Part Four. The End Game. Chapter III. Knight Adversary

1. Strange Refuge

Saturday, June 23

Epigraph:

And it also behooves [people] that they first heal themselves and also rid themselves of all disease and vices and show themselves whole and pure and ready to heal others.

In other words, heal yourself before you try to heal others.

Apostume or aposteme is a pus-filled abscess, but I thought a more general term like disease better makes the point.

The Dovecote

The men in the dovecote hear the bell of Hexham Abbey ('With my living voice I drive away all things that may do hurt') and the approach of a single rider coming quickly towards them as the evening approaches.

The wait in the dovecote must have seemed interminable to them all, especially Richard, who still cannot seem to grasp why Tom prevented him from going to Hexham. At least Richard's blood fury appears to have waned a tiny bit and the rush of adrenaline from the fight and the pursuit has no doubt subsided, leaving him irritable and impatient, but not in a murderous rage. He has regained some measure of self control.

Still, all Richard cares about is Lymond's status and whereabouts. He does not even appreciate that Acheson was prevented from exposing the Scots' plans and thereby causing untold harm to the nation. He is maniacally focused on Lymond. Tom tries without success to convince Richard that Lymond is no traitor, but Richard refuses to believe him:

There was no softening in Richard’s face. “He had to choose between Grey and you, and he plumped for the likelier prospect, that’s all.…Justifiably: you rescued him, didn’t you?” 

Tom does not have time to deal with this pig-headed fool Culter. He is leaving and washing his hands of this feud. If Richard wants Lymond dead, then by God, Richard can kill him or simply leave Lymond to die. Richard will not do this because he wants his brother "killed publicly and lawfully and painfully and fully conscious." In fact, the last Erskine sees of Richard, he is leaning over Lymond's unconscious body, excitedly tallying his brother's numerous and potentially deadly wounds. Richard's behavior, I must say, is ghoulish.

***

Only Richard and Francis remain in the dovecote, and only Richard is awake. This is a most unusual circumstance: Lymond completely out of commission--and silent. Richard's military training automatically kicks in as he cleans and binds his brother's wounds, all the while noting the old ones made not only by weapons of war but also by the lash, the oars, and, probably most horrifically, the branding iron.

---

Aside: France branded galley slaves with GAL or TF (travaux forcés, 'forced labour'); branding was legal in France until 1832.

---

Richard evinces no pity. His actions appear to be thoroughly mechanical. The exhaustion of the day gives way to a short but deep sleep for Richard.

***
June 25-29

Richard wakes in a stupor, momentarily confused and forgetful of the circumstances until he spies Lymond's limpid blue eyes gazing at him. Richard is all business, building up the fire and putting water on to boil. Lymond's first words tug the thread of memory: "You still snore like a frog." Once again, Richard is compared to the frog of the children's song that Lymond alluded to in their first meeting since Lymond's return to Scotland. (Pt 1, Ch I, Sec 3)

Richard builds a "cathedral of boughs" to protect them from the elements, and Lymond plays upon the ecclesiastical image, telling Richard that if he is waiting to pray over his dead body, he need not delay. Richard is in no hurry and plans, in fact, to keep Francis alive. When Lymond says that "the fenestration seems fairly extensive" he alludes to the many wounds to his body. As Richard prepares to deal more effectively with the injuries than he was able to the night before, Lymond gently mocks him:

“Two chapters of Anatomía Porci [a medieval book of anatomy based on dissection of pigs] and they think they’re Avicenna [the great Persian physician]."

This is the second time Lymond has alluded to himself as porcine. The first was when he arrived at Flaw Valleys and compared himself to St. Anthony's pig. (Pt 4, Ch II, Sec 2) Lymond hardly sounds like a man brimming with venom towards his brother, does he?

Richard does the best he can under the circumstances. His brother's injuries must be very serious because even the voluble Lymond has nothing to say during the cleaning and dressing of his wounds. All the time he is cleansing Lymond's injuries, Richard cannot help thinking that this is the body Mariotta has known so intimately. And this is the man who killed his son. Given this belief, it is no wonder Richard loathes Lymond and wants him dead. But not yet. Not until Lymond is well enough to stand trial.

---

Lymond says he "loves sadism too," but sadism is derived from the name of Count Donatien A.F. de Sade (1740-1815), commonly known as the Marquis de Sade. It is a small, forgivable error.

---

***

Richard spends the rest of the day looking for a new hiding place, one that is both sheltered and remote. Lymond is convinced he is dying and he wants to have it out with Richard before it is too late. He wants to talk about Mariotta. With the little strength he has, fighting against the waves of nausea that come with extreme pain, Lymond pushes Richard hard to listen to what he has to say or never learn the truth: "You idiot...you nearly lost her, but not to me."

Under the circumstances, Richard retains admirable command of himself. Even the doves seem to taunt him with the words of the old Scottish Ballad of Cospatrick:

O rowe my ladye in satin and silk,
And wash my son in the morning milk!

Richard's mind reels with the "resurrected deaths he had died because of Lymond." Richard reaches a crossroads at this moment, and it says a great deal about his character that he chooses to unbuckle his sword belt and agree to hear Lymond out. In reality, Richard could have killed his brother, buried the body, and reported that Francis died of his considerable injuries. No one would challenge him, although some might suspect that Francis was helped along by Richard. Instead, he chooses to listen to the man he just the day before vowed to kill and came very close to so doing.

Lymond is beginning to return to his old, mouthy self, throwing out a reference to the fable of the old man and the three young men, casting himself as the old man. This fable is an odd one for Lymond to allude to at this moment.

The old man in the fable is found planting trees by three young men, who mock him for bothering to do so since he won't live long enough to enjoy the fruit of the trees. The old man tells the young men that he plants the trees because others before him have done things to care for him and he is now doing something for future generations. And besides, no one knows the hour of his death--who knows? He might outlive them all. Which he does. The moral of the fable is two-fold: it is our duty to care for others, especially those who come after us, and no one knows when he will die; the young should not presume they will outlive the old.

Lymond is very subtly telling Richard that all the things he has been doing are for the benefit of others (including you, Richard, if you would pay attention) and fate may determine that he, Lymond, may outlive those who are sure he will die soon.

When Lymond tells Richard that Mariotta is "no marrow of mine," he means she is not his mate (or lover). He does confess to being too forward with her at Midculter when they first met, but he attributes that to his drunkenness, and pledges it will not happen again.

We are now treated to an full-blown Lymond-style explanation of what happened between Mariotta and Francis.

• After the initial encounter at Midculter, Lymond tried to get as far away from Mariotta as possible.
• She ran away from Midculter out of anger and frustration with Richard.
• The English caught her.
• Lymond's men rescued Mariotta from the English and brought her to Lymond's hangout because she fell ill.
• Lymond posits he could have simply returned Mariotta to Midculter dead but untouched.
• Lymond did not send Mariotta any jewels.
• Lymond knows who did send the jewels, and so does Sybilla.

Before he passes out, Lymond alludes to something he once told someone else about truth. I believe he refers to the moment at the fair after the papingo shoot when he is alone with Christian in the fortune teller's tent. He says,

"Truth’s nothing but falsehood with the edges sharpened up, and ill-tempered at that: no repair, no retraction, no possible going back once it’s out." (Pt 1, Ch VII, Sec 2)

Everyone says they want the truth, but frequently they regret hearing it. Truth is a dangerous thing. Once spoken, it cannot be unsaid or unheard. But Lymond seems to be rambling, stringing together divergent imagery and allusions, Greek (Phoenissae), Assyrian (Ninevah), Roman, and Hindu.

---

The elephant's head riding on a rat refers to Ganesha, a Hindu deity. Often called "the remover of obstacles," he is also the god of wisdom and prudence. He is frequently depicted riding on a rat. There are many interpretations of this image, a prominent one being that Ganesha is subduing the pesky, destructive rodent. Also, the animal Ganesha rides is sometimes a mouse, which links this image directly to "The Ballad of the Frog and the Mouse" that made its appearance in Richard and Francis's first encounter. (Pt 1, Ch I, Sec 3) The question here is, who is the Ganesha and who is the rat?

Ganesha on his Rat

---

With Lymond fading in and out of consciousness, Richard is determined that he not die because he is not finished with his brother. Richard tends Lymond with all the skills he has learned in the field among wounded and sick men. He does so with a purpose:

He longed for his brother, desperately ill as he was, to know what was being done for him, and to savour this devoted nursing at his hands.

Why? Why is Richard longing for Francis to know and acknowledge the nursing? Richard muses that Lymond needs two or three weeks of convalescence before he can travel, and this delights Richard. Why? Because Lymond is a man who prizes self-control and who cannot bear dependence on any living being. This forced period of dependency and incapacitation, Richard reckons, should be enough time to break Lymond's carefully constructed façade of self-control and self-sufficiency once and for all. Richard plans to strip him bare emotionally just as he is physically exposed, weak and vulnerable as a newborn--and completely at Richard's mercy. Richard plans to break Francis just as he had promised Mariotta earlier:

“I will bring him to you,” said Richard. “I will bring him to you on his knees, and weeping, and begging aloud to be killed.” (Pt 3, Ch II, Sec 1)

***

Lymond is alone, pondering in pain and under the brutality of a hot early summer sun whether he is experiencing brotherly love or raging madness. Two days of misery have passed with Richard doing what is necessary to keep him alive but little or nothing for his comfort. Richard has been fishing because, as he says sarcastically, he hasn't Lymond talent for killing birds, a none-too-subtle reference to the papingo shoot. Richard, of course, believes Francis shot him at that event.

Perhaps giving in to momentary compassion, Richard moves Lymond out of the sun and asks the interesting question about whether Patey Liddell has ever been whipped. Patey used Crawfordmuir gold to gild the shooting glove for Lymond, who left it at the papingo shoot, a red herring Richard followed to Perth. Richard will happily have Patey whipped, ostensibly for possession of illegal gold but in reality for adding the gold to Lymond's glove, which Richard views as a betrayal and a humiliation.

Richard admits he did not connect the Crawfordmuir gold and Patey at first, but guesses that their mother did. Lymond confirms that. We already knew Sybilla was helping Lymond, but this is the first time Richard has his suspicions confirmed. 

Note that Richard displays some of that Crawford wit himself, just as he did when he saved Agnes Herries in the river:

[Lymond] “How dull of some of you. What a delicious smell. You nurse; you cook. Do you sew?”

[Richard] “I reap..."

The brothers' banter continues with Lymond asking how long Richard was in prison when he refused to obey the Queen Dowager's orders to go to Edinburgh to buck up Arran and she has him briefly imprisoned. (Pt 3, Ch III, Sec 1) Richard's retort is vicious, referring to Lymond's hands scarred at the oars:

Richard rubbed the palm of his hand on his seat, and then held it up, square, clean and unmarked, for Lymond to see. “I was lucky. No one could tell, could they?”

Running down a litany of Richard's failures, Lymond hits his brother hard. Perhaps the toughest blow concerns the fighting at Durisdeer in February when Harry Wharton burned the town to the ground and slaughtered many of its residents. The Scots drove the English back and technically won the battle, but Lymond is telling Richard that the victory was incomplete. The Scots could have and should have stopped "young Harry" Wharton sooner and thus possibly captured Harry's father Lord Wharton and Grey. Instead, it was Lymond and his men who caught Harry Wharton and "shaved and cropped him with his own knife" while both Wharton and Grey escaped to fight another day, which they did and will again.

Richard's excuse for letting the English go is facetious but designed to make the point that he believes Lymond relied upon the enemy for his funding. Lymond is only half joking when he says he relied instead on "force of character," the other lure being money but not as an English agent or spy.

When Richard dangles the "what next" question before Francis, it is Lymond's turn to bite. Lymond's reaction is concern not for himself but for Sybilla, Richard, Mariotta, and any children that might follow. Lymond lays out the case for Richard killing him and avoiding the sensation of a trial:

“The scandal of five years ago will be nothing compared to what they’ll raise in open court. You know damned well I’ll be found guilty: nobody has any illusions about that. But you’ve got the rest of your life to live, and what’s more important, so has Mother and so has your wife. Do you want your sons to have that sort of nauseating exhibition cast up to them?”

The "scandal of five years ago" got Lymond branded traitor when he supposedly turned coat after the battle of Solway Moss where he was taken prisoner by the English. He came back to Scotland less than a year ago in August 1547.

Richard is not buying what Lymond is selling, but Francis refuses to relent. He gives Richard an eloquent tongue lashing for his foolish, single-minded pursuit of him, even though he admits that at first he understood why Richard would feel the need to capture and kill him: "I was labelled cur, and in the end I had to bark. Not entirely your fault." But Richard developed a maniacal obsession that led him astray and away from his duty to his family, his friends, and his country. None of what Lymond says moves Richard, who keeps pushes the fish he has cooked at Lymond.

---

It is necessary to discuss the fish symbolism given that fish or fishing is mentioned nine times in two pages. The obvious symbolism is Christian: Christ is the "fisher of men" and the ichthys is a Christian symbol. But the fish has older symbolic meaning. Fish is a sacred or forbidden food in some near-eastern religions and Orpheus is the "fisher god." This potential connection with Lymond is especially interesting. Orpheus was the musician and poet who was able to charm even the stones with his music: "with his songs, Orpheus, the bard of Thrace, allured the trees, the savage animals, and even the insensate rocks, to follow him." (Ovid, Metamorphoses 11) This sounds a great deal like Lymond, who is able to enthrall and manipulate people with his voice.

---

"Lymond would not break." Try as he might, Richard has not succeeded in bringing his brother to his knees and instead finds himself at a dangerous breaking point, "his hands murderers at his sides." Richard controls his desire to kill Lymond because he has figured out that this is what his brother is trying to drive him to do. Then Richard makes a mistake. He hears a horse in the distance and leaves off cleaning a rabbit to silence his horse. When he comes back, he finds Lymond has taken his knife. This is the first time Lymond has risen from his makeshift bed and his exhaustion shows. Richard knows exactly what Francis has done, but Richard remarks on Lymond's "mental agility" instead:

“This peculiar mental agility of yours has been no friend to you, has it? Without it, you might have survived, harmless, in a lukewarm limbo of drink and drugs and insipid women—”

This is a fascinating insight into Richard's opinion of Francis: dissolute, lecherous, and indifferent except that his slashing tongue and keen intellect keep intervening to get him in trouble. Taking full advantage of Lymond's weakness, Richard sharpens his attack, running down a list of things Lymond must miss from his outlaw life: money, authority, adulation, "the vicarious thrill of defying nations," fame, and "the love of young boys." Is this last an implication that Lymond is homosexual? Unlikely; Richard is probably referring to the fact that Lymond took Will Scott under his tutelage, twisting and manipulating him into his acolyte. This interpretation is borne out by the next phrase: "And your women."

Finally, the first fissure appears: the mention of Christian is the catalyst that initiates the process of breaking Lymond. At last, Richard has figured out what will get to Francis, and he uses this knowledge mercilessly: the people who died because of Lymond. Christian, Turkey Mat, and, worst of all, Eloise, their younger sister.

It seems odd that it took Richard six days to figure out how to destroy Lymond's self-control by taunting him with those whose deaths Francis feels responsible for. Why didn't Richard use this approach sooner? I believe it is because Richard waited until Francis had recovered to an extent where he could engage in a prolonged discussion and react to the jibes. Until this point, Lymond has simply been too ill to give Richard the reaction he is seeking.

Now comes one of the most puzzling and oft-discussed passages in The Game of Kings or any of the books in the series, in fact.

“The only daughter, and the finest child. The most vivid, the most eager, the most intelligent. By now, cherished by her own lover, with her own children in her arms. Once, late at night when you were away, she told me …”

What did Eloise tell Richard? I am sorry to tell you, dear reader, that this question is not answered in this book or, not explicitly, in any other. There are many, many clues to the mystery of what Eloise told Richard, and there is a discussion of this with Dorothy Dunnett herself that explains what Eloise said. However, Dunnett expects a great deal from her readers, so I strongly recommend you to keep reading and decide for yourself by the end of The Lymond Chronicles what Eloise said that so upset Lymond. I do believe the answer becomes clear by the end of the series. I would definitely not read any commentary of this subject because it will spoil a major story line.

What matters now is that Lymond blames himself for Eloise's death. So does Richard, claiming Francis wanted Eloise "burned alive." A change comes over Lymond, one so shocking even Richard is astonished as he is "swept into a ... foreign dimension." Never again would Lymond's pretenses, his mockery, his playacting, his many masks hide his true face from Richard. We hear Lymond speak without art or artifice, a rare event.

“Why? I made one mistake. Who doesn’t?"

Why can't anyone trust him? Why must he be haunted and hunted for one mistake when others make many more and do not suffer as he has? Why does no one show him a shred of charity? Especially Richard, with whom he shares not only the experience of growing up together but also their bond of blood.

Richard is unmoved and unpersuaded.

“Do you think my life,” said Richard violently, “is a matter for your tarnished and paltry conscience?”

There was a silence. Then the Master said at last, “Why else should I say what I have done?”

This is an extremely important moment, but it is one that escapes Richard, as many things do. For all his virtues, Richard is, to put it bluntly, a bit dense. Lymond for once is telling him the unvarnished truth.

Richard does not buy this explanation. He thinks Lymond is simply a whining, sniveling coward afraid of the noose. But not, apparently, afraid of death, because at this moment Lymond attempts to take his own life. Richard will not permit such a clean end. Their struggle is titanic. Richard must be shocked that one who has been so ill could still retain so much physical strength and grim determination. But Richard is also determined, determined that the hangman will not be cheated. Then something unexpected happens:

...an astonishing light broke on Richard.

Blue eyes met grey, and Richard read in them a power and a determination that he suddenly knew were unassailable. Anger left him.

Could this be the beginning of a change in Richard's attitude towards his brother?

Regardless, Richard has to stop Lymond from harming either of them the only way he knows how. He uses all his considerable strength to attack Lymond where he is wounded, causing what must be indescribable agony.

Richard is not willing to let his brother take his own life even though Lymond eloquently and passionately begs to exercise the right of self-execution. Richard at last has what he told Mariotta he wanted: Lymond on his knees weeping and begging to be killed. Turning away, Richard simply walks off to find his mare. When, some time later, he returns "the clearing was empty. It was no longer a sanctuary, he knew, but the antechamber to a solitary, a desperately wanted death." Lymond is gone.

In contrast to Lymond's raw, explicit thoughts and emotions, we do not know how Richard feels or what he is thinking now that he has achieved his goal of breaking his brother.

***
July 7, 1548

In a few paragraphs Dunnett gives us a remarkable precis of the historical events of this summer of 1548 when the Scots with their French allies faced off against the English and their Spanish, German, and Italian mercenaries. The historic nature of most moments is as invisible to those in its midst as air is to us or water is to fish--it is just there, everywhere and nowhere. The participants are all wrapped up tight in their own miseries and worries and frustrations. Then, something happens that changes everything:

Villegagne quietly left Court, and one evening four galleys of the French fleet slipped anchor at dusk and moved with ductile grace out of the Firth of Forth.

---

Nicolas Durand, Sieur de Villegagnon [Villegagne], is one of the most intriguing men who ever lived. In addition to leading the daring voyage that spirited the Scottish Queen to France under the noses of the English, he was a member of the Knights Hospitaller of St. John, who play a central part in The Disorderly Knights, the third book in The Lymond Chronicles. After fighting on behalf of the Knights and Scotland, he led an expedition to the coast of Brazil to help the Huguenots, who were fleeing persecution in Catholic France, establish a colony in the New World. An island there still bears his name.

---

But the ships the English were watching and waiting for never came. Why? Because, in a plan equally daring and foolhardy, they sailed not south but north "over the roof of Scotland" to Dumbarton on the west coast where little Queen Mary embarked for France to be raised in the French court as the future queen of both nations should her eventual marriage to the Dauphin of France come to pass. In Haddington for this historic parliament are both Tom Erskine and Will Scott. Will has news for Tom. Buccleuch is planning to go look for Richard and Francis, something Tom would advise against because this is a Crawford family matter best left to them alone.

---

The Scottish parliament met about a mile outside the besieged town in Haddington Abbey. The town itself was largely under English control since Grey had captured and garrisoned Haddington in February.

---

***
Early-Mid-July

Richard wakes during a wind storm to discover rational thought, facts, humdrum responsibilities, and a powerful urge to go home have crept back into his conscious mind. After all, what is keeping him from leaving? He has achieved what he set out to do:

The graceless, the dissolute, the debauched, the insolent, the exquisite Lymond was obliterated. As he intended, he had broken his brother. He had, indeed, been more merciful than he had intended.

Intermingled with the resurgence of practical concerns and a yearning to return home, despite what Richard knows will be a painful reunion, is something else: a "stiff-jointed thing at the back of his mind was flexing its subconscious limbs and shaking its aged neck and rearing nearer and nearer his waking mind." It becomes an "obsessive compulsion."

Richard must find his brother.

***

And find him he does. Lymond is again close to death and not at all interested in being rescued or redeemed. But Richard is nothing if not stubborn and determined once he makes his mind up to do something. He has decided Lymond is going to live. Richard does the one thing he can to reach Francis. He talks. He talks and talks and talks about their home and childhood, all the mundane bits and pieces of growing up together that over time form the tapestry of memory. 

As he talks, Richard is amazed to discover things he never realized, especially about his father. It occurs to Richard that Lymond was mimicking the second Baron on the road near Annan (Pt 1, Ch I, Sec 3) when he so crudely and cruelly mocked Richard. Moreover, Richard is forced to consider for the first time the real reasons for Francis's refusal to conform to their father's wishes and perversely challenge him at every turn, inviting his wrath and scorn. Did Lymond "go his own way uncaring, and allow Richard his arena"? Or was it something more? Was this Lymond's (and Sybilla's) plan all along, knowing Richard, however gifted an athlete, could never compete with the brilliant second son Lymond who excelled at so much more?

Richard starts to perceive the flickers of comprehension in Lymond's eyes, so he keeps taking like a "mechanical corncrake" until finally Lymond speaks. Francis still wants to die rather than face trial in Edinburgh. In what must have been a total shock to Lymond as it is to many of us readers, Richard has made an about-face. He now wants to "renovate" his brother just enough to get him in the saddle, take him to Leith, and usher him out of Scotland. 

Richard's decision is uncharacteristic of him. Normally a deliberate, careful thinker, Richard's desire to set Lymond free is "a momentous decision [made] purely on impulse" just as his decision two days earlier to find Lymond and save his life was equally impetuous.

The days pass and the brothers spend this time of Lymond "renovation" talking not about the recent, excruciating past but about impersonal issues about which Lymond makes "shrewd observation over the battlefields and spyholds of half Europe." Richard is surprised and impressed by his baby brother. Finally, in a moment of exasperation, Richard says,

"If only you’d come to us after you left Lennox, instead of …" Instead of foundering in self-pity. He could hardly say that.

Once again, Richard is in for a shock. Francis did return to his family four years ago and was promptly shown the door by the Baron, who "tried to enforce the suggestion with a whip," hardly something Lymond would suffer lightly. No one else knew, except perhaps Sybilla, who has been in on Lymond's schemes from the beginning.

And now, what we have all been waiting for: Lymond begins to explain himself at last. His overall strategy since returning to Scotland was to make sure everyone believed that Richard hated his brother and wanted him if not killed then at least captured. This was the only way Lymond could protect Richard from being tainted or even ruined by his ties to him. Lymond is, after all, accused of treason, and everything he has been doing has been to disassociate himself from Richard and ensure everyone knows Richard is a loyal Scot. In order to protect Richard, Francis has to make Richard hate him. To accomplish this schism, Lymond plotted a series of events to ensure Richard's fury would be stoked.

• The fire at Midculter (using green wood to ensure lots of smoke and little fire).
• The "theft" of the silver (to which Sybilla was party).
• The wounding of Janet Beaton to save her from a possibly fatal attack by one of Lymond's overly enthusiastic men.

The problem was that Lymond really was drunk that day at Midculter. He was not playacting:

"I had to drink the whole bloody night through to get enough courage to visit the castle at all."

And his drunkenness led to some unfortunate unplanned results, including the injury to Janet and the "lunatic blunder" with Mariotta. Richard is at last seeing Lymond as he really is, and he knows that Lymond's actions at Hexham were heroic and self-sacrificing. Francis does not want to discuss Hexham, but Richard finally understands his brother's true motives. As they spend more time together and Richard gets to know the adult Francis he has never before encountered, interesting and random thoughts occur to him:

...once, out of an obscure train of thought, said, “Francis. Did you ever tell Will Scott how old you actually are?” 

Lymond looked blank. “No. Should I?” and Richard grinned.

“Probably not. You appear to be immeasurable in his view, like God and the Devil.”

This is an irresistible hint about Lymond's age, one that will not be satisfied until the fourth book in the series, Pawn in Frankincense. Dunnett keeps us guessing and wondering, and Francis's age is alluded to again before it is revealed. What is important right now is Richard's insight: Lymond is ageless and "immeasurable...like God and the Devil."

Francis offers his brother a way out of his promise to nurse him to health and get him out of the country, but as Richard says with wit, "You think I’ll discard in the perpendicular what I favour in the prone?" Next day, Lymond takes matters into his own hands when he tries riding Bryony knowing that taking off unannounced will inflame Richard, which it does. Lymond is testing both himself and his brother with this little stunt. Richard admits his emotions towards Francis are still "in a muddle," but his promise is still good.

Before they depart for Scotland, Lymond again mentions Mariotta and assures Richard what he has already told him about his wife is true. Lymond reintroduces the topic of their sister Eloise and offers to discuss her, but Richard will have none of that. That's unfortunate for us! Just as we think we might finally learn what happened with Eloise, Richard says, "nope. Don't want to go there."

***

July 15

Kate and Gideon are present at a dinner at Lord Grey's house in Berwick where the plans for fortifying and manning Haddington are laid using salt cellars and ale jugs. Kate comments on the linguistic difficulties the English face trying to lead armies from Spain, Germany, Switzerland, and Italy. Moreover, once Grey brings up the "nasty business" of Christian's fall and subsequent death at Flaw Valleys, Kate cannot resist pursuing Lymond's fate. She knows he killed Acheson at Hexham but apparently does not know until now that Lymond escaped.

We first encountered Thomas Palmer, Grey's Scottish engineer and cousin of Samuel Harvey's, in Concerted Attack (Pt. 3, Ch. IV, Sec. 1) while Gideon was in London. On that occasion Palmer was instrumental in Margaret Douglas's discovery of Lymond's role in humiliating Grey at Hume and as leader of the band to which Will Scott belonged. Palmer also speaks of "Ned Dudley"; he was the English captain of the guard at Hume castle during the humiliating events involving Will and Lymond.

Later, Gideon and Kate share a few private moments on the castle ramparts, and we have a view into Kate's dear sweet soul:

"I want to put right the world’s sorrows in a night, and it might take a night and a day."

***
July 16, 1548

The French and Scottish rout of the English and Spanish outside Haddington comprises this short section. Grey badly miscalculated, thinking the enemy were withdrawing from the siege of Haddington. Instead, Palmer and John Ellekar, commander of the 400 horse, are assaulted first by French cavalry and then cut off by French foot. The French kill or capture at least 800 English and Spanish soldiers leaving "a Haddington not only lacking the new forces intended for it, but disastrously bled of Ellerkar, Gamboa and the horsemen who had issued to help."

***

During the frenetic retreat, Palmer is captured by the Scots, led by Wat Scott, who sends Palmer along to Edinburgh with some of his men while he continues south, presumably looking for Richard, whom he finds. The encounter between Buccleuch and Culter is tense and wary. Wat may bluster and bray, but he is a cagey old soul who quickly takes the measure of the situation. He figures out that Richard is traveling with his brother and is not going to turn him over without a fight: "Wat’s experienced eye read the tilt of his [Richard's] right arm with accuracy." Richard has his hand on his sword.

Wat is going to let Richard (and Lymond) pass until the Cockburns arrive, whooping and hollering. They assume Richard has captured his brother and is taking him to Edinburgh for trial. Lymond sees what is happening and makes a half-hearted attempt at escape to keep up appearances for Richard's sake. Wat does not betray Richard to the Cockburns and even tries to help him get away with Lymond.

Sadly, the section ends with a terrible irony: "Richard, after all, escorted his young brother to Edinburgh," but very much against his will and desire. How things between the brothers have changed. In breaking Lymond, Richard broke himself, broke his own anger and hatred and envy and resentment all to pieces.

2. One Loss Is Made Good

Mid-July 1548

It has been "three newsless weeks since Tom Erskine's return from Hexham" and Mariotta's nerves are fraying. Sybilla, on the other hand, at least appears sanguine enough to burst into song and flushed with excitement over Johnnie Bullo's midnight experiment to turn lead into gold. Janet is interested, Mariotta is distracted, and Agnes, once awake, is nervous.

At the behest of Sybilla, Johnnie Bullo has been working on his alchemical experiments at Midculter since they reached an agreement for him to set up his laboratory in late November of last year. (Pt 2, Ch II, Sec 1) 

Bullo's laboratory is a rat's nest of equipment and potions and scrawlings and tools and dirty dishes, all adding to the unfamiliar and strange atmosphere. Johnnie puts on quite the show for the ladies, complete with incantations, a glowing furnace, and smoke--lots and lots of smoke. The smoke is essential to his deception, allowing Bullo's slight of hand in switching the jars to hide the lead bar and replace it with the gold-plated one. Sybilla, of course, knows this is an act, and she will have none of it. In fact, Sybilla went along with the charade as a way of exposing Bullo as a charlatan and, in essence, blackmailing him into doing her bidding. She has half her men with their pikestaffs waiting outside should Johnnie try a quick exit. Bullo is philosophic about the situation:

“Have I made an error? I was under the impression you were buying my services.”

The blue eyes were equally seraphic. “Your services proved a little expensive.”

He shrugged a little. “I did all I could be expected to do, barring manufacture fresh time."

Johnnie and Sybilla's efforts to help Lymond have not worked out quite as planned. He is still no closer to redeeming himself. Sybilla, no fool, knew all along that the alchemy was fraudulent; she only went along with and funded Bullo's experiments as a way to stay in contact with the Gypsy King, and now to force him to do something else for her.

It is time for a new approach, and Johnnie somehow figures into that plan.

***

The last time Richard Crawford was at Midculter was March. "For five months he had carried a sleepless sword and husbanded other, corrupt intentions." Now he is headed home in the dark. Lost in thought and worries about how things will turn out, Richard is careless. Three men overtake and unhorse him. Suddenly, another man arrives and the three attackers slip away without a word. Johnnie Bullo explains to Richard these men were not acting on his orders.

Richard overhears his attackers speaking Romany, which in turn reminds Richard of the three arrows from the papingo shoot (Pt 1, Ch VII, Sec 2): "Vivid in his mind was the firelit room at Stirling, and the stained arrows on the table." This was his first encounter with Bullo and his gypsies and was also another close encounter with death. Richard is only mildly surprised to learn from Johnnie that he is at the mercy of Sybilla, not Lymond, whom Bullo calls "the shrewdest" of the Crawfords. What is Sybilla up to? Richard is off to Midculter as fast as Bryony can carry him to find out.

***

Home at last, Richard hesitates on how best to approach Mariotta. "He had removed all traces of his adventure: he had no idea of posing as a brave but battered warrior. Was it equally unfair to take her unaware like this?" If it is, Richard decides it nonetheless must be done and done now. Mariotta immediately perceives the changes in Richard, both in appearance and in demeanor. Possibly still under the influence of the night's unsettling sorcery, Mariotta looks into Richard's eyes wondering if she will see "the devil" there, but all she sees is herself, "sanely, twice over."

The difficult thing Richard had come to discuss quickly enters the conversation. Mariotta is unhappy that Richard would not believe her assertions of innocence but does believe someone else's. Richard is not off to a good start. Mariotta confronts Richard with a terrible choice: either she is lying about what happened when Francis took her to Crawfordmuir or Lymond is. Which is it?

Richard said steadily, “You had no right to ask me that question, and no right to expect me to make that choice.”

“I knew you wouldn’t make it,” she said. “I knew if you had made it, even in your own mind, that Lymond would be dead. I was only—”

“— Frightening me for the good of my soul,” said Richard,

Mariotta is ferreting out the truth using harsh words and brutal tactics. She wants to find out if Richard really does believe her and Lymond's claims that there was never anything between them. She has her answer: he does, because if Richard believed that she and Francis had betrayed him, Richard would have already killed his brother.

Richard makes an essential admission to Mariotta: he has made his fair share of mistakes. But...

“A mistake is something you build on: it’s the irritant that makes the pearl; the flaw that creates the geyser—but a mistake made twice is a folly..."

Just as earlier Lymond admitted he made "one mistake" that set him on this ruthless, unforgiving path in life, Richard is finally able to acknowledge his own mistakes. And, just as Richard reached some level of understanding and forgiveness of Lymond, so does Mariotta forgive Richard.

[Mariotta] “My dear fool, why am I fighting you and denying you and hurting you except that I am so afraid of you, and of myself; because I love you far too well for peace and gentle harmonies.…

The last stumbling block is removed and the couple can go forward in truth and love. Richard and Mariotta probably have the first real conversation of their marriage, and it leads to forgiveness, deeper understanding, commitment, and acknowledgement of their love for each other.

***

In the final brief but enticing scene between Richard and Sybilla, she immediately knows two things: that Mariotta and Richard have made up and that Richard did not kill Francis ("you wouldn't have kissed me, would you?"). But she does not know until now that Lymond is imprisoned and about to stand trial in Edinburgh. Despite what must be a terrible fear for Lymond's life, Sybilla is pleased to learn that Richard has come round and actually tried to help his brother escape:

She drew a finger down his cheek and said, “That was remarkably well done, no matter what came of it. You won’t regret it, either."

Sybilla will not go see Francis in prison in part because it would "only weaken him" and in part because she has places to go and people to see, people who apparently will be none too pleased to see her.  Like Lymond, Sybilla remains an insoluble mystery to Richard.

Questions

1. Given the events in Hexham Abbey, were you surprised that Tom Erskine was so willing to leave Lymond to die in the dovecote? 
2. Why did Richard decide not to kill Lymond when he had both the opportunity and the motive to do so?
3. What was the "one mistake" Lymond says he made?
4. Who sent the jewels to Mariotta?
5. Right before Lymond passes out, he says to Richard, “God, I forgot. You don’t like glovers.” Why do you think Lymond alludes to the episode with the gilded glove from the papingo shoot that led Richard on a merry chase at Christmas?
6. When Richard finally has what he said he wants--Lymond on his knees weeping and begging to die--does Richard savor the moment? How does he feel after breaking Lymond?
7. Why does Richard change his mind and decide to spirit Lymond out of Scotland rather than take him to Edinburgh to stand trial? 
8. What does Richard's question to Francis about his age imply?
9. Why does Dunnett include Kate and Gideon in the scene with Grey and Palmer? Their presence is not necessary to the plot, so there must be another reason they are in the scene.
10. Why does Buccleuch change his mind and try to help Richard and Lymond get away?
11. Why does Sybilla believe she now needs to expose Johnnie Bullo as a fraud and blackmail him to help her when before she was simply paying him? 

Favorite Line

You choose to play God, and the Deity points out that the post is already adequately filled.

Words that Describe Lymond in Strange Refuge

• suicidal
• hopeless
• angry
• despairing
• exhausted
• frustrated
• guilty
• honest
• direct
• afraid
• determined
• weak
• defeated
• desolate
• manipulative (still)

Part Four. The End Game. Chapter II. The Ultimate Check 1. The Fast Moves

This very long and emotionally draining chapter needs to be discussed part by part.

June 5-19, 1548

Kate has caged the tiger and now lets him prowl around her home, but always on a leash.

Lymond is also a self-described snake in the garden of Flaw Valleys, a feline Kate does not trust but does find irresistible to nudge and probe. What are Kate's motives with Lymond? Foremost among them is trying to ferret out his story and come to understand just what makes him tick. To do this, she needs to gain his confidence so he will share his confidences with her. That is no easy task because Lymond has erected so many defenses. However, she is remarkably good at breaking them down, often by doing and saying less. He tells her more than he wants in his few outbursts.

For example, when Kate asks Lymond why he won't "bite back" at her jibes, he answers her honestly:

"Because...I am a constant practitioner of the art and you are not."

In other words, "I am a professional at verbal attacks and you, dear Kate, for all your wit and insight, are a rank amateur by comparison." In short, he refuses to attack and hurt her when he knows he could.

Kate also talks about the "normal life" on two occasions, wondering aloud if Lymond believes he will ever have one. She knows of his "permanently unsettled regime" from Gideon and seems genuinely concerned Lymond has created for himself conditions so dire and desperate that he may not survive them and, if he does, he will forever be an outcast.

Kate's probing eventually gets to Lymond. At one point he experiences an outburst of passionate feeling when she presses too hard:

"...I prize freedom of the mind above freedom of the body. I claim the right to make my own mistakes and keep quiet about them...My life is at your disposal, but my thoughts are not."

Pythonissa, the Sorceress

Kate recovers instantly, saying she only wanted to know "a few basic facts," such as whether or not he eats goose eggs. It is a nice recovery, but she must have been deeply stung by the depth and ferocity of his anger. In fact, at this point she decides to stop probing Lymond, and he responds with an unexpected smile and an odd sort of compliment, calling Kate "Pythonissa," a sorceress. His defenses are definitely weakening. He genuinely likes Kate.

Kate is also interested to observe Lymond's attempts to get on better terms with Philippa. His efforts fail utterly. The child loathes him with all her heart and wants him gone from her home. Even his touching the family's possessions is an affront to her. Her beloved music, something she and Lymond have in common, cannot break Philippa's rock-hard defenses. She is more stubborn than he is! Kate listens to the exchange, as Philippa lashes out at Lymond, saying,

"Leave my mother and father alone. Nobody wants you here!" 

Kate was afraid for her.

Italian Tenor Lute
Padua, 17th Century

Why is Kate afraid for Philippa? It is surely not because she thinks Lymond might hurt the child. It is because Kate knows the pernicious effects of simmering, unchecked hatred, especially in one so young. It warps the soul. In fact, Kate has gone out of her way to try to teach Philippa if not forgiveness then at least compassion for Lymond, to no avail.

But out of this disastrous scene comes a moment of rare candor for Lymond as Kate asks and he answers questions about his past. She learns his mother originally taught him to play, despite his father's animosity towards music ("not only did music make men mad, only madmen indulge in it") and, by implication, hostility towards Lymond himself. Interesting. We know very little about Lymond's father.

Tiger, Contemplating Giving His
Hind Legs for Lymond's Coordination

Kate continues the gentle probing to find out more about Lymond's past, about this father who had no use for music, something she knows must have tormented Lymond. She learns nothing more about the father but does find out something she had not known: Lymond has a brother who is quite the athlete. At first she accepts Lymond's assent that his brother is the athlete in the family and Lymond's gifts lie in music and languages, that is, until she recalls what Gideon had said after his stay with Lymond in the Tower: "He can outshoot them and outfight them and outplay them: he's got a coordination that a hunting tiger would give his hind legs for."

Thus, Kate realizes, Lymond's demurral is another feint, another disguise. He now goes on to admit, however obliquely, that he is not only a musician and a polyglot, he is also a gifted athlete, soldier, and much more. When Lymond says, "Nothing arouses suspicion quicker than genuine, all-round proficiency," we know he is not only speaking from his own experience, he is also being disingenuous about his talents, skills, and abilities.

Aside: Notice that Lymond tells Kate he "never cared for it" when referring to military skills, yet he excels at them as he does at everything, and he has become skilled at leading men, too.

Almost amazingly, once "the pressure was lifted," Lymond discloses even more about his past when he refers to his ultimate crime against his sister. He stops instantly at this disclosure, realizing that Kate's patient listening has opened the floodgates of his memories and previously unspoken thoughts, "one of the penalties of being incommunicado for five years." He has had no one, no one, to talk to for five years, the years during which his mother says he became on "artist in the vivisection of the soul."

Now that she has cracked the shell and is peering inside, Kate cannot resist asking what is on her mind: is there any chance this young man could ever have what might be considered a "normal life"? Lymond reveals one last, dangerous fact to Kate: that his brother wants to kill him. He does not explain and Kate knows enough not to press him further, but Lymond does offer her one assurance about his brother's desire to kill him: "If it's going to happen, it won't happen here." Well, now, that's a comfort to Kate, I'm sure.

***

Gideon returns the next day (June 19) with terrible news for Lymond: Samuel Harvey is dying. After talking to Kate, Gideon offers Lymond a horse so he can try to reach Harvey before it is too late. It says a great deal about Gideon and Kate that he wants her opinion and approval before offering the horse, and I am sure Gideon is extremely curious if Kate's opinion of the unwanted house guest has changed while he was away. It has, so much so that Kate probably encouraged Gideon to move quickly with this plan (she, after all, was "already through the door" collecting what Lymond would need for his travels).

Once again, Gideon vents his frustration over the waste of a life that Lymond represents. The fact that his "own people" in Scotland have branded him a traitor when it is clear to Somerville that this cannot be true infuriates every practical bone in his practical body. How practical? As soon as the visitor was gone, both he can Kate "turned and went about their business" with no fuss or gnashing of teeth over whether their decision was the right one.

***

We find out how Will Scott has spent the two weeks while Lymond was at Flaw Valleys: looking for his former Master and finding instead two members of Lymond's old gang, one friendly and one very much not.

Will gives up and goes back to his father's home, only to find there Richard Crawford, who quickly learns from Will's agile reaction that the young Scott has learned a trick or two from Lymond. Here is something odd: it appears that Richard does not know until this moment that Lymond escaped from Threave. I suppose it is possible that word had not reached Richard of his brother's disappearance from Threave, but given his passionate pursuit of Lymond, it seems unlikely that this is the first he has heard of it. I think it more likely that Richard is expressing his disbelief that this was less a miraculous escape and more a carefully executed breakout with help, possibly even from Will. Richard remains unconvinced of the younger Scott's return to the fold, which is why Culter refuses to discuss the current political situation in front of him.

The French fleet is anchored off the Scottish coast and France is promising to help drive the English out of Scotland for two huge concessions: the first is a number of Scottish forts; the second is of far greater strategic importance. They want the little Queen sent to France to be raised in the French court and affianced to whomever the Dowager Queen and the French King decide.

This seems like a high price to pay, but as Buccleuch and Culter point out to each other, the other option is worse: England keeping Scotland under the English heel while the French King seeks alliance with the Holy Roman Emperor.

Buccleuch, with his typically "brilliant lack of tact" asks after Sybilla, and Richard's tart reply make it clear that, if Lymond is trying to drive a wedge between Richard and the rest of the Culters, Richard is making his task an easy one. Wat Scott is a shrewd observer; no one could survive as a border laird as long as Buccleuch without having a keen eye and a sharp mind. Just not a tame and tactful tongue.

***

Richard, Buccleuch, and Tom Erskine are among those present the following day at Holyrood when the decision is announced to send the little Queen to France via a circuitous route, one the Scots and French hope will leave the English fretting "at an empty mousehole" along the east coast.

Tom has the decidedly unpleasant task of relaying to Richard the news from Lord Grey that the English will not ransom Christian. They want an even exchange: her for Lymond. It appears neither the English nor the Scots have any idea of Lymond's whereabouts! Wouldn't they be surprised to know he's almost just around the corner.

***

Lymond is waiting at George Douglas's town house for George to return from the same meeting at Holyrood. Notice how friend George so seamlessly moves from side to side (English to Scottish), an ease undoubtedly best explained by the fact that George has only one side: his own. He has money from the French to play for their team and a safe-conduct letter to the English asking for the return of his son, so life is good for George. That is, until he swings into his Edinburgh house to find Lymond.

George has the upper hand for the simple reason that, for Lymond's threat of blackmail to work, Samuel Harvey has to be alive and he is not. It is interesting to find out that the proof of his death was convincing "because, rare among George Douglas's fantasies, the story was true." George is perfectly willing and able to bend, distort, and otherwise torture truth to suit his ends, making him an especially dangerous adversary and a difficult partner.

But it is only later, after what appears to be a rather lengthy discourse ("after the man had come to light the tapers"), that George administers the ultimate blow: Grey wants Lymond in exchange for Christian Stewart. This is news to Lymond, a fact he does nothing to hide from Douglas. Lymond readily assents to George's plan to use the safe-conduct letter to get him across the border and into Berwick so he can offer himself in exchange for Christian. It is an arrangement that suits both men, which explains why George is "for once in his life...perfectly frank."

Lymond's final, bitter quotation refers to a form of excommunication in the Catholic church, through which the excommunicant is anathematized and delivered to Satan for the mortification of his body. His final words are the most chilling and worth remembering:

"Why else was I born?"

This is a recurring theme in The Lymond Chronicles, Francis Crawford's search for a purpose and meaning to his life. He believes, at this moment, the meaning may be found in the sacrifice of his life for Christian's.

Questions

1. Why does Kate begins to "thaw" towards Lymond despite the way he treated her and Philippa on his earlier visit? He still seems distant and even a bit hostile.
2. What does Lymond see in Kate that makes him eventually open up to her?
3. Is Lymond trying to drive a wedge between his family members, with Sybilla and Mariotta on one side and Richard on the other? If so, why?
4. Do you think Richard really had not heard of Lymond's escape from Threave?
5. Why does George Douglas wait so long to tell Lymond the most important piece of information, i.e., that the English want to exchange Christian Stewart for him?

Favorite Line

"...Gideon would help cook his father if the cannibal quoted poetry at him," said Kate.

Words that Describe Lymond in The Fast Moves

• reserved
• apologetic
• undemanding
• reticent
• clever
• witty
• engaging
• ingratiating
• patient (with Philippa)
• rueful
• amiable
• insightful
• honest
• grateful
• poised
• mocking
• bitter
• resigned

Part Four. The End Game. Chapter I. Twice Taken. 1. Forced Play Against Time

Ruins of the Lymond Convent

June 1, 1548

Lymond's band is dissolved with his customary heavy handedness when it comes to this group of rogues and misfits. Realizing they will not be happy about the slaying of the golden goose, the Master has Turkey Mat hide most of the men's pay as an inducement to accept the inevitable. And, of course, Lymond is correct when he says the men could not make him stay if they tried. There is a reason beyond his title they call him "Master."

Will is unhappy on multiple fronts. He wants the band to become his, but he is smart enough to realize that is not going to happen. The dissolution means it is time for Lymond to travel to England to meet Samuel Harvey on June 2, that is, time for Will Scott to act. He has been watching messengers come and go at the Ostrich Inn for some time and knew beforehand the end of the band was nigh.

It is interesting that Lymond trusted Will to hide the gold that is the pay of the men "with special claims"--and that Lymond himself does not know where the gold is hidden. Furthermore, Lymond does not guess that Will has hidden the gold in the convent where his sister died until they have already passed it. This seems unlike Lymond, who is almost always several steps ahead of everyone, especially Will Scott. Has he actually come to trust Will? I don't think so. Has he dropped his guard? So it seems, but the question then is why? Why is he so distracted?

Lymond is in no doubt whatsoever that Will has betrayed him (and Turkey) to Andrew Hunter. Did Will figure Turkey Mat's life into his bargain with death? Will seems willing to die himself if need be, and Lymond sounds as though he means it when he says "if I were alone I'd say throw and be damned." But at the last moment, Lymond takes the offensive when Will's eyes are momentarily diverted to follow the sword that Lymond throws across the floor. And the Master would have subdued his well-trained pupil had Will not hidden a small knife on his person.

What is Will's motive for the betrayal? He tells himself repeatedly, even obsessively, it is because Lymond is a cold, calculating killer, a murderer of "girls": "Kill girls! He could kill girls..." Will seems to have a morbid fascination with Lymond's relationship with females: Christian is a "girl" Lymond has used and abused. Mariotta he mercilessly bullied and killed her child. Eloise is the sister he murdered and even now seems to feel nothing for. Even Margaret Douglas has been treated crudely and cruelly by the Master. However, I believe Lymond's analysis of Will's motives is far more incisive and does in fact lay out a true one: revenge.

"...revenge ... for every doubt and indignity and misery that Scott had suffered [at Lymond's hands]."

It is also important to remember that Will still believes Lymond is planning to sell him to the English, which is also a powerful motive for betraying the Master.

*** 

"heartsease quailed under their hoofs..."

Will does not know until Lymond is brought out of the ruins if he has killed his former leader or merely wounded him. The injury to Lymond's shoulder is not serious enough to shut Lymond's irreverent, sardonic mouth.

The contrast between Will and Lymond is stark: both are dirty and injured and disheveled, but Lymond retains his cat-like cool while Scott's every emotion plays out on his face.

I would be remiss if I did not call attention to the beautiful, expressive language of this section's penultimate paragraph, which describes the countryside and the convent, "wearing the nimbus of its injuries like a coronal," as Hunter's men take the injured Lymond and Turkey Mat away.

***

In the last chapter we found out that Lymond had been substituting his messages for Will Scott's, thanks to Sybilla's intervention. However, Will has managed to communicate on his own with Hunter (probably using the Ostrich Inn), as Sybilla learns at the convent. She sends Johnny Bullo to warn Lymond, but he is too late. Remember, however, that she has the presence of mind to tell the Ballaggan messenger to suggest Hunter take his captive to Threave castle, the home of Agnes Herries and John Maxwell, now Lord Herries. These are people who will definitely be sympathetic to Lymond and may even try to help him.

Asmodeus depicted as a goat ridden
by a witch holding her familiar (the cat)

Lymond's painful silence on the ride to Threave is broken when Dandy Hunter says something. But what does he say that sparks the reply from Lymond about not being Asmodeus, the king of the demons, most especially the demon of lust and the destroyer of marriages? Dunnett does not tell us; perhaps Hunter says something to Lymond like, "Well, the least you could do is to apologize for your horrid behavior." Doesn't that sound like something Dandy would say?

Hunter understands Lymond's classical reference, which explains why his face goes from red (angry) to white (guilty). The color drains out of his face because Lymond is implying something extremely ugly about Hunter's relationship with Mariotta. But Dandy is cool enough not to rise to Lymond's provocation. Immediately after this Lymond throws Mariotta's name out to Hunter. Once again, Lymond shows he knows there has been a relationship of some sort between Dandy and Mariotta.

Will Scott also blurts out another of his reasons for betraying the Master, that is, his conviction that Lymond was about to betray him to the English if Will didn't betray him to the Scots first. Before Lymond can reply, Turkey Mat foolishly and tragically seizes this moment to escape.

Hunter's men enjoy the chase and the kill, and Dandy is hardly bothered at all that a man is dead. He apologizes for Turkey's death to Will, not to Lymond, because he holds the Master in complete contempt. Turkey wants to know from Lymond if Scott prevented his escape, but Lymond tells him that he chose not to take the opportunity Mat gave him to break free. Turkey Mat's death is so pointless and sad it is easy to imagine how this wounds Lymond. I do not think it is giving anything away to say it will not be the last death for which he blames himself. At least Turkey dies with a "pleased look, as if a sunny beach and a flat board and a pair of celestial dice had manifested themselves among the leaves." He comes across as a man who lived his life at full tilt and died without regrets.

***

Threave Castle

Dunnett's ominous description of Threave is shockingly visceral, comparing the
stench of violence there with the powerful, feral odors of frightened, angry animals. Scott is relieved John Maxwell is away and that he and Hunter will have Lymond as their prisoner to humiliate and torment until Buccleuch arrives. However, Lymond has other plans, and quickly gets the hostile crowd on his side using his own brand of irreverent humor and wit, which is, "like Cupid, a notorious locksmith." Lymond's plan to disarm the crowd ends abruptly after ten minutes, and he goes mute. But why? We are left to wonder for now.

Peine Forte et Dure Torture

The easy laughter and enjoyment of their prisoner quickly turns very ugly in the face of his silence, leading to the horrendous scene of torture using the application of increasingly heavy weights. Dunnett describes Lymond as "capriciously vain" but not foolish, meaning he would bear the pain as long as he could but he would not purposely risk his life. At this point Will almost misses the flickering of Lymond's lashes as he briefly looks upward beyond the crowd. Will does the same, and there he sees Christian.

Now everything happens in a whirlwind. Buccleuch and his men arrive, Christian and Sym push through the crowd to confront him about his "whelp's" behavior, Christian forces her way to Lymond while Sym removes the chains weighing the Master down, and Christian confesses she knew who Lymond was all along: "I've known your voice since I was twelve." What an impression it must have made on the lass!

The yard erupts in the kind of ribald laughter Lymond has desperately tried to prevent to avoid tainting Christian by any association with him. He tries again, desperately, to dissociate himself from Christian by mocking red-headed women. By now, the captain and the crowd know their sport has ended, and Lymond is released to be taken to a "fine, dry cellar" of a prison. Before he can move from the place of his torment, and to Will Scott's surprise, Lymond faints. The way Lymond cups his face in a "gesture of half-comic resignation" shows he is in control until the last possible moment before his strength gives out, but even he has his physical limits, and this situation is too much for him.

***

Will Scott cannot make up his mind what side he wants to be on, much to the fury of his father, who never takes much to provoke him anyway. Buccleuch's solution is to stick his son in the cellar with Lymond, a rather neat punishment and one Will deserves after his betrayal. Will fights every step of the way to his prison because, as Dunnett says with her usual wit and understatement:

There is nothing very jolly about being locked in a cellar with a man whom, in every possible sense, you have just stabbed in the back.

Andrea della Robbia: The Announcing Angel

With his "very thews melted with apprehension," Will discovers Lymond at his ease, stretched out like a cat, "impeccably neat" (as always), with all that was unsightly removed from his appearance. Furthermore, his face was that of a "Della Robbia angel," something to store in the back of your mind for future reference.

And now...now Will Scott is about to have the very large and horny scales drop from his eyes in ways he never imagined or suspected. Now that all his plans have been thwarted and there is no longer any way for him to get to Samuel Harvey, Lymond at last clues Will in on what has been going on. The fact that he did not trust Will with this information before now is a measure both of Lymond's general lack of trust in others and his specific lack of trust in Will Scott, which the day's events appear to justify. You could make the case that Lymond might have avoided this fate if he had shared the truth with Will, but the Master is a great judge of character, and his judgment is that Scott is too emotional, too conflicted, too immature, and too unpredictable to be trusted with the truth.

Certainly, Will's sketch of Lymond's character in this scene supports this conclusion. What claims does Scott make?

• His father would have protected Turkey Mat.
• Lymond "hates women" in general.
• Lymond wrecked the lives of four women (Christian, Margaret, Mariotta, and Eloise).
• Lymond has hunted "poor Harvey" like a thing from beyond the grave.
• Lymond betrayed his country by selling the letters Will copied to the English.

Of course, not one of these claims contains an iota of truth, a fact that we observe as it slowly works its way into Will's consciousness. We learn, for example, that Lymond orchestrated Will's "escape" from the tower with Mariotta:

"I leave you to work out why, having seduced my sister-in-law and slaughtered my nephew, I should keep coy silence while you shuffle downstairs at three in the morning with that bantling-brained romantic done up in an oatsack."

Oops. One can only vaguely imagine how Will Scott feels by the end of this encounter, but surely even Will would agree that Lymond's description of him fits all too well:

"You pathetic, maladroit nincompoop, you're never right; but this time you can squat in your misconceptions like duck's meat in a ditch, and let them choke you."

Near the end of the section, Lymond refers to the earlier moment when, as they are leaving the Ostrich Inn after a night of madcap and riotous activity, he encourages Will to look up at the "teaching stars, beyond worship and commonplace tongues. The infinite eyes of innocence." (Pt 2, Ch I) Will was deaf to Lymond's offering that first time. Has he heard him now? Will he understand what he is being offered? Has he had a moment of epiphany and learned something about himself and, more importantly, about Lymond?

*** 

Aside: Once again, I recommend Laura Caine Ramsey's guide to The Game of Kings when reading the exchange between Lymond and Will, which is packed with allusions ranging from the Malleus Maleficarum to Norse mythology.

***

The Night of June 1, 1548

John Maxwell is a clever man. He cannot lift a finger to help Lymond and must be seen to be on Hunter and Buccleuch's side; hence the congratulatory note on Lymond's capture. Enter the redoubtable Agnes Herries, sent by her husband, "as was fitting," to see to the guests. All the guests. Watch how Agnes manipulates these men like a pro. First, she storms in at eleven at night, waking Buccleuch and demanding an explanation for Will's incarceration with the "desperate man" in the cellar. As only Agnes can, she argues and contradicts and harangues until Wat Scott gives up and agrees to let his son out of the cellar. Will is more than willing to oblige, but he does not do so quickly enough for Agnes when he sees that all his father's men have been replaced with Maxwell's. Agnes will have none of his loitering and sends him to bed with a "vigorous impatience" and a loud thud of the trap door banging shut. What the heck just happened?

***

Now we know: Agnes not only leaves the trap door unbolted, she has the utter gall to scold Will for being the one who failed to lock Lymond back in! Will cannot contradict the lady of the house, whose own men will confirm her story (of course). Furthermore, Will's father accepts Agnes Herries' version without question in part because he believes his son wanted Lymond to escape and in part because he cannot imagine Agnes would let a desperate rogue out of his prison in her own house and then lie about it. All Will can do is quietly accept the censure and try to find Lymond.

Agnes once again proves her mettle. Atta girl, Agnes!

***

June 2, 1548

At last, Sybilla and Mariotta talk to each other. It has been a long time coming and the Dowager Lady Culter is loathe to broach the subject of her son's marriage to Mariotta, but the anxiety of waiting without a word about Lymond's fate pushes Sybilla over the edge. She has clearly been wanting to say these things to her daughter-in-law and this seems like as good a time as any. At least it will divert them both!

I find it fascinating that Sybilla uses Janet and Buccleuch as an example of a marriage that works, but it makes sense. First, Mariotta knows them both well and has had ample opportunity to see Janet in action with a man far more stubborn and dense and far less sensitive and caring than Richard. Surely if Janet can manage to have so much influence on Wat Scott and "manage" him so fluently, Mariotta's task with Richard should be far easier. 

The other example--the Maxwells--shows Mariotta the opposite extreme from Janet and Wat. Janet is anything but a romantic, whereas Agnes created a fantasy that John Maxwell played into, with Lymond's help. But both Agnes and Janet share something in common: both are intensely interested in their husbands and understand what each man values and wants the most. This, Sybilla makes clear to Mariotta, is what she has not done. She really has taken little interest in Richard, has learned little of the man she married, and really does not understand what he values and wants and needs. Fortunately, Richard's mother is wise enough to tell Mariotta just enough to help her without telling her so much that she makes Mariotta want to give up.

What Sybilla says about Lymond and Richard's relationship is very, very telling:

"Your tragedy was that the man you became involved with was the very person who created the flaw in Richard's maturing. And if that was anyone's fault, it was probably mine..."

How revealing. And, at the same time, how unrevealing. There is a flaw in Richard that has hindered his growing up and Lymond was the cause. Mother (possibly) blames herself. That's all we know from what Sybilla says--not what Richard's flaw is; not what Lymond did to create it; not what Sybilla did or did not do to instigate the sibling rivalry, if that is what this is. All things to ponder and keep in mind as the future unfolds.

When Christian finally arrives at Midculter, Tom Erskine is there and about to have the shock of his life. We already know that Christian recognized Lymond from their first encounter at Boghall; now we find out that both Sybilla and Christian have been working--separately, it appears--to help Lymond. Sybilla worked out fairly early on that Christian recognized Lymond and was helping him. The "keenest ears in Scotland" belong to Christian, who was present when Lymond appeared at Monteith as the monk and told little Queen Mary the riddle, which was one invented by none other than Sybilla. Also, let us not forget that Sybilla has had contact with her younger son through intermediaries, so she most likely knew about Christian's assistance through those sources.

One of those means, in addition to Sybilla's "normal thought processes," would be Johnnie Bullo, with whom Sybilla expresses disappointment for turning out to be "rather much of an individualist," but she does not elaborate. One thing we definitely know about Johnnie is his propensity to gossip, which leaves little doubt he would have enjoyed telling Lymond's mother about what happened between her son and Christian at Boghall.

And then there is Samuel Harvey, a name mentioned not only by Christian but also by Richard and Andrew Hunter, tying all three of them to Lymond in different ways. Christian does not know the whole story of Harvey, but she knows George Douglas is involved somehow, so she is determined to see him and, "by persuasion and threats," make him help Lymond. Hmmm. How well does she know friend George? Not well, if she thinks either persuasion or threats will move him to help. George will require something that appeals to his self interest.

Tom is not so easily swayed, viewing Sybilla's attempts to help Lymond as natural maternal instinct. But Christian's behavior has him flummoxed. Why would she knowingly help this outlaw? It is left to Sybilla to explain the inexplicable to Tom, that is, Christian's own natural instincts to help a "lame duck" and right an injustice are just as strong as her maternal leanings. Sybilla points out what Tom already knows: Christian is neither someone easily gainsaid nor someone easily beguiled. Furthermore, Lymond is, according to Sybilla, an "artist in the vivesection [sic] of the soul" because he has been the one under the knife for the past five years.

Sybilla leaves Tom and Mariotta (and us) with the puzzling comment that Lymond is "probably the only person in the world now who can restore Richard to any sort of terms with his own future" and send Richard back to Mariotta. The latter claim is easily understandable because Lymond can convince Richard as no one else can of his, Lymond's, total indifference towards Mariotta. But just how Lymond can restore Richard to his future remains a mystery to be revealed.

***

Sunday, June 3

This is the day after Lymond was to meet Samuel Harvey in Wark. He arrives at Wark Castle too late. Harvey, a busy man, is gone. Gideon Somerville initially thinks Lymond's tardiness is an indication that he did not really care about the meeting and, worse, that Lymond is drunk, when in fact, he is exhausted from traveling at a breakneck speed on foot from Threave carrying with him all his injuries. Once Gideon realizes Lymond's true state, he immediately puts him to bed in good, practical Somerville fashion.

June 4

The next morning Lymond is in a far better and cleaner state and spouting all manner of obscure quotations, much to Gideon's annoyance, which leads to one of Dunnett's most cited and beloved lines:

"I wish to God," said Gideon with mild exasperation, "that you'd talk--just once--in prose like other people."

And then, amazingly, Gideon gets his wish after one more "malicious" quotation from Roger Ascham, a noted Protestant, which leads to Lymond's comment about Luther, whose views were not surprisingly deemed heretical by the Scottish Parliament. Now Gideon and Lymond have a serious, straightforward (by Lymond's standards) conversation about the potential benefits of an alliance between Scotland and England. Probably the clearest explanation of these events comes from Dunnett herself early in the book:

Henry, new King of France, ... felt his way thoughtfully towards a small cabal between himself, the Venetians and the Pope, and wondered how to induce Charles [the Holy Roman Emperor] to give up Savoy [in the Western Alps and strategically important to France as a gateway to Italy], how to evict England from Boulogne, and how best to serve his close friend and dear relative Scotland without throwing England into the arms or the lap of the [Holy Roman] Empire. (Opening Gambit)

Here's the situation in brief. The English control Boulogne in northern France just south of Calais, which is also under English control. The French want it back. Earlier in the book, Buccleuch says there is a rumor that the French and English will "promise neutrality" towards Scotland if the English agree to give up Boulogne (Pt 2, Ch 1). Now Lymond opines that France might sell out Scotland in return for the English surrender of Boulogne, even though he does not think so.

As an Englishman, Gideon is worried because Scotland keeps getting outside help from "the dregs of Europe" and attacking England by injecting these foreign fighters "into our backside." Worse, the Scottish ambassador to France, David Panter, is working for a separate peace between Scotland and the Holy Roman Emperor, something neither England nor France would like. Meanwhile behind Scotland's back, France is trying for its own separate peace with England.

Lymond points out to Gideon one of the major stumbling blocks for any peace between their two countries, that is, under Henry VIII Scotland suffered terribly and that suffering has bred a deep hatred of the English by the Scots. Nonetheless, the Scots Commissioners keep reopening talks for a marriage between England's boy king Edward and little Queen Mary whenever the country feels threatened.

The Queen Dowager of Scotland is plotting to keep the Scottish Governor Arran quiet by promising to marry her daughter Queen Mary to his son while she is simultaneously planning to bring more French into Scotland. But Lymond argues that the French are stretched too thin to effectively rule Scotland, so Scotland would be better off under France, which is separated by distance and rough waters, than under England, with which it shares a very porous border.

Edward VI of England
by William Scrots, c 1550

Lymond also alludes to the dangers of religious warfare, "the bloodiest emotion" he knows, the ultimate in the "honest emotion" of hatred that Henry VIII so effectively showed to the Scots and which they reciprocated. Despite his claim to the contrary, Lymond does offer Gideon a solution: let little Queen Mary leave Scotland and grow up in France, where there is no religious conflict; let Mary of Guise have the power in Scotland and "keep the throne warm" for her daughter; go ahead and arrange the marriage between England's Edward and Mary of Scotland so that, if both sides behave themselves, the contract will be honored when the children come of age. 

Sadly, Gideon acknowledges that this "intelligent" approach is not going to happen because the Protector's own position is "shaky" and he cannot afford to do anything to undermine his tenuous hold on power, which Lymond's plan would.

But Gideon is impressed, very impressed, by Lymond's clear, unemotional, logical understanding of the situation, which makes him curious why Lymond is not providing these insights to "his people" in Edinburgh. Gideon has figured out that the "one woman" who has caused and continues to cause Lymond trouble is Margaret Douglas. This was not hard for Somerville to discern given his interesting encounter with the Countess of Lennox in London in April (Pt 3, Ch IV). Unfortunately, injecting Margaret into the conversation causes the "barrier of nationality" to fall between them and the "shutters" that had momentarily opened close again.

Now for the interesting part: Gideon will arrange another meeting for Lymond with Samuel Harvey on his way back from Haddington. But until then, Gideon has to find a safe place for Lymond, and the only place he believes will ensure Lymond's security is the Somerville home at Flaw Valleys. Lymond experiences what is for him a very rare emotion: he is taken aback and completely perplexed by Gideon's plan. He "should dearly like to know why" Somerville not only trusts him enough to arrange another meeting with Harvey but also has enough faith in him to leave him alone with his wife and daughter in their own home.

Gideon understands his rationale no better than Lymond: it is "something that Gideon did not even know clearly himself." It seems that Lymond is not the only person who is a fine judge of character and an excellent reader of men.

Questions

1. Why does Lymond say everyone finds Dandy Hunter "irresistible"?
2. What do you think Hunter says to Lymond to provoke his response about Asmodeus?
3. According to Dunnett, Will Scott knows very well why Turkey Mat bolted. Why did he?
4. What did Johnnie Bullo do that disappointed Sybilla by showing he was "rather much of an individualist"?
5. What is the "flaw" Lymond created in Richard?
6. Why does Gideon Somerville decide on what seems to be the spur of the moment to trust Lymond enough to allow him to wait at Flaw Valleys for the meeting with Harvey?

Favorite Line

"I wish to God," said Gideon with mild exasperation, "that you'd talk--just once--in prose like other people."

Words that Describe Lymond in Forced Play Against Time

• preoccupied
• really furious (with Will)
• surprised
• sardonic
• deeply saddened
• disgusted
• disappointed
• exhausted
• worried
• resigned
• perplexed
• snide
• guilty
• passionate
• dispassionate