Disorderly Knights - Dorothy Dunnett [241]
His face pale, the fire of appeal in his blue eyes, Graham Malett turned to the Dowager. ‘Forgive me,’ he said again. ‘But you do not know what you are destroying. Will you not let us have this final chance? The King of France will receive a weapon for which he will be in your debt all his life. And I myself will stand surety for Mr Crawford until the expedition leaves.’
‘You are eloquent.’ The Queen Dowager was abrupt. ‘The force you have seen fit to mention may not set sail until autumn.’
‘Then will you not trust us, on my personal bond, until then?’
‘My God,’ said Lymond then, and the sheer incredulity of the tone betrayed, at last, the violence of his true feelings. ‘May I speak, do you think? I don’t recall having begged anyone to trust me, or to give me a last chance, or even to stand selfless bond to me. Nor do I negotiate at second hand.’
As suddenly as his temper flared, he had it controlled. ‘It is even possible,’ said Lymond thoughtfully, ‘that the Queen Dowager might have been about to put forward this proposal herself?’
There was a little pause. ‘Does this matter?’ said the Queen Dowager at length. Within each eyebrow was a sharp line of displeasure. She had not wished, Margaret guessed, for the matter of the French expedition to be raised yet in public. Sir Graham would earn a reprimand, whatever his rank, for that.
‘You are fortunate,’ said Mary of Guise to Lymond, ‘in having a friend so staunch, despite your discourtesy towards him. I put this to you at first hand therefore. Would you and your army join such an expedition, placing yourselves under my chosen leader’—(‘Cassillis,’ said Gabriel, quickly, in Lymond’s ear)—‘and undertake both to refrain from all fighting in the weeks before such an army would leave, and to accept as final my eventual decision as to whether you and your company should return?’
To Margaret’s amazement, Lymond appeared to be giving it thought. ‘If during this interval we were attacked, might we defend ourselves?’ he inquired.
‘If you could prove that you fought in self-defence. Understand her Grace,’ said le Seigneur d’Oisel et de Villeparisis forcefully. ‘There is to be no trouble while you wait at St Mary’s. You may help, yes. You may protect, yes. You may train as you wish, and prepare your arms. But no bloodshed. No hostile or criminal action. Or I shall be forced to muster my garrisons against you and, as her Grace has said, your men would be dispersed and you yourself taken into custody. As for the Scottish expedition, I can offer noble prosspects and no small fees. Details I cannot yet give, but I can assure you that the King’s Majesty’s wars will be renowned, and full of honour to be won.’
‘I am subjugated,’ said Lymond drily.
‘You would agree to those terms?’
‘I should hate to disband Randy Bell,’ said Lymond. ‘The Flowers of the Forest would be Flowers no more.’
‘Do you agree?’
‘Yes,’ said Lymond cheerfully. ‘Provided that Sir Graham comes formally lawburrows that neither the Queen Dowager nor yourself will suffer for it. He’s standing surety, remember; not I.’
Soon after that, it was over. Adam Blacklock, informed by Gabriel of the outcome, packed his bags and took his leave to meet Lymond, as instructed, at the livery stables. Lymond, having brought his baggage from Creich that morning, was already there, leavetaking behind him. He had spoken warmly to Robert Beaton and Margaret Erskine, and fleetingly to Gabriel himself. Graham Malett was to stay at Falkland for some days yet. Then, as he mentioned with a kind of anxious deprecation, he was to return to St Mary’s to help Lymond maintain the Queen’s peace. He did not say, and Lymond did not discover, that early that morning he had had a guarded exchange with the departing Cormac O’Connor; nor did he mention the name of Oonagh O’Dwyer that day.
When Adam Blacklock got to the stables, a hundred questions stuttering to his tongue, Lymond was standing inside, next to his horse, reading a letter with one arm on the pommel. Beside him was a lad Adam knew well from the group