Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [302]
‘In Gaelic?’ Nicholas said. It was late. The day seemed to have lasted for ever.
‘Can you drink in Gaelic?’ she said. ‘Yes, I am sure that you can. Jordan will expect to go with you.’
‘We have had that conversation,’ he said. ‘He has agreed to stay and look after you.’
They were sitting opposite one another. She said, ‘You don’t need to say anything. I know you. If you didn’t do it, you wouldn’t be who you are. When do you go?’
‘Tomorrow morning,’ he said.
She flinched. It was so slight, you would have had to know her very well to notice it. He added, evenly, ‘I have to go quickly, or it’s no good. It should have been tonight, but I said that I couldn’t.’
When she still didn’t speak he said, ‘I just want to sit; and perhaps talk.’
‘I know,’ she said.
They talked; and presently, sat closer together; no more. Only very much later, in bed, did she sigh in his arms and say, ‘Let me give you something to keep.’
He had not known, until then, that their marriage had so changed, and so deepened. Whatever became of him now, his decision had brought him this gift.
Before nightfall next day, he had forded the Tweed at the castle of Carham, and had given himself up to the garrison, who expected him. They did not expect or observe a companion, particularly one so adept in fieldcraft as a French-trained broken-nosed Archer. Wherever he went, Nicholas was sure that Andro Wodman would follow.
BY THEN, THE decision had been made to call out the Scots army, beginning with the farthest-flung and most loyal contingents: those of Huntly and the Ogilvies and their friends who drew rents from the south, but whose homes lay in those rich, well-doing lands in the north and north-east. They were to arrive on the Burgh Muir just outside Edinburgh by the middle weeks of July.
On the March, the garrisons waited for orders. Some grew impatient. It displeased the Warden of the West March, in particular, to find that two of his Lochmaben garrison had left without sanction, riding east with a few mounted bowmen. Sometimes these men fought private wars. He hoped the father, at least, would have the sense to come back at once.
Chapter 39
Condampnit was as traytour thaim amang,
And was depryvit of his dayis mo,
Off his honour and of his lyf also.
FOREIGN MERCHANTS VISITING York tended to know the taverns at the two wharfsides and, more officially, the guild-houses and the merchant adventurers’ hall, and some of the churches where business was transacted. Nicholas knew about as much; rather less than he knew of Southampton or Newcastle or, certainly, London. He knew enough to be pleased when he was brought to St Mary’s by means of a boat and the water-gate, which meant that someone thought his identity worth concealing.
It had not been a particularly pleasant journey. His escort had been told to be polite, but this was probably the twentieth defector they had brought south since King Edward’s invitation, and the contempt showed, expressing itself in the officer’s aloofness, and in a little unchecked rough handling from the soldiers. He knew the route reasonably well for the first day: he had fought over it. He didn’t attempt to befriend anybody.
Most of the military leaders, he guessed, would be housed at the castle, or in pavilions close to the massed tents of the host, which he could hear and smell, but not count. The rumoured tally of twenty thousand did not seem unlikely.
The Duke of Gloucester was not in the castle, but enjoying the comfort of the Abbot’s guest apartments in the richest monastery of York. His flag flew above the roof of St Mary’s. There was no other flag, either ducal or regal. A wit brighter than Sandy’s, Nicholas thought, might have put up the three legs of the lordship of Man. See how I run.
He was placed in a well-furnished room, and a servant unpacked his saddlebags and laid out fresh clothing. He shut the door when the man left, but there was another on guard in the passage, with the white boar badge on his arm. Nicholas achieved an