was made outside, to view the succession of masques, spectacles, tableaux, mimodramas and set pieces in the gardens-although only with reduced numbers of spectators, it is to be feared, strange and exotic liquors having had some equally strange effects, especially on top of some of the more ratified dishes. Some of the entertainments were allegorical, epic, historical or moral, Messrs. Jonson, Jones and Campion having been given more or less a free hand; but others were merely diverting and catered for all tastes. The King's own tastes were catholic, and he appeared to get as much enjoyment out of a piece wherein a lot of little boys disguised as bottles danced and capered round a man in the guise of a great tun, spewing out coloured water as wine, as over an elaborate and erudite charade by Sir Francis Bacon, wherein Peace and Plenty cast their generous offerings before His Pacific Majesty in the shape of a crowned lion, with War, represented by a most loathsome dragon, being continuously stabbed, to the effusion of large quantities of red blood, by a succession of angel-knights with handsome wings sprouting from their shining armour.

  As ever, of course, the King began to tire of all this, sooner rather than later and commenced to steer his party gradually towards the large lake where, on an islet, only reachable by tw0 available gondolas, a special pavilion had been erected amongst the trees and stocked with bottles, flagons and playing-cards. Since the gondolas only held four each at most, in addition to the gondoliers, a considerable weeding-out of hangers-on was expeditiously achieved, with Robin Carr instructed, in stage-whispers, whom to include. Some of the most successful gamblers in two kingdoms, more especially the northern one, largely new viscounts but including the English Earls of Montgomery and Southampton, were duly ferried across to the island in relays, whilst Carr was sent in search of the wealthiest known guests, to invite, also in relays, as a mark of especial royal esteem, to make brief pilgrimage to the shrine.

  At this stage, George Heriot conceived his duty done and melted away into the shrubbery, to go in search of Alison who had remained with the Queen.

  It was early evening, with the thought of the fourteen-mile barge-journey down-river beginning to exercise his mind and Alison about to seek formal permission to leave the Queen's entourage, that Heriot learned that his liege lord had not yet, in fact, finished with him for the day. He learned it from the supercilious lips of Carr, Viscount Rochester, no less, sent in person to find and conduct him to the island. They made a silent journey of it Only one gondola survived-the other apparently having sunk without trace-and at both the little jetties and at the pavilion entrance Yeomen stood guard. Within the tent was a picture of chaos. Tables were overturned, bottles, flagons and tankards lay everywhere, playing-cards littered the trampled grass and, amidst all, bodies snored and twitched and grunted. Three men remained upright, all Scots-James himself, at the head of a table, James Hay, Viscount Doncaster, at one side of him and John Ramsay, Viscount Haddington, at the other; although admittedly the Archduke Albert of Hapsburg remained approximately in his chair but sprawled helplessly across the swimming table. Beside the three Scots were sizeable piles of specie, gold pieces, rings, jewelled brooches, crosses of knightly orders and, Heriot was interested to note, sundry of the costly gifts he had so carefully manufactured for this day. The King, beaker in hand, waved genially. "Aye, Geordie- come you. Drink a cup o' wine wi' me. Whaur hae you been hiding yoursel’?" His voice was neither thicker nor more slurred than usual. "I have latterly been talking with His Highness the Prince of Wales, Sire. In his room."

  "You have?" James nodded. "Dutious. Aye, my Annie would send you there. She has a notion our Henry will die, has Annie. Think you so, Geordie?"

  Heriot swallowed. "I… I do not know, Sire. But-God forbid! I am no physician. He seemed brighter, stronger, I thought"

  "Aye, he's bright, all right Ower bright, maybe, the laddie. I hope he doesna die, Geordie." "No, She. I pray that he will not"

  "Aye-you pray. But meantime, come you and sit by me. Here. Johnnie, Jamie-up wi' you. Off! You too, Robin Carr-out! I want a word wi' my Fiduciary. Aye, and you can leave the winnings where they are see you-they'll come to nae harm in Geordie Heriot's care!"

  When the other three had bowed themselves out, leaving only the unconscious drunks, James gestured to the three heaps of spoil. 'You hae yon kist o' yours, some place? Och, it'll no' need to go back toonl And, here." He dug into a pocket of his padded doublet for a bunch of crumpled papers. "Some notes o' hand, just. There's one for seven hundred pounds frae Philip Montgomery. You'll ken better than I do whether his credit will stand it? But, och-we'll no' can be too hard on the laddie, mind. And here's one for eight thousand, five hundred guilders frae yon fat Dutchman. I dinna ken how much that is-you'll hae to work it out for me, Geordie. You'll see to it a'?" 'Yes, Sire. A, a profitable afternoon!"

  "Ooh, aye. Though, mind, a guid head for the liquor is the main thing. Never play the cartes wi' a birling heid. One thing we Scots can teach them, eh? Och, but you dinna play them anyhow, do you?"

  "No, She. Money is my trade, not my amusement So I respect it."

  "Nae mah'n do I, lad-nae mair'n do I. And dinna sound sae a'mighty smug. Na, na-sit still. Dinna go yet, man. I've news for you. Frae Scotland. Right interesting news." "Good news, Sire? Or ill?"

  "That's maybe a matter o' opinion. You, now-you, I jalouse, hae something o' a shamefu' liking for yon rogue Patrick Gray, hae you no'?"

  "Gray? I do not rightly know, Sire. I admit he is a very dangerous man. And too clever, by far. But he has his points, too. A, a strange urbanity. His principles may be but ill ones-but he holds to them."

  "You think so? He has aye held to treasons, rebellions, plots, subornings, betrayals. If you can ca' such principles! Piracy, too -wrecking. Hae you heard tell what he and thae graceless kin o' mine in Orkney hae been at? Changing the beacons on the islands that guide the ships, to lure in honest mariners to the rocks. So they can plunder them. For money and arms and gear to raise rebellions against me I To pay for French arms. Aye, but the French ships get in safe enough! Devils, they are-just devils. The wet sea! But-och, I've put a spoke or two in that wheel, to be sure."

  "There has been talk of this of arms, mercenaries, from France, invasion and the like, for long now, Sire. And little to show for it. Think you it is in truth anything more than a tale? Put out by Gray, no doubt. For his own ends. To alarm, win over faint-hearts, gain concessions perhaps…?"

  "Och, aye-it's mair'n a tale, Geordie. I ken fine what's been going on. It's maybe no sae great a matter as has been made out- but invasion was planned, to be sure. Much arms sent I've a wheen folk wi' sharp ears in France, as well as had Patrick, mind." James shrugged those grotesquely padded shoulders. "But-a' that's done wi'. By wi', man. There'll be nae invasion, now. Nae uprising and fell insurrection in my auld realm o' Scotland. We can a' sleep quiet in our naked beds, now, Geordie. For the man's deid." "Dead…?" Heriot stared.

  "Aye, just that. Deceased. On his way to hell, belike! Mind you, I'll miss him."

  "But… but… you mean the Master? Lord Gray? Gray- dead?"

  "Patrick, aye. Verra sudden."

  The other moistened his lips and looked round that shambles of a pavilion, as though for means of escape. "I cannot… take it in, Sire!" he muttered. "Patrick Gray! He was, I think, no older than am I. And of excellent health
. How-how did he die?"

  "It seems to have been fell sudden. The hand o' Almighty God, nae doubt. It aye catches up wi' evil doers, sooner or later, mind. A stroke, they tell me. Aye, a stroke, just"

  "Not the stroke of steel! Or bullet?"

  "No' so as I've heard tell. In his bed, in his ain house o' Castle Huntly. Ooh, aye-the Lord's ways are wonderfu' and mysterious for to behold."

  "The Earl of Dunbar died in his bed, also, Sire, did he not- equally mysterious and wonderful! A strange… coincidence!"

  "So it is, Geordie-so it is. I hadna thought on that But-a' for the best, mind. Patrick had had his day-like Doddie. Time they moved on, I'm thinking. For the weei o' the realm. Aye- aut non tentaris aut perfice!"

  There was silence in that tent for a little, save for the snorings and gruntings.

  'You seem hard stricken, Geordie-over one o' your lord's enemies!" the King observed presently but not censoriously. "I reckon you had a soft side for the man. So had I, mind-so had I. Or is it Vicky's lassie, Mary Gray, you're consairned for? Or my bonnie cousin Marie. Your sentiments do you credit, Geordie. But… the women will get ower it Like the rest o' us."

  "I, I just cannot seem to accept it, Sire. There is something amiss, here."

  'You think so? Mind, if it hadna been our Vicky in charge up there, I'd hae let my mind dwell on the thought o' poison, maybe! But, och-Vicky wouldna do sic like a thing. No' wi' Mary Gray in it And Vicky is a right honourable duel, you'll agree? Na, na-we can rule out poison, eh? It's just the hand o' God, as I say."

  Heriot looked his royal master in the eye, and said nothing.

  "Sae that's it, Geordie. That's my news. And a' will be a deal better in Scotland, now-nae doubt o' that There's no' another Patrick Gray. My Orkney kin will sink like pricked bladders, wi' him gone! So simple a solution, eh? Simple, aye. It gars you think! Waesucks-maybe we're no' simple enough often enough. Aye, well-awa' wi' you, Geordie-and meditate on the ways o' the Lord!"