Nigel Tranter: The Courtesan

So artlessly, apparently innocently, entirely naturally and yet authoritatively did she come out with that, that she left her hearers, somehow, with no option but to accept it. They stared at her – her father longest.

'So it is true,' she added, with a sort of finality. 'And there is little time. But three months.'

'Aye – three months. This three months…?' Majesty nibbled his fingernail. 'Little time – if it is true. What can I do eh? What can I do in three months?'

David found his voice. Whatever his brother's real intentions, they must go through with this now. The substitution of a Protestant instead of a Catholic muster at arms would prevent any involvement of Huntly anyway – and so wreck Patrick's plot, if that indeed was his aim. 'The Master of Gray, Sire, has his suggestions to make,' he said. 'For Your Grace. Have I your permission to put them?'

'Suggestions, eh? From him? Aye, man – out wi' them. Waesucks – what does the rogue suggest?'

David cleared his throat. 'The project is simple – and, I think, the wise course in the circumstances, Sire. Possibly the only course that could save your realm in the event of a successful invasion of England. It is that you call upon the lords to muster their forces, the Protestant lords of course. Within the month. The Spanish ambassador will quickly acquaint his master of the fact. Then you send a message or an envoy to King Philip, suggesting a secret treaty of alliance against England. On the condition that Scotland is left free and unassailed. Offer a Scottish expedition over the Border at the same time as his Armada sails, to weaken Elizabeth's arms. And, if Philip should reject this – then the word that Your Grace would be forced to inform Elizabeth of all. And to send your assembled forces to join her own… in the defence of the Protestant religion!'

'Good God in Heaven!' Lennox exclaimed.

King James seemed considerably less startled. 'A-a-aye!' he breathed out. 'So that's it! Guidsakes – it sounds like Patrick Gray, to be sure! Aye, i'ph'mmm. Here's… here's notable food for thought. 'Deed, aye.' Keenly he peered at David. 'But the Master's a Papist, we a' ken. Here's unlikely Popery, is it no'?'

The other looked away, in his turn. 'My brother, I think, has never taken matters of religion with… with quite the seriousness that they deserve,' he said.

James actually giggled. 'Aye.' He nodded the large top-heavy head. 'I can believe that.' He glanced over towards the restive throng of his followers in the hunt, growing the more impatient as the rain grew heavier. 'We'll have to think on this. Think closely. It's no' that simple, mind. The lords… they'll likely no' be that eager to muster their strength. It's costly, you ken – costly. No' without I tell them what's toward wi' Spain. And then yon woman… then my good sister Elizabeth would hear o' it in a day or two. She's right well served wi' her spies, is Elizabeth.' The great unsteady, luminous eyes narrowed. 'A pox – I canna ken which o' a' these pretty lords there will be writing to her frae my ain house o' Falkland this night!' And he gestured towards the overdressed company. 'Or how many! For she pays them better than she pays me, the auld…' He swallowed, adam's-apple bobbing. 'How am I to get the lords to muster, without I tell them this o' Spain – and have Elizabeth champing at my door?' The King of Scots suffered under the major handicap of having no sort of standing army of his own, other than the royal guards, so that he must depend for any real military force upon the feudal levies of his haughty lords.

It was Mary Gray who answered him promptly, simply. 'Tell them that you fear a Catholic rising, your Grace. In favour of the King of Spain's plans.'

Her father caught his breath. Here was thin ice for even light feet.

'Aye. Uh-huh. Well, now… ' James paused. 'But… would they believe it?' 'They would, would they not, if the Catholic lords did indeed likewise muster? If your Grace was to write to my lord of Huntly and the other, privily, that they muster quietly. In case… in case perhaps of a Protestant rising to aid Protestant England against Spain.'

All three of her hearers made strange noises. The Duke of Lennox's plain and homely face was a study as he stared at the girl. King James's high-pitched laughter burst out in a whinny. David Gray chokingly protested.

'Mary – be quiet, child!' he exclaimed. 'What fool's chatter is this? Have you taken leave of your wits…?'

'Na, na, Davy!' the King chuckled. 'Leave her be. It's nane so foolish, on my oath! Sakes, it's easy seen whose daughter this is! I can see profit in this – aye, I can.'

'And dangers too, Your Grace. Dangers of civil war. With your realm an armed camp. Both sides facing each other, sword in hand.'

'Och man, if it came to that, some small blood-letting, a few lords the less, might no' be just a disaster for my realm, you ken!' The monarch licked his hps. 'But – och, that needna be. I could keep them apart. Huntly and the Catholics are mainly in the north. I could have the Protestants assemble in the south – along the Border.' James smote his wet knee: 'Aye – along the Border! And how would our good cousin and sister o' England look on that? Wi' Spain threatening? Guid lack – I might even win Berwick back! And never a shot fired!'

'Your Grace will do as you think best. But I would advise that you muster only the Protestant lords,' David said heavily. 'Lest you light a bonfire that you canna douse!'

'Aye, well. I'ph'mmm. We'll see…'

'Cousin, the lords would rise – the Protestant lords – fast enough, I vow, if it was to make a sally to avenge the Queen your mother's execution. Over the Border.' Young Lennox made his first contribution. 'Have I not been asking for such a thing this six-month past? Ma foi – I myself will raise and arm five score brave lads for such a venture! Marry that to this matter of the Spaniards, and do you not shoot two fowl with one arrow?'

'M'mmm. Well, now…'

'Why, yes,' Mary nodded. 'Then, with your army on the

Border, Sire, are you not well placed? No need, surely, to draw sword at all – to shed blood. If the King of Spain will treat with you, all is well and Scotland is safe. And you will have Berwick again, no doubt. He will know that you are assembled ready, and could march south to Queen Elizabeth's aid. So he will indeed treat, I think.' She paused for a moment. 'And so, I think, will Queen Elizabeth.'

'God's Body – you are right, girl! So she would, I swear.'

'Yes. But… ' Mary looked, with touching diffidence, at her father, and smiled, at her most winsomely appealing. 'I am only a lassie, I know, and understand little of affairs of state. But… would it not be wise to have my lord of Huntly and some of his Catholic forces with you, Sire – lest while you are away over the Border, maybe, with the Protestants, the Catholic lords should indeed arise and seize Scotland?'

The three men took some seconds to assimilate that. James found words first – or rather, he found a guffaw which rose and cracked into a less manly tee-heeing.

'Save my soul – here's a right Daniel! A bit female Daniel! Lassie – I should have you at my Court. I should so…!'

'No, Sire – you should not!' Harshly, almost in a bark, that came from David Gray. 'My daughter's place is in my house – not in any Court. I have seen enough of Courts! She is young – a mere child. However forward, malapert! She is but fifteen years…'

'Och, she's no' that young, man. At fifteen was I no' ruling Scotland? And without a Regent. And… and you could come wi' her, Davy. I'd owerlook yon time. I'd… we would exercise our royal clemency, maybe, and admit you back to our Court and presence. Aye…'

*No, Sire. I thank you – but no. I am a simple man. I do very well as a schoolmaster and my lord's steward. I know my place. And Mary's. Her place is in my house, with her mother.'