Checkmate - Dorothy Dunnett [111]
Lymond said, ‘I take it my brother is causing you trouble. I’m afraid he will continue to cause you trouble. Nothing, I assure you, would induce him to ransom me. And equally, nothing would induce me to accept any favours.’
‘I am sure,’ said Lord Grey, ‘you would face most stoically a lifetime of prison. I am sorry you feel your brother would do nothing to help you. It occurred to us that the rest of your family might feel differently. And if the money is offered to us, we should have no qualms on your behalf in accepting it.’
‘So I go to Spain,’ said Lymond thoughtfully, ‘or you beggar my family?’
‘You claimed once,’ said Lord Grey, ‘it was Russia your mind was set upon.’
The hard blue eyes did not avoid his. ‘Even for me,’ Lymond said, ‘the price is too high.’
They looked at one another. Outside the door, Lord Grey knew Myles was standing, obediently, to prevent any untimely interruption.
‘There is other coin,’ said Lord Grey of Wilton carefully.
A smile, irritatingly understanding, broke upon Francis Crawford’s mobile, discoloured face. He rose to his feet and looked down, still smiling, at his noble enemy. ‘And in the land of Ham for them, Most wondrous woorkes had done? You spoke of two choices only.’
‘There is a third,’ said the thirteenth baron of Wilton. ‘It is my own suggestion but I am prepared, on certain assurances from yourself, to guarantee that King Philip will sanction it.’
‘Assurances?’ said Lymond gently.
‘Indeed. And of a kind which may not be to your liking, unless you have deceived the French as thoroughly as you deceived my unfortunate nephew at Douai. I shall suggest to you the means by which, without money, you may obtain your freedom. In return, I shall require you, enable you, and if necessary compel you, Mr Crawford, to travel to Russia, and stay there.’
‘Dear me,’ said Francis Crawford. His eyes, resting on those of his captor, bore an expression Grey could not identify. Then he said, ‘Was that an inspired guess? I am almost as anxious to leave Europe, my dear Lord Grey, as you seem to be to remove me. Therefore faisons de fueille cortine et s’aimerons mignotement. I am prepared to give you your assurance. I promise, once free, to abandon Spain, France and Scotland in favour of Russia. Provided, of course, that the mitigated price of my freedom is still not beyond me. In place of money, what do you wish of me?’
‘Information,’ said Grey. He had risen too, and stood by the desk, his patrician fingers lightly clasped at his back, the gold of his chain glinting over the paned yoke of his jerkin. ‘But of a most exhaustive nature. What money the French king has raised. What troops he has, and where they are stationed. His intentions in Italy. His intentions in Lyon. His intentions in Lorraine. And finally, of course, his fullest plans for his present campaign in Champagne and Picardy. Whether he intends to disband his troops or place them in winter quarters. Whether he means to try and retake these forts or strike elsewhere, and when and how. His plans for Calais and Gravelines and Guînes. Tell us these things,’ said Lord Grey. ‘Convince us that what you tell us is truthful, and you shall have funds, baggage, servants, safeconducts and conveyances which will see you in Moscow by springtime.’
‘And so,’ said Lymond unexpectedly, ‘the knot has got to the teeth of the comb.’ His eyes were on the tiled floor where, here and there, the pattern had worn down to the terracotta.
‘You hesitate?’ said Lord Grey mildly. ‘With a kingdom awaiting you?’
‘I might,’ said Lymond, ‘make my kingdom Hispania. I wonder if you have thought of that?’
Lord Grey smiled. ‘Under Ruy Gomez? Under Alva? Under Arras? You would be dead of a draught, or a stabbing, before the year was well out. Mr Crawford, I have no fear that you will follow the monarch to Spain. I think your prospects in France are less golden than perhaps once you were led to believe. Give me the information which will allow King Philip to finish this war, and