Nigel Tranter - Lord and Master

Elizabeth, and there did urge and persuade her to the signing of the death warrant, which Her Grace was in doubts as to doing. He told her the words. "The dead do not bite!" and declared that while Queen Mary lived, Queen Elizabeth's own life must be in danger, thereby persuading Her Grace to the death. Moreover, he counselled that some other means might be found to encompass our princess's bloody fate, more secret and convenient than the headsman's axe, if this puked Her Grace. And he assured Elizabeth that there would be no uprising or commotion in Scotland over the said death, but only a few slogans shouted. That the folk cared not for their Queen, that the lords were hypocrites and windbags all, and that naught need be feared of fury from the King…'

'It is untrue!' Patrick cried. 'Lies – all damnable lies!' Curiously, he had turned around, so that it was at the clerk's table that he looked, not at his accuser, his King nor his judges. 'I tell you, it is false. Walsingham lies. He would divide us. He fears the invasion of his realm. He would have us fight each other, not England! It is ever the English way…'

David sat, eyes wide, but unseeeing, motionless, as though turned to stone.

'Do you deny that you had this private audience with Queen Elizabeth?' Stewart demanded, notably confident now.

'No. That I sought on our prince's direct command.' He turned to look at James. 'It was for another purpose, as His Grace knows well.'

'But you used the opportunity to press for the death of your Queen!'

'No! I deny it I would never do such a thing. You have no proof – save the accusation of Walsingham who hates me, who hates Scotland.' That was said with violence but a certain lack of assurance, and Patrick's eyes now rested on the pile of papers in front of his accuser, tensely, as though his allegation of lack of proof held a question-mark behind it, and out from those papers one might materialise which would answer his question.

'We have clear proof, other than Walsingham's word,' Stewart nodded grimly. 'Is it your wish that it should be produced, Master of Gray?' In his hand, now, was a faded folded parchment, discoloured by years.

For seconds on end there was no sound nor movement in that chamber. Patrick Gray moistened his lips, but no words came. The silence became almost unbearable. That parchment, the accursed Deed of Abdication, had been Mary's real death warrant; now, it could equally well be his own. It could condemn him, utterly. Elizabeth had played false, in the end. But… why was Stewart not reading it out? Why this asking him if he wished it to be produced? Because, of course, if it was proof of his guilt, it was also proof that Mary at her death, and for eighteen years, had been no longer true Queen of Scots – thus lowering his offence from highest treason to something less. That reluctance to publish this lost and forgotten document might yet save him…

As Patrick hesitated, on the horns of this dire dilemma, Maitland shook his head at Stewart, almost imperceptibly, and looking along at the King, nodded

It was James, therefore, who broke the throbbing silence, less than willingly it seemed. Swallowing loudly twice, he licked his hps, and after a false start, spoke. 'I… we ourself can testify to, to this matter. That the Master o' Gray willed our royal mother's death. He… he advised us that it would be best. Best for our Crown and realm. Mair than once, aye.' The King kept his lolling head down, looking at none.

Swiftly Maitland took him up. 'Your Grace – we are beholden to you. My lords, what need have we of further evidence? The King's testimony is final and cannot be overturned or questioned. The Master of Gray stands condemned of advising and contriving the death of His Grace's royal mother. If nothing else is accepted against him, this is sufficient indictment. How say you, my lords?

'Aye, he is guilty!' Bothwell exclaimed 'Guilty as Judas Iscariot!'

'After our command that he take sure and immediate action to save her, yon time!' Angus cried 'He didna believe that Elizabeth would sign the warrant! He misnamed Archie Douglas for saying that she would! And all the time – this!'

The Master of Glamis spoke gratingly. 'Always the man was a dastard – have I no' told you so? A forsworn rogue. Away with him!'

'Aye, his guilt is assured Manifest' 'My lords,' Maitland began, primly correct 'If this Council is duly…'

Patrick interrupted him urgently. 'My lords – hear me. Since His Grace has spoken, my lips are unsealed Hitherto I could not speak you plainly, owing secrecy to the King's privy affairs. But now…! You have heard His Grace's own testimony. How that I advised him for the good of his Crown and realm. I did so advise him, yes. That for Scotland's sake and his own, his mother would be better dead. I admit it Indeed I tell you, assure you, that it is so. While Mary lived, she would not abate one jot of her claim to this throne. To her, His Grace was but a child, a princeling, usurping her Grown. No King. And you, my lords, therefore, no true Council. While she lived, Elizabeth's life and throne were in danger, and there could be no peace between Scotland and England. While she lived, our prince could never be named successor to Elizabeth's throne. While she lived, Philip of Spain stood heir to Scotland – she had nominated him so. With all inducement to invade and take, in Mary's name, what she had given him. While she lived, therefore, the Protestant cause, in which I was born and reared, stood menaced., It was Mary or war, my lords.'

'Away with him! He is a Papist rat himself!'

'Heed him not He lies, as always.'

'It is the truth. Think, my lords – use the wits God has given you. You are of the Kirk, all of you – Protestant. You raised no hand to free Mary, all the years of her captivity. You were content You called her the Whore of Babylon, the Pope's Harlot! You would have none of her. Why – if I am wrong…?'

'Master of Gray,' Maitland said, hammering with his gavel. 'What you say is nothing to the point. You are impeached on a charge of treason in that, contrary to the express and solemn instruction of the King and this Council, when sent to strive and treat for the life of Mary the Queen, contrariwise you did advise and contrive her shameful and bloody death. Which infamous and treasonable deed you have admitted…'

'Not treasonable – no, sir. Since Mary was abdicate, and no longer Queen of Scots, how can it be treason?'

'Any act contrary to the King's interests and given command is treason, sir.'

''Even if His Grace knew and approved?'

'Silence, sir! How dare you drag His Majesty into your base treacheries!' Maitland exclaimed. 'Sire, we have had patience enough, have we not?'

'Aye. Oh, aye,' James agreed hurriedly.

'My lords, you have found the Master of Gray guilty of treason. The penalty of treason is death. Can any of your lordships state reason Why the said penalty of death be not passed upon the said Master of Gray?'

'No! None!'

'Away with him! Send him after Mary!'

'If any man deserves to die, Gray does.'

James half-rose, and leaned over to tap the acting Chancellor's arm, hesitantly.

Hastily Maitland spoke, feigning not to notice the King. 'You judge well, my lords. Anything less than death, and our own heads would be forfeit, I do declare! The folk are roused, as I have never known them. They will have their vengeance on their Queen's murderer, that is certain. If we fail in our plain duty, they will not deal lightly with us – nothing is surer. With any of us!' He glanced at the King now. 'The Crown itself might not survive. A people roused is no' a thing to gainsay, I tell you.'

James subsided into his Chair of State again – plucking at his lip.

Maitland stood up. 'I declare the findings of this most high Privy Council to be, then, that Patrick Master of Gray is hereby found guilty of the heinous and monstrous crime of treason against his sovereign lord King James., whom God protect, and is in consequence worthy and deserving of the punishment of death. Which punishment shall be achieved, according to the law of this realm, cutting off the said Master of Gray his head from his body, at such hour and place as the King's Grace shall command. And this is pronounced for doom. God save the King!'