Queen's Play - Dorothy Dunnett [241]
Piedar Dooly was too wise to shout, and too stupid to keep his mouth shut entirely. ‘Stad thusa ort!—It’s too late, anyway,’ he said smiling, and spat.
The King’s Keeper looked over his head at Thomas Ouschart, and then spoke aside briefly in Urdu. Then, holding the little Firbolg very carefully between them, they carried him silently into the pavilion.
At five minutes to ten the King, hatless in white, entered the Privy Chamber, and the Archers of the Guard, the gentlemen and princes lining the walls uncovered and bowed. The music stopped.
Outside the far door, the Garter procession had been formed for ten minutes, talking in low voices, sweating in velvet. The Constable, incongruous among all the English faces, had arrived, a little late, to take his place next to Mason. Ahead of him was the Bishop, Sir Thomas Smith and Black Rod; in the middle, Northampton was talking to Dethick, a Christian act for all concerned. The file of servants stretched in front up to the doors, not speaking at all. Their necks were clean.
The trumpets blew, and they moved in.
You had to grant they were good at it. Like machines, the Lord Ambassador’s staff paced into the Presence, lined with diamond-studded foreigners, moving straight up to the tables to let the tail of the Embassy get in. The door shut, the three reverences were made, and as the trumpets burst into a fantasy of sound the two ranks separated, exposing the advancing officers of arms: Flower, tramping steadily in Chester Herald’s brilliant coat, his arms full of material, and Garter King of Arms, his beard combed, his crown straight, in his furred robe with the blue and red quartered tabard V-necked over it, gleaming with gold lions and fleurs-de-lis. He carried the cushion of purple velvet, tasselled with gold, on which sparkled the Garter, the Collar, the Book of Statutes in gold lace and velvet and the scroll with their Commission of Legation—most of which must be pinned—nothing slid or even moved.
With a marvellous bow to the sovereign’s state, Dethick deposited the Ensigns on the long table beside the Mantle, Surcoat, Hood and Cap, and made way for Northampton. The oration began. The Commission of Legation, handed over to Henri, was read aloud by his secretary. ‘Edward VI, by the grace of God, King of England and Lord of Ireland, Defender of the Faith, Sovereign of our Most Noble Order of the Garter, to our right truly and right entirely beloved Cousin, the Marquis of Northampton … will and authorize you … accept and admit to the said Order, and receive his oath.…’
Extraordinary how well their robes became them. Parr, who hadn’t the wits of a trumpet on the field, could pass for a King. There was d’Aubigny. Henri looked nervous. Devil take the de Guises, thought the Constable. He would like to see the Dowager’s face if Edward agreed to hand over Calais in return for marrying her daughter after all, compensation or no compensation.
He suppressed a sigh. It wasn’t likely to happen; merely an interesting gambit, nothing more. But it was a triumph for his own party that the thing had even been agreed. He hoped to God that St. André would be circumspect. The last marriage embassy they had sent in old King Henry’s day had nearly ruined their mission, selling off the contents of their baggage at cut prices to their hosts before the puddings were set on the table; the Tailors’ Hall had looked like a market stall, and the guilds had all been up in arms, and quite rightly too. However, he could trust St. André. Unlike the de Guises. Pasque-Dieu, the Duke wasn’t here. No, he was; come in late.… God, it was hot.
It was the short guard who came at a run and unlocked and flung open the door; the men behind him were de Guise’s. Lymond was amongst them in a second, his hand on O’LiamRoe, white and breathless at their head. ‘—She told you?’
‘Robin Stewart sent word. Dooly held it back. It’s only reached us this minute. The attempt is now, on the lake.’
They were running, the armed men rattling behind. As they ran, O’LiamRoe managed to speak. ‘We must go quietly.