Game of Kings - Dorothy Dunnett [256]
In the clear, unemphatic voice he had used throughout, the Master said, “In 1542 I became a prisoner in France, and from then until 1544 was employed on travaux forcés in the French galleys. In March, 1543, I rowed in the ship which took the Earl of Lennox from France to Scotland, and was seen there by him. In September of that year I was also on the galley which conveyed gold and arms from France for the Queen Dowager. I escaped and applied for protection to Lennox, who I had reason to believe was preparing to defect from his Scottish friends and would therefore receive me. As you know, he sold his loyalty to Henry of England in return for marriage with Margaret Douglas, and left Scotland for England in May of the following year, having appropriated for himself the gold delivered to his keeping from France.
“Between those dates I stayed with him as secretary and general amanuensis, leaving rather suddenly with a good deal of information and a good part of the gold. I returned some of it by devious ways to Edinburgh; the rest I used as best I could in the Queen’s interests. I also established and armed my own force until by our services elsewhere in Europe we became more than self-supporting.… I am conscious, of course, that there is no proof of these events, except that I can in some cases give you the dates on which part of the French money was returned.”
It was audacious, all right. The eyes of the room, like sucking fish, were flatly attached to him, building up eager pressures which slopped over as soon as he halted.
Buccleuch gave a yelp. “Lennox’s money! Dod, he’s never been known by man to pook a penny before now. I’d like to have seen the colour of him when he found out.”
The Lord Advocate said, projecting his voice, “This troop you mention is of course the subject of a civil crime action also raised against you on the grounds of robbery and extortion—”
“Protection,” corrected the Master. “In these lawless times we private forces must help the State to ward its citizens where we can.”
Lauder said dryly, “The forces in question seem to have mixed opinions on the subject; but that is by the way. Your motives throughout in your dealings with Lord Lennox were again, we are to take it, completely altruistic throughout?”
There was a faint smile in the experienced eyes. “Only to a human and limited extent. If I hadn’t cultivated Lord Lennox’s company I should be rowing up and down the Irish Sea yet, instead of being presently charmed by your society.”
“I see,” said Henry Lauder. “And by the same token: when you presented Lord Grey with a secret of some national importance about our shipping, you were merely ingratiating yourself with his lordship?”
Because all his attention was on Lymond, he missed George Douglas’s faint movement. He had brought out, underhand, one of the vital issues, and his opponent was fully aware of it. Come along, my boy! said Mr. Lauder happily to himself. Fight me!
He did. This was not a matter of doubtful history, four years old; but a question of treason freshly committed and subject to minute examination. The Hexham episode was eviscerated.
“… The dispatch was being taken to Lord Grey by a courier called Acheson. I knew nothing of it until it was shown me on the way to Hexham.”
“Mr. Erskine? You can corroborate that?—Come along. Did Mr. Crawford know nothing of the dispatch?”
“He …”
“Will you speak up?”
“He denied it at first, but when we showed it to him—”
“Showed it to him? Where had you found it?”
“In his packroll.”
“And did he continue to protest his ignorance even then? … Well?”
“No.”
“He admitted it?”
“I think it’s unlikely he knew about it. He prevented the message from being delivered at great personal risk.”
“Ah, yes,” said Henry