The Kadin - Bertrice Small [3]
“Aye, Your Majesty.”
“Yet you were one of the few Highland chiefs who supported me against my late father. Why is that?”
“I felt Your Majesty had the right on his side. In his day your father was a great king, but he grew old and foolish, and Scotland needed a young man to rule her. So I supported Your Majesty. I have kept from court because my estates need me and, as Your Majesty well knows, I am not a man of intrigue. Intrigue is necessary to survival here in Edinburgh.”
“Perhaps not a man of intrigue, Patrick Leslie, but certainly one of great diplomacy. That is why I have summoned you.” The lord of Glenkirk looked puzzled, but James continued. “I am the first king of the Scots to send ambassadors to represent me in other countries. I want you to serve as my ambassador to the duchy of San Lorenzo.”
“Your Majesty will forgive my ignorance,” said Patrick, “but where is San Lorenzo?”
James Stuart laughed. “I didn’t know of it myself until several months ago. It’s a tiny country on the Mediterranean, but it is vital to our merchant trade with Venice and the East Our dear cousin Henry of England has been trying to get a toehold there for several years, but his emissaries are as dour and as pinchpenny as Henry himself. They annoy the duke, who is a man of culture and generosity. He sent a delegation to me this Christmas past I sent them back with many fine gifts and the promise that I should send an ambassador come spring.”
“But Your Majesty,” protested Patrick, “I am no court gallant! I am a simple Highland chief. I know only of my lands and my people. Surely there is someone more suited than I.”
“Nay, my lord. I want you. For all your talk, I know you to be an educated man, a man with a silver tongue, they say. The duke of San Lorenzo is a man of elegant tastes. Those wily fools my cousin of England has sent to him have angered him to the point of turning to me simply to annoy Henry. Scotland is a poor country, Patrick. With a haven of safety in the Mediterranean where our ships can stop to replenish their water and supplies, we can trade with the Levant, and England will pay dearly for what we can bring back! I have asked nothing of you before, my lord, but I ask this. Do not make me command it I value your friendship and loyalty too much.”
“But who will look after my estates and my people?”
“We shall send your cousin, Ian. He is honest and loyal. Also, he has angered too many husbands and fathers here at court with his winning ways. We will choose him a good wife and send him to Glenkirk as steward over your estates.”
“How long must I stay in San Lorenzo, sire?”
“I shall ask you to remain only three years, Patrick. Then I shall send someone else, and you may return. Take your household and family with you.” James rose and stood by the window. “You have two children?”
“Aye, Your Majesty. My son, Adam, who is six, and Janet my daughter.”
“Ah,” smiled the king. “The little redheaded wench who bested Lady Jane Gordon tonight What a vixen! Is she bethrothed?”
“She is only ten, sire.”
“Many a lass has been wed that young. The duke of San Lorenzo has an heir, a boy of fourteen. We should not be displeased if he is taken with your girl. However, that is not a command. He could turn out to be a snaggle-toothed dolt and I should not like to see one of our Scots lasses wasted on a fool.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” said Patrick wryly.
“You will be ready to leave within the month. Sir Andrew Wood will arrange for your passage and that of your family and servants—and, Patrick, because I wish to do the duke honor, I am creating you earl of Glenkirk.”
The interview was at an end. Patrick Leslie bowed low and backed out of the room. His head was whirling. Earl of Glenkirk! Ambassador to the duchy of San Lorenzo! A possible marriage for his daughter with one of the oldest—albeit smallest—royal houses in Europe! He should be elated, yet he wasn’t He felt sad, as if he had lost something very dear to him Cursing his mystical Celtic heritage, he shrugged and hurried off to tell his family the news.