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 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

Part Three. The Play for Samuel Harvey. Chapter IV. Concerted Attack

1. The Four Knights' Game

We are forewarned that a lion is going to be eaten by a little bird.

Probably early April, 1548 

Lord Grey and Gideon Somerville are in London for a two-week stint, a trip planned in the last section. Gideon does not seem to have enough to keep him busy, so he spends a lot of time with Thomas Palmer, who is now working as Grey's "engineering adviser" in between trips to the dentist for more gold bridgework, apparently. Palmer, who has been around quite a while and was a card-playing friend of Henry VIII, is a good source of rumor and information, some of which Gideon passes on to Grey. But not all of it. Remember earlier Gideon did not let on to his superiors he actually knew Lymond's name. Gideon is a clever, circumspect man who keeps his own counsel.

Unfortunately for Lymond, Gideon encounters Margaret Douglas. She deftly leads Gideon's quick mind to put together the pieces of the puzzle of Will Scott, the Hume humiliation of Grey, the Spanish trickster Don Luis, the leader of Will's band of outlaws who is selling him out, the unnamed Scottish outlaws who captured Margaret, and one "blond, blue-eyed, rapacious ... polyglot" they both know.

Grey's assignment from the Lord Protector is to return to Cockburnspath and, on April 21, begin the fortification of Haddington as a prelude to another assault on Scotland.

Lymond now has the attention not only of Grey but also of the Protector, neither of whom is amused by his "huckstering with the might of the English crown."

***

The Nunnery

Mariotta has been recuperating at the convent near Midculter since late February. Janet Beaton shows once again that she is needle sharp: she doesn't believe for a second that Will and Mariotta's encounter with Sybilla after Will whisked Mariotta away from Lymond was an accident. Or that Will was able to go back to Lymond "without being suspected" so he could arrange a trap for Lymond. The last we saw of Will, he had slipped away from the Tower with Mariotta, and Lymond was furious with him, or seemed to be. It appears from Janet's cynical quizzing of Sybilla that the whole thing was a set-up to get Mariotta out of the Tower and back into the care of Sybilla. Whether Will is part of the deception or just an unwitting dupe is not clear.

Two things are clear from Sybilla's startled reaction to finding Will at the nunnery: she did not expect him to be there today, and she has been seeing him regularly ("he knows I come on Mondays"). Will's message to Andrew Hunter lights the fuse to a hilarious explosion: the messages setting up the trap for Lymond were not sent by Will. They were from Lymond. It is especially amusing that Mariotta is the one who immediately figures out the master puppeteer has once again pulled all the strings.

How much does Sybilla know? Quite a lot. Perhaps everything. First, she has been in communication with Will. Second, she is dismayed he is at the convent at the same time as Janet. Third, she tries to get Will to give her the message in private, but Will, "flustered" and "unaccustomed to the Dowager's little ways," reveals to Janet and Mariotta the existence of his message to Hunter. This destroys Sybilla's ability to make Will play her (and Lymond's) game.

It seems likely that Sybilla has been taking all of Will's messages and replacing them with messages from Lymond!

***

Things start to go wrong for Lymond. He and Johnnie Bullo (not one of Lymond's men, of course) arrive at Cockburnspath and meet with George Douglas, the bearer of bad news. Harvey is in London and not coming north. Lymond must send a message to bring Will Scott into the trap or face torture. Lymond complies and sends Johnnie with a message for Will.

A few days later Grey, Gideon Somerville, and Grey's men arrive and learn of the easy win with Lymond, who, along with George Douglas, is now at Heriot waiting to spring the trap set for Will Scott. Grey and Gideon arrive, Grey triumphant to at last have trapped "the Spaniard," and Gideon, supremely uncomfortable with the whole thing. Notice how Lymond admits he is Don Luis: by rubbing salt into Grey's still throbbing wound by referring to the "tawny velvet" clothes he liberated from Grey at Hume, accentuating Grey's humiliation.

Lymond learns that Grey finally discovered his ruse as the Spanish captain thanks to his old nemesis Margaret Douglas. Lymond makes sure Grey knows George Douglas is present (though trying hard not to be seen) and, while George and Grey confer, Gideon focuses all his considerable analytic skills on Lymond. Here is "a man waiting. Waiting for what?" Whatever it is, Lymond is no broken man; he still has something planned, something he anticipates. Gideon is so intrigued by Lymond he gets Grey's permission to remain on the scene and wait. Wait for what?

***

And so...Johnnie Bullo, the ultimate go-between, has another man deliver Lymond's message not to Will Scott but, as if it were a message from Will, to Buccleuch and, by extension, to Richard Crawford. The Buccleuch and Crawford men set out for Heriot in full anticipation of regaining Will Scott (who is not at Heriot) and capturing Lymond.

Chaos ensues. Every plan goes awry. Bowes' English are outnumbered and flee the mounted Scots. Gideon seizes the opportunity to grab Lymond and flee on horseback. Richard Crawford almost overtakes Gideon and Lymond until the men left behind by Grey (who is learning to listen to Gideon) attack and Richard must give up his pursuit. Gideon is home free until he is hit on the head and all goes black.

***

Gideon is now Lymond's prisoner, and Lymond is quite happy to tell Gideon the truth: that he was the one who sent for his brother and Buccleuch, although he had expected to be long gone with Mr. Harvey when they arrived. He had hoped the Scots would find and capture Grey and Bowes. But since everyone has been "energetically cheating," Lymond is not surprised by the turn of events.

Notice Lymond's reference to Nemesis when Gideon points out his how "abnormally lucky" Lymond was to escape unharmed. To say "Nemesis nodded" is to invoke the goddess of divine retribution and revenge, but it is more. Nemesis means "to give what is due," so in this case, it may mean that Lymond believes Nemesis is nodding to all his very ill fortune and giving him some rare good luck. Or he may mean that Nemesis nodded off and was asleep, so Lymond did not get his due.

On the way back to Crawfordmuir, Lymond and Gideon encounter Will Scott and Johnnie Bullo. This is the first time Gideon has set eyes on Will, and the drama that plays out is probably worth the price of admission for Gideon. Will is furious with Lymond, believing it was not he but his father and Richard Crawford that Lymond had sought to sell to the English. But Gideon, the enthralled spectator, honestly recounts to Will the fact that the Scots had set a "very efficient trap of their own."

One of my favorite lines occurs in this section. When Will barks at Lymond that he must face a reckoning for selling out his father and Richard Crawford to the English, Lymond responds:

"Make me?" invited Lymond and unfurled himself with terrifying suddenness.

It is Dunnett's use of the question mark that makes this sublime. There is a kind of laconic arrogance that echoes the challenges of childhood in Lymond's reply to Will. Here is a man so supremely confident in his superiority that he can stoop to the playful level of a child.

Unarmed and unhorsed, Will now hears the truth from an unimpeachable source--Gideon. Grey betrayed Lymond, but Will's father and Richard are unharmed and on their way home. Everything Will thinks he knows is pure nonsense. Now is the moment Lymond seizes to let Will know he knows about Will's "pattering off" to Dandy Hunter, which Lymond also knows has figured into the multiple mishaps of late.

The scene ends with Lymond watching wide-eyed as Johnnie Bullo rides off. The unusual expression on Lymond's face tells Gideon that Lymond realizes he should have kept his temper in check as he is usually able to do, but this time Will provoked him a little too effectively. It is never good to let potential rivals, enemies, or even employees know your weak spot, and this is what Lymond does in front of Will, Gideon, and Johnnie.

***

Early April, 1548
Easter falls on April 4

Gideon is being kept at Lymond's hideout, and Dunnett says at the start of this section they are at "Shortcleugh." A "cleugh" is a ravine, but the word is capitalized, indicating a formal place name. It seems odd to me that she never mentions Shortcleugh before or after. I believe Shortcleugh refers to one of the places where gold was found in Scotland:

Mr. Bulmer, in Queen Elizabeth's time, searched and found gold, etc., in these places in Scotland, viz., ... 4. Short-Cleugh water in Crawford moor. A Tour in Scotland, vol. 2, 1771, by Thomas Pennant

Lymond starts his inquisition of Gideon already knowing the outcome: Gideon will never agree to the trade of his life for Harvey's even if Grey agrees to it. Of course, Lymond has no intention of killing Harvey, so he claims, only questioning him. The fact is that Lymond has already thought through the examination of Somerville and concluded that Gideon will do everything in his power not to be exchanged for Harvey. We know this because Lymond has Gideon's sword, knife, key to his room, and horse waiting for his imminent departure.

It seems powerfully strange that Lymond, now that he holds the trump card, would simply let him go home, no strings attached. But that is exactly what he is doing. Why? Why on earth, after all the danger and threats and anger and pain and suffering to himself and others would Lymond just let Gideon go when he can try to force an exchange for Harvey? The only answer is that Lymond is a superb judge of men and their character. He says of Gideon, "honesty is your surest asset." Lymond is gambling that Gideon is an honest and honorable man. And Lymond is still smarting from the rebounding humiliation caused by his questioning of little Philippa Somerville: "I owe your family an act of sensibility."

Nemesis wakes up in this section. After "nodding" either in agreement or drowsiness earlier, the goddess of retributive justice now punishes Lymond for the cruelty he showed Philippa when her father uses it as a reason not to help Lymond.

Nemesis
Injure no-one, either by word or deed.
Nemesis watches for, and overtakes, the footsteps of men,
and holds a ruler and harsh bridle in her hand,
lest you do anything evil, or speak dishonest words:
She commands moreover that there be due measure in all things.
Translation of Alciato's Book of Emblems at
Memorial University of Newfoundland
Image by Andrea Alciato [Public domain]
via Wikimedia Commons

At first, Gideon says he will not help Lymond "for no better reason than that you want it." But Somerville's better angels start to work on him, as Lymond believes they would, and it slowly dawns on Gideon that Lymond really is letting him go free without any "undertakings" (promised efforts) on Gideon's side. Lymond's unexpected generosity and also sheer recklessness get to Gideon and he finds himself possessed by momentary madness. Finally, he does make an undertaking, the one Lymond is hoping for.

If there was ever an example of reverse psychology in action, Lymond's handling of Gideon is it. Lymond risks everything he has been working so feverishly to achieve on the gamble he has read Gideon Somerville correctly. He gambles that Gideon will not be able to resist Lymond's wildly generous act to free him without precondition knowing what great store Lymond sets on the meeting with Harvey. Gideon, too, is a superb judge of character, and he has judged Lymond to be worthy of at least some level of trust.

Gideon is amazed that Lymond, who takes this meeting with Harvey so seriously that he is disbanding his company of men because of the danger to them, would put his fate into Gideon's hands. Somerville is not the only one seized by madness.

At the end of this section Gideon wonders to himself if he, like the mystic Evagrius (Ponticus), would "receive the receipt for these pious outgoings in his coffin." I refer you to Laura Caine Ramsey's entry on Evagrius for elucidation of the legend. The meaning of Gideon's musing is that he sees himself as the pagan Evagrius who is converted by, in this case, Lymond. At his conversion Evagrius received a promissary note saying he would be repaid in the afterlife, and Gideon wonders if he, too, will reap a posthumous reward for his "pious outgoings."

***

April 21-End of May

The final section finds Lord Grey in a foul humor despite the advent and persistence of a lovely spring. The fortifications at Haddington are a terrible disappointment requiring the rest of April and all of May to remedy. Furthermore, the Scots and French have a considerable force of men at arms nearby, the French, as Dunnett says with nicely understated humor, "delicately scenting the infested terrain."

But Grey is no slouch. By the last week of May his men have not only made Haddington defensible, Grey has five thousand men and horse, supplies for them all, and George Douglas, having used up all his English goodwill, in his sights.

On his own and quietly, Lord Grey takes one final measure: he sends to London for Samuel Harvey. After so many missteps, misdirections, and miscommunications, Grey is learning, like Gideon, to keep his own counsel.

2. The Pinning Move

Late May

Sybilla has moved Mariotta to Midculter, fearing the poor security at the convent, which makes sense given the hostilities that have occurred in the area and the fact Mariotta was already taken hostage by the English once. Mariotta's only sign of interest is in Johnnie Bullo's alchemical experiment.

Sybilla continues to mourn Christian's absence, which is further evidence of their close relationship and shared sympathies.

Johnnie Bullo's Furnace

At this point, I think it is clear why Sybilla has been financing and encouraging Johnnie's laboratory at Midculter. She is using Johnnie Bullo to exchange messages with Lymond, and the alchemy lab provides the perfect cover for his visits to Midculter. Indeed, Sybilla seems to enjoy his nonsense, too, which is a side benefit. It also helps keep Janet's nose out of Sybilla's business if she is preoccupied with trying to trip up the "mystagogue" Bullo. And the alchemy distracts Mariotta from her own misery.

The arrival of the messenger from Ballaggan, Dandy Hunter's home, brings very bad news indeed for Sybilla. Will is arranging to have Lymond, when he leaves to cross the border, trapped and captured by the English at the same convent where Sybilla's daughter and Lymond's sister died, a very ugly bit of intentional irony on Will's part. Sybilla, interestingly, even seems to blame Lymond for Will's betrayal when she says "he's driven that ridiculous boy half out of his mind, and this is the result."

Notice that Sybilla keeps her wits about her almost as well as Lymond does. She has the presence of mind to tell the messenger to let Hunter know to take Lymond to Threave, the home of Jack Maxwell and his bride Agnes Herries.

Once again Bullo slips out unnoticed to warn Lymond, but this time he is too late.

Questions

1. Who are the four knights in the title of part 1?
2. Why does Grey send for Samuel Harvey?
3. Why would Sybilla tell Hunter to take Lymond to Threave?
4. Do you believe Sybilla blames Lymond for Will's betrayal?
5. Who is the lion eaten by the little bird?

Favorite Line

There she found herself in the embarrassing position of the social suicide who wakes up after the laudanum: the skies had fallen and done nothing but add to the general obscurity. 

Words that Describe Lymond in Concerted Attack

• deceptive
• scheming
• irritated
• irritating
• amused
• amusing
• taunting
• sarcastic
• witty
• wily
• arrogant
• exasperated
• angry
• manipulative
• reckless
• audacious
• honest