Disorderly Knights - Dorothy Dunnett [236]
‘What?’ said Adam flatly.
‘You do not know,’ said Lymond drily, ‘how close I came to killing him.’
*
Later that evening Graham Malett called to reaffirm his warmly offered hospitality; and on his heels Robert Beaton with his sister Grizel.
Watching Lymond and Gabriel together in the empty inn common-room, Adam heard that he was to stay in Gabriel’s tall crooked house of St John, while Lymond lodged a dozen miles away at Beaton’s castle of Creich. Lymond’s audience would take place in the morning, Gabriel thought; and before the others arrived, the big knight, in his gentle voice, set himself to warn Lymond about this; about the Queen’s desire to rule Scotland for her daughter with French help; about her readiness to hand out favours to every faction and ease the discomfort of all, friend or enemy, who might help her achieve this end.
‘I’ve heard a rumour or two to that effect,’ Lymond said; and Gabriel struck his brow in despair. ‘Of course. Your brother is on the Council. And you probably knew the Queen Mother quite well in France.… I am a fool. It is childish. My head is being turned by the illusion that I am at the centre of great affairs, and the truth is that I am nothing of the sort: merely enjoying Jimmy Sandilands’s small shoes. I’m giving no more advice.’ And, smiling up at Lymond from the low arm where he had perched himself, Graham Malett touched him gently on the arm. ‘You are looking well. I’m glad. Thank God you are sleeping.’
There was a gloomy silence. Then, ‘At the moment, I rather wish I were,’ Lymond said, and removing his arm, walked to the tavern door where Blacklock was waiting, his colour high, to accompany Gabriel home.
Graham Malett stayed exactly as he was. ‘No. Isn’t it time we had all this out in the open?’ he said quietly. ‘Blacklock won’t mind. You feel I am a rival, Francis; some kind of contestant in your personal popularity stakes. It reaches such proportions now that you cannot sleep without imagining I am wresting your leadership from you.… You realize, don’t you, that if I had not arranged to have myself called away at intervals, such as now, you would have made yourself ill?’
‘Your consideration,’ said Lymond, ‘is infinite. O how dear are thy thoughts towards me, O strong God! How great is the sum thereof! I would recount them, but they are more than the sand; and Adam, I believe, is quite ready.…’
Graham Malett rose then to his full, golden height. ‘Francis.… You are St Mary’s. You and no other. It sounds trite, but it is precisely true. I don’t know your secret. There is no spiritual bond between you and your company: no common faith, no rites, no rules of chivalry. How is it done?’
‘Charm of personality,’ said Lymond. ‘Allied to a generous wage scale. Blacklock and I are quite convinced that you have no designs on St Mary’s. Do you mind if …?’
‘I mind,’ said Gabriel. He was rather pale. ‘God knows how I mind that you have no belief. You worship strength, do you not? Will you not believe that allied to faith, strength will increase itself tenfold? All the history of Holy Church proves it.’
Always before Lymond had resisted this particular challenge; always before he had remained outside Gabriel’s arguments, a tolerant neutral. Now he said, calmly, standing still before the inn parlour door, ‘History shows, too, great feats of endurance without mystery. What you leave undone, trusting to faith, you would be better to make sure of beforehand.’
‘I hope we all strive for perfection,’ said Gabriel. ‘Shoddy work earns no miracles, surely. But we are human. We can achieve so much only. With our knowledge of divine grace within us, we may become more than human, that is all.’
‘Why ascribe it all to the Divinity?’ Lymond asked. He was speaking very quietly, without passion, and although he appeared to have forgotten Blacklock’s presence, Adam wondered, suddenly if some part of this was intended for him as, the other day,