Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [332]
It was too old an argument to pursue, and Tobie was silent. The difference was that, in this case, if their planning went wrong, people were about to die for an unreal cause. Some people argued, of course, that, if pursued fiercely enough, a myth—a dream—a misunderstanding—becomes real. Like Robin, hopelessly damaged, convincing himself and his friends he could manage. So, from today’s half-illusory patriotism might emerge a fervour, in thirty years’ time, that would bring a great national victory, rendering the next generation immortal, and sending songs of its fame round the world.
Moriz was watching him. Moriz said, ‘Don’t worry. There are more hard-headed merchants than patriots.’
John said morosely, ‘Aye. But the patriots are bigger.’
By that time they knew from Adorne’s courier that Nicholas was back, although still mysteriously in the south, and that Adorne would reach Edinburgh in the morning. By then, also, it had been reaffirmed to Huntly, Argyll and the other leaders that, whatever happened, the army was not to march beyond Lauder. The same leaders, observing orders, asked to be received by the King, who flew into such a passion at the suggestion of a halt, far less a retreat, that Tobie was sent for. He remained until the fit had subsided, having turned everyone out of the pavilion except for Hearty James the King’s uncle, and the lord of Torphichen, whose fruity voice and packs of obedient tenantry had a soothing effect, no matter where his loyalties lay. He didn’t try to shift Whistle Willie, the King’s master of musical medicine, who had become very proprietorial in recent years. James, despite his uneven moods, was well liked by those who understood his enthusiasms.
Among these, it was already apparent, was the entire squad of gunners, who had rigged up lanterns in their part of the field and continued to cosset the guns, no matter what they were told. Tam Cochrane encouraged them. Tam Cochrane had been responsible for producing the gunstones and the gun-carriages and the gunpowder, and also, in one way or another, for the defences of half the fortresses in the south, including the town and castle of Berwick. If the King wanted an artillery battle against Gloucester, Tam Cochrane was his man.
John le Grant had gone to sort him out, and had come back close to speechless. ‘He swears he’s going to get the guns on the road before dawn. He’s mustered all the Blind Harries to help him. And Leithie Preston, because of the wife. He’s cocked a snook at Oliver Sinclair. Nobody says no to Nowie Sinclair. Who the hell do masons think that they are?’
‘You have to ask?’ said Father Moriz.
With the dark, some of the noise and movement abated, although not very much: oxen lowed; horses stamped in the lines; men coughed and talked in low voices; there came the lilt of a boat-song from the higher ground where the Highlanders lay, and below that the rushing continuum of the river, running full. It was still dark when the flap of the tent was moved aside, and one of Argyll’s men spoke to them softly. Dawn was coming, and Darnley’s force was not here.
John and Moriz had already agreed: when the moment of decision came, Tobie would be their spokesman in council. He was already dressed. It was five minutes’ work to follow other dark, silent figures across the meadow to the little building with its row of lit windows: the church of Lauder where the commanders of the King’s army were to decide, without the King, what was to be done.
Stratagem after stratagem: of course this, too, had been foreseen by Nicholas and his seniors in the long hours of planning that had preceded this war. Nicholas was not here: if and when he came north, his task, like Adorne’s, would be to advise the temporary administration now established in Edinburgh, using all his knowledge of Albany. But Colin Argyll was here, Master