Checkmate - Dorothy Dunnett [14]
On one side of him, Adam Blacklock sat quietly; long and brown and tougher in some ways than Jerott remembered him. And on the other, the short man with the hazel eyes and snub nose and drift of thin, sandy hair whom they had called Danny Hislop. A man more recently in Lymond’s employment, Jerott guessed, and still with an edge that could cut. And enjoying, of course, the expertise of it all.
‘Every family, I need not tell you,’ Lymond said, ‘has its wastrels. Those of yours have been extirpated. A great city, steadfast and loyal, can withstand that which would annihilate a divided one, and draws to herself, by her greatness, the succour of others.…’
The Captain-General from Russia stopped, and let his eyes travel over his audience from wall to wall. He had spoken without notes; his bearing relaxed, his hands still, his easy French conveying all the emphasis he required. He waited, and then said gravely, ‘Burghers of Lyon, you are standing upon a new battlefield. Philip of Spain has decided to capture this city. The Baron Nicolas de Polvilliers, a lieutenant of the Duke of Savoy and a disciple of the Bishop of Arras, has mustered two armies and is preparing to march with both to Bourg-en-Bresse, ten leagues from this spot. While King Philip’s army engages his Excellency the Constable’s forces in the north, Pollvilliers will advance upon Lyon.’
He paused. ‘Will you, as these eight traitors wanted, open your gates to him?’
Not the knife a second time, but the bludgeon. Stunned by the unexpectedness of it, Jerott heard the repercussion begin; the noise increase; the sharp voices of inquiry, of denial, of anxious disbelief.
Lymond held up his hand. ‘You ask how I know. I tell you, the monarch knows everything. You ask why I am here, and I will tell you. To seek out and punish the merchants who invited Polvilliers … You need not look at one another. It is done. The men were invited to Saint-Just last night and persuaded to confess. You may think it should not be long before they join their fellow traitors, there on the bridge-head. I shall read you their names.’
It was new to Jerott, but he believed it. Two of the arrested men were neighbours of his. He listened, absorbed, to the details. The enemy, it seemed, was on the march through the Franche-Comté.
Jerott said aloud, ‘But we have an agreement. The Franche-Comté has promised not to allow hostile troops through its territory.’
‘It’s being looked after,’ said Adam Blacklock. ‘The Swiss Cantons are to be reminded of their treaty also. We’re holding a Diet of Switzers to levy 8,000 and we’ll place them as soon as possible at Mâcon and Bourg as well as round Lyon. Part of the Piedmont force is on its way already. You’ll hear if you listen.’
Jerott heard. He listened to Lymond read out the formidable tally of the armies being brought to save Lyon. Discussions about the defence of the town had taken place already with their Consulat. Instructions would be posted: every citizen would be told how he or she could assist them. They, the responsible burghers of Lyon, had been informed first because on their resolution depended the safety of the city.
‘There will be no panic,’ said the King’s commander quietly. ‘There will be no evacuation of the city; and any man attempting to leave, or to send his goods or his money to safety, will, I assure you, be hanged. The King is not abandoning his city of Lyon to King Philip. If the enemy comes, he will find a defensible fortress, with about it an army which will die for you. For this, your King will strip himself of all but honour. He asks for your help, and trust. What more you can do, you may think of.’
‘How much?’ said Danny Hislop as they came down the steps with Blyth presently.
‘Imagination boggles,’ said Adam dreamily. ‘Two hundred thousand. At least. They’ll pour up to Saint-Just tomorrow with their moneybags.’
Danny smiled at the