Queen's Play - Dorothy Dunnett [129]
‘How long?’ Ruthlessly, Richard was coursing evasions. ‘The Erskines believe you want proof of Stewart’s guilt in case he comes back.’
Lymond’s stained hands were still. ‘Partly true. The proof I have would be quite hopeless at law. A prostitute from Dieppe. A Scotsman posing as an Indian. Another Scotsman passing for Irish. We need something better than that. But as for Stewart … I don’t think he’ll come back.’
‘In that case—’ With some trouble, Richard controlled his temper. ‘Getting evidence is a simple matter. Leave Erskine to do it. I’ll help. There is no need whatever for you to stay. If you are perfectly sure, we can deal with him, if need be, without a trial.’
‘A plain killing? No, I won’t have that, Richard. He was born into gall like a fly in an oak tree. He tried quite hard to get free.’
Richard was sarcastic. ‘Like the Cornishman?’
There was silence from the bed. Then Lymond said, ‘O’LiamRoe was in danger most of the time he was here, largely because someone took him for me. You know about Abernaci. He has friends, a man called Tosh among them. Wherever O’LiamRoe went, Tosh or someone else or several of them followed. They were only needed once, in an ambush one night at Blois here. The Cornishman was one of the band who attacked O’LiamRoe. He killed two of Tosh’s men.’
Richard said carefully, ‘A little dangerous then, surely, for the Cornish wrestler to show himself here again?’
‘The only person who saw him was a man who later died. He came last night to rid himself of me, too. I didn’t challenge him.’
For a second, Richard didn’t see it. Then he said sharply, looking into Francis’s quiet face, ‘How could he know that you were concerned?’
His brother smiled. ‘Because Robin Stewart knows who I am. Obviously. Why else should he poison me?’
Obviously. Richard said evenly, ‘How did he find out?’
‘Stewart? It’s a long story. We had to make it easy for him, in the end. He isn’t very clever, you know. If you are interested, we sent Stewart on a pretext to the Keeper’s lodging, where Tosh shattered his simple faith by revealing that Thady Boy had been in the galleys. This was not only suspicious and alarming, but it linked up with an incident at Aubigny where his lordship had made a graceful reference to the Master of Culter as a provincial ex-galley slave. Don’t let it disturb you. It is, after all, true. That; and we let Stewart pick up a wood block Abernaci had made with the Culter arms on it. I hope friend Robin assumes it is a commission.… The block has a certain rough vigour, by the way. You should get Abernaci to sell it to you.’
It had been a long journey from Scotland, and he had not slept very well last night. Raising a hand, Richard rubbed his tired eyes. Then he dropped it and said, ‘You wanted Stewart to find out who you were?’
‘I thought I did,’ said Lymond, a tinge of irony in his voice, and paused. After a moment he went on. ‘I knew, you see, that he was trying to kill Mary, and he had to be stopped. The supposition was that he would come to me. Or lead us to any accomplice he had. Or at worst, leave the country. In fact, what he did was go straight back to the Keeper’s lodging, steal some poison, and attempt to rescue his self-respect by dosing my hippocras … I must say I hadn’t quite bargained for deadly nightshade. An error of judgment. Sown east and west at the wrong time of the moon. Although to be fair, Stewart did come to me before administering the poison, but O’LiamRoe came in at the wrong moment and matters went astray. Not O’LiamRoe’s fault either. I didn’t have my wits about me, or I should have expected it.’
Solid, intent, Richard did not lift his eyes from his brother’s face. ‘You say you knew that Stewart was attempting to injure the Queen?’
‘Oh, well,’ said Lymond slowly, ‘it had been a strong possibility for a long time. Margaret Erskine may have told you about the poisoned cotignac. During Jenny’s little weekly escapades, she dismissed her own guard on that door. Anyone could have got in during the six weeks or so the