Nigel Tranter: Lord and Master

'God save the King!'

'God save the King!'

'Captain of the Guard, to your duty. Tate the prisoner away, and ward him in the castle of this Edinburgh, secure on peril of your own life!'

Patrick Gray was marched from the Council Chamber, looking neither to left nor to right

THE brothers faced each other at last, in a dim, damp, vaulted cell of Edinburgh Castle, with the heavy door locked upon them and the clank of armed men pacing outside.

'Thank God that they have let you come, at length, Davy!' Patrick cried. 'I feared that they were not going to allow you to visit me, for all my pleading, Man, it is good to see you.'

David stood stiffly, just inside the door, looking stonily ahead of him. 'No man prevented me from coming to see you, save my own self, Patrick,' he said evenly, his voice flat..

The other searched his face urgently in the gloom, 'So-o-o! That is the way of it, is it, Davy? I am sorry. But at the-least, you have come now, at last.'

'Only because I heard that the day of your, your execution has been set for Thursday. I take it that there will be matters which you will wish to be arranged? Charges which I may be able to carry out for you… i'

'By God, there are! A-plenty! And but three days to do it in, curse them! The folly of it – the utter senseless folly! Frightened bairns, scared of their own shadows! It is hard, hard, to be so trammelled by fools and paltry knaves, Davy. And now they have left me so little time – so much to be done in so short a space. They would let me see no one, Davy, ere this – not even Marie. How is she, man? How does she take all this.

'She is well enough. She bides with us in the Lawnmarket.'

'Good. That is well. But… why have they let you in, Davy, and not Marie?'

'I do not know. I came, and none hindered me.'

They have not sent you with some message for, me? Some proposition, perhaps?'

'No. I came of my own accord. I have seen none in authority.'

'Ah, well – it matters not so long as you are here.' Patrick began to pace up and down his restricted floor. 'Listen well then, Davy, here is what is to be done, and quickly. You must win your way into the King's presence, and seek a royal pardon -annulment of this ridulous death sentence. Have it reduced to imprisonment, forfeiture banishment – anything. Any of these I can deal with well enough, in my own time…'

I cannot, Patrick.'

'Och, man, I know it will not be easy for you to gain Jamese's presence; as matters lie. They will keep you from him, if they can. But it must be done, and it can be done. You must get one of the great lords to convey you in – one who has the King's ear. It will have to be a Catholic – for none of the Protestants will oblige you, I swear. It had better be Huntly – he is a far-out cousin of ours, and as lieutenant of the North, the most powerful Our Ruthven friends cannot prevent Huntly from seeing the King-and you with him. Not yet…'

'It is of no use, Patrick…'

Tut – do not be ever so damnably gloomy! Huntly will do it, I promise you – if suitably induced. He is no different from other men, dock o' the North though he be. Offer him, in my name, the Abbey of Dunfermline. It is the richest plum in an Scotland George Gordon of Huntly will accept it, never fear.'

That is not what concerns me, I tell you…'

If it is the King, Davy, I think you need have no fear either. James's heart was not in yon business. He is not set against me, and cannot wish my death. He would have spoken against the death sentence, yon time, had not Maitland silenced him with fool's talk about the folk's wrath. Indeed, I cannot think what they used to turn him thus far against me. It was not the business of his mother, or Walsingham's letter, I swear…'

'I can tell you what turned him,' David said grimly. 'If your own conscience does not. The Ruthven lords told him who was truly responsible for Esme Stuart's downfall and death.'

'Tcha – that! An old story, and no proving it He was but a bairn then…'

'But James has never forgotten it He loved his Cousin Esme, Patrick, as he has never loved another. James never forgets anything.'

'Then he does not forget Ruthven either! He loves not these bullying Protestant lords, you may be sure, for what they did to him there. By the same token, he will not forget who delivered him out of their hands, yon time. He owed you his freedom then, and much service since. He will pay heed to you, Davy. If you plead for a pardon, he will not withhold it They cannot stop him – the Protestant lords – from signing a royal pardon. And once in Huntly's hands, and given by him to Erroll the Constable, that will put all well, Secretly mind – for I do not doubt that they would have me despatched privily here in this cell, if they feared that their execution was going awry.

Poisoned food, or a slit throat.. '

'Exactly as you proposed to Elizabeth for our Queen Mary! Pretty justice would it not be?'

Tut, man – must you still harp yon tune? What's done is done. Here is no time for such talk, for recriminations and arguments on policy and statecraft…'

'As you say, Patrick,' David interrupted levelly, but strongly. 'Such time is past As I have been trying to tell you. I did not come here to argue or to recriminate. Not any more. Only to take any last messages…'

'So be it. I am glad to hear it, Davy. Now – you have it about Huntly, and the Commendatorship of Dunfermline? That should be enough, and more…'

'No. It is no use, Patrick. You might as well save your breath. I will not see Huntly. Nor yet the King.'

'Eh…?' The other stared at his brother. 'What in God's name do you mean?'

I mean that we have come to the parting of the ways, at last, Patrick.' Slowly, heavily, David brought out the words, one by one his tone so flat as to be almost expressionless, his features as though carved. 'Too long I travelled your shameful road with you – God forgive me! It is finished now.'

'You mean…?Good Christ-you mean that you will not do this thing for me?'

This – or any other, that might save you from the judgment that you have so richly so terribly, earned.'

'Merciful Heaven – it cannot be! You jest.. Davy – aye, you but jest?'

'Think you that I could jest at such a time? Was I a jester ever? You were the jester, Patrick – not me!'

'Then.. God Almighty – it is beyond all belief!' Patrick strode forward, and grabbed his brother's shoulders, all but shaking them, staring into the grey steady eyes. You to do this! You, Davy Gray, to desert me, to turn traitor at the end! After all-you to betray me! My own brother. I'll not-I tell you. I'll not believe it!'

Unwinking, unflinching, David's level regard held the other's blazing eyes. 'Betray…!' he repeated quietly. 'I wonder that you dare form that word, brother!'

'Brother! And you dare call me brother? You that could save me, but prefer to throw me to my enemies! You, who would have me die, rather than lift a hand to save me! Brother, forsooth!'

'Perhaps you are right in this, Patrick. Perhaps never were we true brothers – only suffered under the accident of the same heedless sire! For 'fore God, I would not wish to be brother to the man who sent Mary Stuart to the scaffold!'

'As you would send me now!'

'As I..David swallowed. 'As I would send you now!'

The other whispered. 'You… you want me to die, then?

Stiff-lipped, slowly, David nodded. 'I… want you… to die.'

'Christ God – this then is.. murder! The crime of Cain.' Glittering-eyed Patrick gestured towards his brother's head. 'Watch you your brow, for the mark coming! Cain's mark…!'

The other gazed straight ahead of him. 'So be it, if it be God's will.'

'God's will…!' Patrick flung away from him, to go pacing about the cell again. 'You prate of God's will. Lord – this is not possible!'