Nigel Tranter: The Wisest Fool

"It is that I have always respected the standing and status of knighthood, James. It is a noble order and estate. You made me knight once, and I esteem it a higher honour than this dukedom which I but inherited like a house or goods and chattels. But now, you make knights of any and all who come thronging." "Not all man-only those who can pay for it!"

"Which, I say, is worse. Selling what should be a cherished honour for base gold and silver!"

"Vicky Stewart-will you hold your ill tongue! I'll no' be preached at by you or any man. I will not." "I crave Your Grace's pardon."

"Aye-well you may I" James looked at his cousin sidelong from those soulful eyes. "See you-what's the harm in dubbing a wheen knights, man? These English like it fine-for they havena proper lairds and barons like we have. And what for should they no' pay for it? They have the siller-and I need it. Man, each o' these high-nebbit lords has more siller than have I, their liege lord! You ken the state o' the Scots Treasury-empty, man, empty! Would you have me penniless, when I get to London? D'you ken how much I owe Geordie Heriot? Eh… some sixty thousand pounds Scots." "So much?"

"Aye. Or I did, when we set out frae Edinburgh! But we're cutting down the score, man-as is only right and proper. Geordie gets half, you see He keeps the account-he's good at that. Have him up, Vicky-we'll see how it goes. Send for Jinglin' Geordie."

Lennox reined round to call for one of the royal pages to go fetch Master Heriot, His Grace's jeweller-and immediately the Earl of Northumberland and the Lord Henry Howard pressed forward, one on either side of the King, from the rank just behind, both speaking at once in the clipped, authoritative English fashion.

James, slumped like a sack of chaff in his saddle-though, oddly enough he rode well if not handsomely-eyed them unfavourably. "My lords," he said, "you're fine chiels both, I've no doubt But when I'm needing your lordships' company, I'll ask for it"

Abashed, mumbling hasty apologies, the two proud noblemen fell back

Lennox returned to say that it might be some time before Heriot could be located and brought forward-for the royal train had swollen to well over a thousand and spread back along the road northwards for well over a mile. He had sent Sir Thomas Erskine to go find him. The Duke announced that with a barely smothered grin; the pampered favourite Erskine would certainly not appreciate being sent to look for a mere Edinburgh burgess like George Heriot Lennox did not like Erskine, the man who had taken the leading part in the murky Gowrie conspiracy of three years before -any more than he liked most of the King's beautiful young men.

James tut-tutted testily. "A mile you say? De'il take them! I mislike crowds," he complained. "Folk thronging me. Where have they a' come frae? Guidsakes-I never asked all these!"

"Your loyal English subjects, Sire. Coming to bind themselves to your sacred person in love and gratitude, perhaps? And probably seeking knighthoods!"

"Now see here, Vicky Stewart-enough o' this! What's come ower you, man? You're as crabbit as one o' thae Kirk divines. If you canna keep a respectful tongue in your head in my royal presence, you've my royal permission to leave it! Aye."

"I am only concerned for Your Grace's royal dignity," his cousin assured, earnestly now, low-voiced. "On this your first visit to England. It is entirely necessary for you to make a good impression, before your new people. To cast honours about too freely, to seem to sell them, will but lower your knightly dignity in their regard…"

"You leave my royal dignity to me, impertinent 1 What right have you to hector me so?"

"Not hector, Sire-advise. I do so out of love for you. As for right, I am of Your Highness's Privy Council…"

"In Scotland, Vicky-in Scotland. And we're no' in Scotland, now. Mind it. And, meantime, I have no Privy Council in England -until I choose it Aye-and I'd advise you, and others, no' to forget it!"

Lennox bit his lip. He was a pleasantly plain-faced young man, almost boyish-looking for his thirty years, with as little of the great lord about him as his master and kinsman had of regality. But at least he was not laughably overdressed in grossly padded and clashing-coloured magnificence.

The King stole another glance at his friend and sucked in saliva wetly-for he slobbered especially copiously when under any sort of emotion. He spoke more placatingly-for he was a man who required approval of his policies, however little he cared in the matter of personal behaviour.

"As to making an impression, Vicky, I'd remind you that's no' necessary. No' for me. I am the Lord's Anointed, Vicar o' Christ on this earth. Forby I am their master, these all my servants now -as are you, Duke Vicky Stewart! Keep it in mind, I say." Suitably chastened, Lennox held his peace

George Heriot came riding up, and Sir Thomas Erskine of Dirleton, good-looking in a bland, foppish fashion, looked less than bland when he was waved back whence he had come by the King, with scarcely a glance, while the tradesman was welcomed with a genial grin.

"Geordie-where have you been, man? Hiding away, some place. Is the company so good, back yonder, that you desert your auld gossip, Jamie Stewart? Is it the English you're after favouring?"

Heriot was careful-as he was wise to be, when the King adopted this wheedling, fakely-familiar tone. "Far from it, Sire- although I find them well enough. A trifle simple, perhaps, after our Scots ways. They seem less… devious, than we are. I have been looking to Your Grace's interests, since somebody must " "Eh? My interests? How mean you?"

"Hundreds join this your royal train daily, Sire. If this goes on, it will be an army by the time you reach London-thousands. An army that eats and drinks its head off-at Your Grace's expense. I am not Your Grace's Treasurer, nor yet your purse-bearer. But I can add up placks and groats and merks and turn them into pounds sterling I Which is more than some folk seem able to do!"

"But, Geordie-the English will pay for this. Their great Treasury in London. My great Treasury! It'll no' come out o' my pouch!"

"Are you so sure, Sire? These English lords do not seem to think so. All consider themselves your guests! It seems that when the late Queen made her progresses about this kingdom, all her train were paid for from her privy purse." "Guidsakes!"

"Moreover, I hear hints to the effect that the English Treasury is in no very good state. That during the Queen's long ailing, matters have been mismanaged, allowed to go amiss. Taxes left ungathered-or, at least, those who farmed them failing to be brought to account for them. Certain of the Queen's favourites dipping their hands deep into her coffers…"

"Waesucks-enough! Enough, I say! You're cozening me, man. I'll not believe it, Geordie Heriot. It's no' what I've been given to understand."

"Likely not, Sire. But that is what I have picked up, by keeping my ears open. These fine lords and gentry will talk in front of me, a mere merchandiser, say things they would not mention to Your Grace."

James groaned, slumped in his saddle, all the brightness suddenly gone out of his day.

Lennox cocked an eye at Heriot. 'You reckon we should turn and go home, my friend?"

"Scare that But it behoves us all, I think, to gang warily. At this stage."

"Lest the Englishmen spoil us! I swear you break His Grace's heart!"

"Be quiet, Vicky Stewart!" James cried loudly-and then glanced quickly, almost furtively behind in case any of the illustrious party riding immediately at his back should have heard. Lowering his voice, he went on, "Man-d'you now see how wrong you were? About the knightings. He's aye complaining, Geordie- my lord high and righteous Duke o' Lennox, carping at me for making knights o' ower many o' these English bodies. Sakes-he doesna ken the elementals o' it! You tell Irim, Geordie. Why I sent for you. How many knights have I made since I crossed yon brig at Berwick, eh? How many, aye-and how much. You'll ken"