Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [257]
‘What?’
Vintage Julius. He added, ‘Isn’t that bad luck at sea? Like pigs and whistling?’
She said, ‘Leithie seemed to think the sailors could stand it. And it has Tobie’s imprimatur.’
‘Tobie isn’t on board?’ Julius asked. His voice was annoyed as well as derisive.
‘No,’ Gelis said. She said, avoiding other disclosures, ‘Are you watching the signals? If things go wrong, we are going to be very busy indeed.’
BLACKNESS, OF COURSE, was to be Howard’s main objective. He agreed with King Edward. It was the port by which arms and fortification material reached Linlithgow, only four miles away. It was an important alternative to Leith harbour, twenty miles to the east. The fortress itself controlled the whole area, including the seaway to the King’s other castle at Stirling. Capable of being provisioned by water, it was one of the few strongholds which, like Dunbar, could be taken and held by an enemy garrison, almost without limit of time. And today, forced to spread its men and artillery on both sides of the river, the Scottish command must have judged it necessary to reduce the strength of Blackness.
He surged up, banners flying, on the tide. Around him, in his ship and the others, the landing-boats were prepared and the men waited, armed and eager, to land. From the castle, as they neared, he saw two flags run up. One was the sheriff’s, someone told him. The other he had seen before, at the wedding of Duke Charles of Burgundy: that curious chequer, not unlike the flag of the Stewarts, and signifying also the role of the steward, the tax-collector; the man of finance.
Anselm Adorne. Howard experienced surprise. The man, a known supporter of the Knights of St John, had cast his lot, then, with King James. And on the very spot where that great Order had supported Edward of England against the ruffian Wallace, who had occupied their own place at Torphichen. But then, look at Commynes. Loyalty—and he valued it—had to give way sometimes to what was due to one’s name.
His ships took up their positions, dropped sails, and anchored. The holding was less good than he had hoped. They were there to present their guns to the fort, and to cover the disembarkation. He prepared to give the order to fire. As if it had been heard by someone else, the face of the fort became covered with smoke. There came a series of thuds, loud enough to make his helm ring. And a series of balls crashed into the rigging and masts of his ships.
His own guns were already replying, their balls chipping the low curtain wall, the thick stone face, the rock of the fortress. The air was dense with smoke, and with shouting, and the noise of the still-falling wreckage. The lowering of the boats had momentarily stopped and he waved it on. No matter what happened, these men would land. And anyway, guns of that size took time to reload.
This was correct. He hadn’t expected that Blackness would have not one line of cannon but two, nor that when his men leaped on shore, a crackle of handgun fire would come from the long landward wall. This wasn’t a siege. He had no sows or catapults with him. These men couldn’t wait to be overrun by troops from Linlithgow. They had to storm the fortress now, and take it, fast.
He withdrew and stood off, one sail in tatters, as his guns prepared to repeat their fire. A vessel behind him had been dismasted: it would have to be trimmed and then taken in tow. At the foot of the castle something was beginning to burn. His land force—good men!—had set fire to the great barge at the pier, and at least one other boat alongside it. The fire rose like a curtain, blowing out in the strong, squally wind which was fighting the pull of the river and threatening to drag them all further from shore.
He gave orders for the sweeps to be redoubled. His men were on land. He trusted them. They were well led, by the man who would captain the garrison once they got in. But they were not going to throw their hearts over the wall under all that gunfire if, looking over their shoulders, they thought they saw their