Checkmate - Dorothy Dunnett [120]
They did not trouble to watch Austin Grey ride off alone over the marshes, to follow the few who had lived through that ambush. They crowded round Lymond’s horse, awaiting his commendation, which he gave them; and then obeyed Hislop’s orders and formed ranks ready for marching, having stripped the Englishmen of all their bodies could offer. Jerott, leaning over to cut Lymond’s bonds said, ‘Jesus Christ, your … The wire’s made a mess of your wrists. Are you all right?’ His face was red with anxiety.
‘Perfectly,’ Lymond said. ‘I am also filled with gratitude. Apart from risking the lives of two trained companies and four principal officers you have contrived to nullify an elaborate scheme which would have sent the entire Spanish army to Lorraine instead of to Calais. It only remains for us all to be caught on our way back to Compiègne, and you will be able to wallow in the fruits of unbridled, emasculated, inadmissible, un-military bloody romanticism.’
‘Such as,’ said Adam Blacklock unfairly, ‘the motive which took you back to Flavy-le-Martel in the first place? The trouble with you, M. le comte de Sevigny, is that you’re too god-damned autocratic. From now on, you will kindly remember that a good military tactician requires the support of a team. We are your team.’
There was a pause. Then Lymond looked at Archie, and before his gaze passed on to the rest, even Archie found himself flinching.
‘Why? You must have other interests?’ said Francis Crawford.
They made no answer because, after forty-eight hours of vigil on the sodden plateau for his sake, no possible answer existed. Only Archie Abernethy quietly took over his reins and said, ‘Oh, Mary Mother. Let us get you home.’
Chapter 8
A l’ennemy, l’ennemy foy promise
Ne se tiendra.
In the interests of the Duke de Guise’s winter campaign, the incident of M. de Sevigny’s brief capture and escape was not made public. As it happened, the Duke de Guise himself was unaware of the full implications of the event, which were known only to Lymond, his rescuers, and to Piero Strozzi, whom Francis Crawford went to see immediately on his return to Compiègne.
He made no excuses. ‘I may have wrecked the Calais campaign. I fed Willie Grey a cropful of spurious information about the forthcoming French attack on the Pale and was rescued before I could be forced to confess otherwise. It may be all right. They were already suspicious of me before we left. But if you want to tell de Guise, I shan’t stop you.’
‘What did you tell them?’
‘This,’ said Lymond, and tossed over a roll of paper. ‘I wrote it down so that you would know what to expect if by any chance Grey and the Spaniards take it all seriously.’
Piero Strozzi lifted the roll and read through it. Then retying it, he held it out in his ringed, powerful hand towards the man who had written it. ‘Take it,’ he said, ‘and destroy it. With that information you might fool Alva. You would certainly fool King Philip. But Lord Grey and the Duke of Savoy are thinking men. A spy who claimed to have just come from Calais should never have made all these blunders. Did you talk about alternative targets?’
‘No,’ said Lymond. ‘But I became very scathing whenever they mentioned Arlon or Luxembourg. That is where our feint ought to be.’
Piero Strozzi eyed him. ‘You came to me,’ he said. ‘But you have no real fears that they will act on the information you have sold them, and neither have I. Our prime objective remains Calais. We shall take a few extra precautions, that is all. And I see no need why this little history should travel beyond these four walls. Tête-Dieu, I told le Guisard that I was releasing two companies to try with your own men to rescue you for fear you told Grey too much about Calais. I didn’t know they would pull you out before you had told enough. What was the bribe? Russia?’
‘Obviously,’ Lymond said.
‘Obviously. But in that case, mon gars, why mislead them? Russia is where you wanted to rule.’
Lymond lifted his eyebrows. ‘Perhaps