Game of Kings - Dorothy Dunnett [205]
Erskine kicked something at his feet. “Is that your baggage roll?”
“Yes.”
“And this, which was in it, is your letter?”
Without speaking, Lymond accepted the papers Erskine held out—papers which, as Erskine and Culter both knew, gave in detail the plans for the Queen’s escape to France.
He took a long time over the pages, his eyes staying a moment, unseeing at the foot; then he returned them. “Well?” said Erskine.
“The man with me: Acheson. Have you questioned him about these?” asked Lymond. “He’s locked up belowstairs.”
“Yes,” said Erskine. “We’ve seen him. He was carrying two letters from George Douglas about the safety of his sons. That’s all he’s got, and that’s all he knows about.”
“I see,” said Lymond slowly. “The obvious answer, of course. The classic escape from this kind of situation, as you know, is for each party to blame the other. In which case, I assume for safety’s sake that you’ll take him back home with you? I should strongly advise you not to let him out of your sight.”
“He put the papers in your baggage?” said Richard helpfully.
“Something like that. But let’s put it at its lowest. He knows the contents of the papers. So for God’s sake don’t admit him to your social circle just because you’re happy he’s given you a hold over me.”
“And has he?” asked Erskine—and misinterpreting the ensuing pause added, “Well?”
“Well enough for everybody’s purpose,” said Lymond without passion. “One crime more or less isn’t going to deter Richard now.”
It was treated as an admission; there was a murmur of abuse and contempt, irresistibly, and someone spat. Erskine turned his back on the younger man and addressed Richard again. “That being so, you have a public reason for bringing this man to trial here and now. You also have private reasons?”
“Yes.”
“What are they?”
Richard was silent, his jaw doggedly set.
“State them,” said Erskine sharply. “If this is to be trial by combat, the defendant has a right to hear your complaint.”
Lord Culter said, speaking very fast in a low voice, “He has degraded our family name … committed theft and arson and attacked a guest beneath my roof. He has tried to take my life repeatedly.”
Lymond made a sudden movement, apparently involuntarily, and the gesture restored Richard’s voice. He said quite clearly, “He has dishonoured my wife and killed my only son.”
Nobody spoke. Between man and man the sunlight hesitated, sparkling, and sank to the floor with the languishing dust. Gideon bit his lip. “What have you to reply?” asked Erskine.
Lymond’s voice was undramatic and his face unreadable. “Your choice is between executing me here or in Edinburgh. I will not fight.”
Erskine had begun to say, “Do you admit, then …” when Richard interrupted. “Wait a moment. Let us all have it clear. If one of us fails to fight, it means he admits he has no honour to defend?”
“That is the usual interpretation.”
“In other words, that he admits the truth of the charges against him. Do you freely admit to treason, brother? To murder and rape? Fratricide as near as may be?”
“I admit none of it.”
“Yet you won’t fight. You admit your—connection with my wife?”
“No!”
“And yet you won’t fight. You admit that you deceived that girl upstairs into becoming your blind and complaisant mistress, and then killed her when you tired of it?”
Erskine’s voice clashed harshly with Lymond’s. The Master’s prevailed through sheer bite. “You uncivilized maniac: that’s a damnable lever to use.”
“If you won’t defend your story, we must assume it’s true.”
“You can assume,” said Lymond, stirred at last into straight speaking, “that I’m trying to prevent you from getting your bloody throat cut; that’s all.”
“You imagine,” said Richard, his voice rocketing between prayerful hope and excitement, “that you could fight me and survive?”
“I could see you drop dead this minute from paralysis of the brain cells and burst into uninhibited applause. I had nothing to do with Christian Stewart’s death, nor did I touch her when she was alive. I’ll defend that, damn you, against anybody. Set up your tin-foil trial and try and