Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [378]
These days, the connecting door to the Berecrofts house stood permanently open. Robin had brought his remaining family to live there, for the present, with his father. Occasionally Sersanders, Kathi’s brother, visited from Linlithgow. Since Kathi left, Tobie and Clémence had also crossed the road to become part of the group in the Floory Land upon whom Nicholas would descend at untoward hours, rarely sitting; more often ranging round the room, eating, talking, listening. They argued as they had always argued: John and Julius and Tobie, Moriz and Gelis, to whom no one made concessions because of her sex. Sometimes Wodman would join them from Adorne’s house.
From him, they learned that Fat Father Jordan was still with Bel at his High Street house, where Bonne had joined them for Christmas. Nicholas had avoided the subject of Bel since he had met her in Stirling and again at the Castle. It made Gelis uneasy. She would have called on her valiant friend, or sent a message, but Nicholas had asked her if she would wait. What for, she didn’t know, but she gave in, as they all did. He was carrying enough. Keep to essentials.
They knew, from the thin stream of reports from the Council’s agents, of the reinforcements at Dunbar, and the land gifts with which Sandy was rewarding his new adherents, notably the bailie of Gordon, Alex Home of Home, damn the man. They also brought back lurid rumours of plots against the King’s life. One of these, with the horrifying facility of the Fotheringhay treaty, reached the ears of the King, who instantly commanded the dispatch of batches of letters begging armed help. The letters were written, but remained with Whitelaw unsent, while Andreas and Conrad prepared soothing draughts. The aim was to avoid confrontation, not to provoke it. As for the person who had left the Fotheringhay treaty, or spread the rumours, no one could trace who it was.
The physicians had other patients: Chancellor Laing was succumbing to his long fever, and Dunkeld, taking his duties, was poorly himself. It was as well that, discreetly meeting in the Cowgate or the High Street, Avandale and Argyll and Scheves and their burgess supporters were in vigour. Since confirmation of the peace between France and the Archduke Maximilian, Wattie’s French trip had been postponed. There was something else. Edward of England was not only furious with France, he was ill. If he was mortally ill, his brother Gloucester wasn’t going to linger about northern England, waiting to encourage Albany.
About this point, as January moved through its second week, Julius became restless. ‘Shouldn’t we know whether Albany has heard about that? Shouldn’t we make sure he knows that he can’t count on English help after all?’
It was one of the times that Nicholas was there. He said, ‘Yes. How?’
‘Let them capture a messenger.’
‘Hard on the messenger.’
‘Send them word of it direct.’
‘They wouldn’t believe it.’
John said, ‘They would if Julius took it. He’s well known to Liddell.’
‘All right,’ said Nicholas. ‘So long as you pay his ransom. I’m not raising it.’
Julius reddened. He said, ‘I’m not proposing to get myself captured, thank you. But I’d write the thing, and put it in the hands of someone local whom Liddell trusts. I could get near enough Dunbar to find someone.’
‘Well, that’s all right, then,’ Nicholas said. ‘But in fact we can manage without. I hope to tell Sandy myself fairly soon. We’ve written to him suggesting a meeting.’
There was a silence. Talks; bribes; dialogue through intermediaries: they had all been discussed, but foundered on the issue of safety. Sandy would never place himself in danger of capture and sentencing. And the King’s agents would hardly come unsupported, and risk death or capture for the King.
Tobie said, ‘It’s a trick? You’ve found some way of trapping Albany?’
Nicholas said, ‘No. It’s the suggestion of a very brave man, willing to speak for the King, unsupported. Do you remember when Pope Pius visited Scotland?