Game of Kings - Dorothy Dunnett [278]
Huntly moved. Mary of Guise folded her hands without looking at him, but a fibre entered her voice which was not there before, and her gaze hardened over them all.
“I am aware,” she said, “that to most of you—to most of the people who fight for me and against me, and for and against the Protector—the royal line is a certificate of birth, and a circlet of metal; a pawn astray on her own board and more used to domination and a ruthless handling than the weakest of her subjects.
“To me, it is a little girl, fresh and warm, holding surprises and knowledge and happy years in her palms. When armed invaders come and men die and are captured and plot and betray, she is still a small girl, crying because she has wakened in the night.” Her eyes dropped for a moment to her hands and her lip trembled for a moment, and then became firm.
“By all your efforts this year you have kept the Scottish crown safe from capture—yes, of course. What I remember, I, is that you have won me a year of my daughter’s company.
“The last year, perhaps. She is safe. You, sir, with courage, kept the secret that allowed her ships to sail. Yesterday the wind moved from the south: autumn is coming, and a colder season perhaps than we have known yet. Yesterday my daughter set sail from Dumbarton: with Lord Livingstone and Lord Erskine, with her brother, with Fleming, Beaton, Seaton and Livingstone and Lady Fleming, she set sail for France, to live there and, in time, to marry the Dauphin.
“… Some will say, we should have admitted England, this importunate bridegroom; and kept unspilled blood and whole hearths for our dowry. I think not. I hope that we are choosing wisdom as well as pride, and a long peace as well as a quick harbour.”
“And England?” It was Lord Culter’s voice.
“The King of France has taken this kingdom in perpetual shelter. He will demand of England peace between our three nations; and that all enmity between England and Scotland should cease.”
Outside, dawn had come, pale and wind-torn, with stars set tardily in its brightness. In the yellow glare of the lights, Lymond’s gaze had turned to his brother. “So they lose, after all,” he said. “All the King’s knights. Lord Grey and Lord Wharton, Lennox and Somerset, Wilford and Dudley, Sir George Douglas, Angus and Drumlanrig. Such plotting and striving and discomfort and distress; so much gold spent; so many peoples moved across the face of Europe to confront us. It’s a sad thing to woo with cannon and to lose.”
Mary de Guise had her mind as well as her eyes bent on the intent, fair face below her. “I wonder, are you with me?” she said.
The guarded eyes lifted instantly. “Yes … I think so. There is a divine solution, but we are only human, and Scots at that. Which means we dote on every complexity.”
“And what award shall we give you,” said Mary de Guise gravely, “for all you have done for us? Apart from the unqualified love of my daughter?”
Lymond’s charming smile entered his blue eyes as he stood, experienced and passive, before her. “I have no other desires, and can imagine none.”
“No?” said the Queen Dowager, and rising, swept Francis Crawford out of the room, ignoring her statesmen stumbling in surprise to their feet; leaving Richard faintly smiling and Lauder cursing with determination. “No other desires? Au contraire. There are some that I shall expect to find out and one, assuredly, that I know,” said the Queen with decision; and opened a door.
In a lifetime of empty rooms, this was another.
Then there was a whisper of silk, a perfume half remembered, a humane, quizzical, intuitive presence; and a wild relief that deluged the tired and passionate mind.
Sybilla was there. She saw her son’s eyes, and flung open her arms.
Reader’s Guide
1. For discussion of The Game of Kings
The Game of Kings is the first of six books in the Lymond series based on the imagery of chess. Who would you say are the gamesters in this novel? Do the kings “play” the game or are they pieces in the game? Given the way suspense is created and information hidden, how is the novelist