Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [229]
Andreas said, ‘But Dr Ireland, my lord King?’ Beneath his grasp, and Cochrane’s, and the Burgundian’s, Mar kicked and swore.
The King paused. ‘When Dr Ireland has gone. I hold you responsible for my brother’s imprisonment until then. In chains, if necessary. He must not leave this house.’
‘I hear you, my lord King,’ said Andreas.
‘Then lock him up. Now. I will wait until you return.’
There was no alternative. Nicholas made a loose tie round the fallen man’s wrists, while Cochrane and Tobie eased him to his feet. He was talking continuously, while his eyes watered and mucus covered his lips. Clémence stood before him with a fine kerchief and tended him, neatly and kindly. Mar and his helpers disappeared, and only the helpers returned.
The King said, ‘Enough time has been wasted on this. I am glad you sent for me. It has allowed me to decide what to do. Roger: you will return. Your presence is needed at Court. De Fleury: I believe you were asked to entertain Dr Ireland. You will return with me, and do so. Dr Andreas: likewise, I have more need of your presence than my brother. I want you back at the Castle. Cochrane?’
‘I have work to do elsewhere, my lord,’ Tam Cochrane said. ‘I was leaving tonight. But my lord of Mar needs care, and someone to guard him.’
‘I will leave my guard,’ said the King. ‘And, of course, Dr Tobie, who has generously lent his house so that my brother may be adequately safeguarded.’
Nicholas said, ‘My lord, forgive me, but the Earl needs care day and night. It requires several men.’
‘That is nonsense,’ said the King. ‘My prisoners at Blackness and Berwick do not need day-and-night care. They are locked up. They are fed at prescribed intervals. They sleep. I have no more to say. I am leaving. Those I have mentioned will accompany me.’ The door opened, and the King led the way out.
The visit was over. The hoped-for remedy, the invocation of childhood, of family, had been a disastrous mistake. Whether James and his brothers were touched by a heritable sickness was not really an issue. The family was already split asunder by shared characteristics of a different kind.
Parting company with Nicholas at the Castle, Dr Andreas was bitter. Nicholas said, ‘You did all you could. He thinks a lot of your prophecies. The lion will be killed by a whelp.’
‘Even that he got wrong,’ Andreas said. ‘The prophecy didn’t mean Mar.’
‘How do you know?’ Nicholas said. ‘I didn’t think you still drew up charts. I hope you’ve done mine.’
‘Do you want an answer?’ said Andreas. ‘I couldn’t. I don’t know when you were born, or where. I don’t even know in which country.’
‘Good,’ said Nicholas. He believed him.
BECAUSE HIS WATCHERS were thus reduced, John of Mar was left for some time on his own, and no one thought to search his inner clothing, where he had pushed a shard of the goblet which he had taken from his brother the King. By the time the door was unlocked, several hours had elapsed since the young man had opened his veins; and his pulse was almost gone. Returned desperately to his side, the doctors fought for many hours to redeem him, but before dawn, he received the last rites from a chaplain from Holyrood, and died without opening his eyes.
The Chancellor was sent for, and arrived, his silver hair ruffled, his cheek creased from sleep. He looked at the body in silence. In death, the angry skin rash had withdrawn, and the long-nosed, bony face with its combed auburn hair held something of unaccustomed nobility in its stillness. He had been a Stewart. Avandale, of the same descent, crossed himself eventually and rose from his knees. ‘Poor lad. Poor lad. Whatever he did, it shouldn’t have ended like this. And, of course, so far as the world knows, it has not. So, what do we say?’
Nicholas had been there from the beginning, with Andreas. He said, ‘There will be talk, especially as the King was recently here. People may put it about that the King has got rid