Gemini (49 page)

The Secretary took off his spectacles and held them out to Nicholas who, in a recently established routine, pulled out a clean kerchief and worked on them while the owner rattled through his opinion, mostly in Latin. Plain words appeared from time to time: the Council, the Sheriff Court and the Justiciary. Diets for proof of destruction and spuilzie. Multiplepoinding.

‘I beg your pardon?’ Nicholas said. If they were enjoying it, he didn’t mind. He handed the spectacles back, splashes removed.

‘It’s irrelevant,’ said Colin Campbell. ‘Truly. But go on, Archie. What else?’

Crown gift of tack, heirship moveables. Conjunct infeftment and bairns’ rights—

‘But David Simpson had no relatives, did he?’ Avandale asked. ‘In which case the
ultimus haeres
is the King, who is therefore, at law, the injured party. Is that correct, Colin?’

‘Concessum,’
said Colin, who was not only a lawyer, but Lord Justiciar
South of the Forth. ‘But Archie, the lucky one, remembers much more of it all than I do.’

Master Whitelaw, serenely continuing, mentioned restitution, reversion, and remission for arson in exchange for security. He added something about Wrongous and Maisterful Action by Strangers.

Nicholas stopped listening. When it ended, he just said, ‘So what is the penalty?’

Argyll looked pained. Avandale said jovially, ‘Whatever the King and his counsellors wish to make it, not excluding death. If, that is, you blew up the building, and a witness felt compelled to confirm it. Otherwise, it must be regarded as natural combustion.’

Everyone looked solemn, including Nicholas. Whitelaw said, ‘In which case, we might return to the business in hand.’

In the next hour, there was very little frivolity, as they discussed the effects of Albany’s raids over the Border. Accounts were still coming in, but everything pointed to the familiar patterns of destruction, and pillage, and burning. The difference was that the perpetrators were the Warden’s own force, purporting to execute justice, but acting outside the due March procedures. It had gone too far to stop, and all that was left was to try to contain it.

The English complaints were beginning already. The formal protest would come from the English Warden, backed by the Crown. The question was how best to deal with it. Both countries needed peace. England had been glad to sustain it so far. Negotiations were under way for the marriage of the lady Margaret to Earl Rivers, the English Queen’s brother. Dr Leigh would pay his regular visit in March with the annual portion of his Princess’s dowry, by which time the Scottish Parliament would have met to compute and agree a similar dowry for Meg. Any local dispute between the two countries must be settled—would be settled, by compensation if need be, before then.

‘Which will delight Sandy,’ Nicholas said. Three bottles on, they were all on Christian name terms again.

Archie Whitelaw grunted. ‘Which will, clearly, return the young man to the state of mind which impelled him on this course of action—anger against the royal policies; misplaced sympathy for his sisters; disgruntlement over his personal standing. It is unfortunate that the earldom of March covers such a large area. Also, youth and vigour and patriotic fervour have their own appeal. I am told he rides attended by the bard Harry. Perhaps he—or someone—will invite Master Holland as well.’

Nicholas said, ‘Sandy isn’t a Wallace, but he’s quite well liked. He’s seen as being honest, at least, in his convictions. He is the overlord of many others, as you say, who owe him service, or money. He has less support among those who find him erratic and occasionally violent, and of
course among those who can trade and live well without war. His men have followed him this time.’

‘Perhaps the falterers could be encouraged,’ said Colin Argyll.

‘Not by me,’ Nicholas said.

Campbell smiled. Drew Avandale said, ‘No. Nicholas is right. He must keep Sandy’s trust, as we must rely on Adorne and the Queen to moderate the King’s language and actions. You have not yet met the Queen? In private session, that is?’

‘No. It would be unwise,’ Nicholas said.

‘It might become advisable,’ Avandale said. ‘Leave it to me. Meanwhile, it is your influence over Sandy that we require most of all. Find him when he gets back. Re-establish your credentials. And keep him out of trouble, if you can, until spring.’ He paused. ‘We are perhaps asking too much. But it seems to me, from what I have heard, that your personal difficulties are now over. Simpson is dead, and St Pol and his grandson can hardly pursue their vendetta when you saved the old man, as I hear, from Simpson’s knife. Or is there any other way in which we may help you?’

‘No. None. I shall do what I can,’ Nicholas said. The offer was meaningless. His situation was already summed up in two words.
Natural combustion
.

He decided, when he stopped being annoyed, that he was amused, and even appreciative.

B
Y THAT TIME
, Nicholas had also marshalled his personal life. Ever since the night at Craigmillar, he had been thinking of Jodi, in royal service far to the west. He was about to take the decision to go there, when the boy arrived home, on a visit arranged by the Princess Mary and Gelis. It would only be, Gelis explained, for a short time, but long enough for Jodi to become discontented, and to notice that his father was never there anyway.

Gelis’s return had been another reunion, and Robin had been none the worse for his journey. Nicholas had gone to see him, and had talked to Tobie and Clémence and Kathi. The blowing up of Beltrees was their favourite topic. He was a hero. He saw Robin’s father, and Sersanders. No one mentioned David Simpson, or if they did, he discouraged them. Henry and St Pol were still at Kilmirren, and none of the Semples came near him.

He went to visit Adorne, who had been told the whole story by Wodman. He went to see him to discover how he fared, and to discuss strategy in the light of what was now happening. He also went, warned by Kathi, for another reason.

This time, Cortachy was not alone, but in his business room, talking to Wodman and Andreas. The makeshift nursery had gone: since Euphemia passed her first birthday, she had been returned to the care of the Haddington nuns, and the presence of other small children, staggering and crawling together. Adorne visited her very often, with Kathi or Clémence. But this was not a house for a young child.

Now Adorne rose and embraced him. ‘Nicholas! God preserved you.’

‘It was my metal core,’ Nicholas said. He said it perversely, since he resented both the phrase, and the fact that Wodman had heard it. Then
he said, ‘I’ve just come from the Lords Three. Let me tell you what they say, and then I’d appreciate your view from David’s Tower.’

The view from the Court, when they came to it, was much as he had gathered elsewhere: the younger Princess rebellious, the King raging against Albany. John of Mar had been under medical care for a few days, but was now better.

‘An abbreviated way of saying that we locked him in his room,’ Andreas interpolated. ‘We don’t know whether Simpson gave him any agaric or not, but the effect of whatever he did take was disastrous. He went wild.’

Adorne said, ‘If I hadn’t been in Scotland, Simpson would never have thought of this drug.’

‘He would have found another,’ Nicholas said. ‘Maybe worse. Or the fit may just have been due to excitement.’

Andreas said, ‘We have talked about it, of course. That is possible. It is also possible that what Lord Mar drank exacerbated his illness. Dr Tobie suggested a more regular testing of urine. Sometimes it is normal. Sometimes it assumes a purplish colour, and may be accompanied by the reddened skin and the outbursts of temper. We have found no solution. We cannot treat him with poppy all the time.’

‘And, of course,’ said Adorne, ‘it adds to the tension with his two brothers. I spend an hour with the King, and everything is undone when Mar bursts in with some accusation. It might even be helpful if he spent some time in the north, in his own lands. I could take him. Cochrane is working in the north-east already. Knollys is often there, or his family, on behalf of the Knights. The King is personally known there as well. Argyll will have told you that he went north in the recent campaigns. Colin can often find a way round the King’s misgivings, but has no patience with Mar, as you have with Albany. Then when Sandy returns, you can set to work on him.’

‘I feel like a tailor,’ Nicholas said. ‘It sounds a good idea. What inducement can we offer? Viewing his fortified castles? Not, I hope, salmon?’ There went through his mind an elaborate consortium deal brokered by Luss and Tam Cochrane, and involving Cawdor, Ross and the Cumming brothers in the Nairn area. But of course Adorne would know all about it. Marchmont Herald, a Cumming, was married to a Craigmillar Preston, who was thereby related to both Leithie and Cochrane. And Cawdor was in the salmon business with Alex Innes, who was married to Phemie’s sister. It was amazing what connections Phemie had had.

He had an appealing idea. He said, ‘Don’t the Bishops of Caithness have salmon rights? Bonar Bridge? That impossibly rich bailery of St Duthac? Where’s Camulio?’

Prosper de Camulio, Bishop-elect of Caithness, was moving in a distracted way through Europe, performing unpopular errands for the Pope and King Ferrante of Naples.

Adorne said, ‘I believe he is currently moving between Switzerland, the Tyrol and the Emperor, attempting to form a papal alliance against Milan. His plans beyond that are not known. Simpson, you will remember, was encouraged to believe that his employer was returning this spring, but we have no reason to think so. He has been sent a report of Simpson’s death.’

He stopped, looking at Nicholas. ‘While we are on the subject of Craigmillar and after: no one but Simpson will be held accountable for what happened, unless an exception is made for the destruction of Beltrees. I should like to affirm here and now that I personally will support what you did to the hilt, and will support you at law if it comes to it. Meanwhile, is there need of a lawyer? Should you not send for Julius, for example?’

Adorne could often surprise him. Nicholas said, ‘Thank you, sir, but no. Failing the departure of most of the Council, it seems unlikely that anyone will prosecute. Unless, of course, my lord of St Pol has other plans.’ He was looking at Wodman.

The Conservator said, ‘I left him at Kilmirren, with Henry. I rather think it would be best if you didn’t meet again for a very long time. I don’t think he will take your throat out immediately, but you know the old man. He keeps his plans to himself.’

As he was keeping Henry beside him. Nicholas could understand that.

Andreas left. Wodman asked about the Colquhoun ship, and the pirated cargo for Benecke’s family, and Nicholas told him, without unnecessary details. He had no regrets. If there had been Newbattle goods on the
Star
as well as Simpson’s, it was unfortunate, but he was prepared to answer for it. Wodman said, ‘I wish I’d thought of it first. But you be careful. I got the impression that Simpson had prepared one or two slow-matches that might be burning away in a corner, all ready to go off one of these days.’

Nicholas thought so as well, and respected the warning. Wodman had said very little about Simpson’s death, or about St Pol. It was an avenue that Nicholas, too, was content not to explore. Wodman had always expected Nicholas to kill Simpson for him. Perhaps there was some code of honour that had prevented him from doing it himself. Or perhaps the old man had forbidden it.

There was, however, one thing that Andro Wodman did have to answer for, but not before Adorne. When the Conservator next left the room, Nicholas followed him. He remembered, from the sludge of the past, another meeting in a latrine in Poland, and what had happened
immediately afterwards. No, he did not need a lawyer. He leaned against the door and said, when Wodman turned, ‘The copper bowl.’

Wodman finished replacing his ties and sat down again where it was most convenient. The misshapen face looked quite undisturbed. He said, ‘That’s an eerie gift you’ve got there. Tobie was sure you’d be made to divine. I had the bowl in my luggage. You remember where you saw it last.’

Nicholas knew. Seven years before, at the court of King René in Angers, when he had met a physician called Pierre de Nostradamus at the edge of a chasm full of stinking wild boar. He had been taken from that abyss and introduced to another, where he had been forced to divine, using that bowl. Then, the pendulum had spelled out the same word,
Robin
.

Soon after that, Andro Wodman had come to take him away. He must have acquired the bowl then, or just after. Nicholas said, ‘Nostradamus let you have the bowl? Why?’

Wodman said, ‘He is an astrologer. Perhaps he knew that it would save Kathi’s husband one day.’

‘Do you believe that?’ Nicholas said. ‘Why should he care? He had never seen me before, and would never see me again. And it was of no advantage to the King.’

Wodman said, ‘It might have been. Margaret of Anjou is his daughter, and she spent some time in Scotland. But you are probably right. What he saw in his charts may have surprised Nostradamus in some other way. At least he was intrigued enough to follow your movements. And you did meet again, although you may not remember it. When you dwined away by the river at Trèves, it was Nostradamus who tended you.’

Nicholas stared at him. Trèves, and the grand meeting between the Emperor and Burgundy, at which he had been present with Gelis and Jodi. And Anna. And Julius. When he was cornered: when he was compelled to admit, at last, all the devastation he had been planning for Scotland. When there had been a fight, and Jordan de St Pol had run him through.

Someone had carried him to the river. Someone had placed him, later, on the state barge which would take him to Germany.

Nicholas said, ‘How do you know?’

And Wodman said, ‘Well, how do you think? Or don’t you remember even who sent for help, and got you out of the house? I thought she’d tell you. It was Clémence, of course.’