Part Two. The Play for Gideon Somerville. Chapter I. Smothered Mate

1. Removal of a Blocking Knight

Branxholm

Winter is coming and with it, more trouble.

Richard Crawford is at Branxholm, the Buccleuch home, trying without much success to enlist if not Wat Scott then his men and hounds in pursuit of Lymond's gang. Branxholm is about as different from Midculter as possible: a cacophonous mix of screaming babies, boisterous children of all ages, argumentative adults, and assorted animals all contained within utilitarian if not pleasing walls. Buccleuch has every reason to be worried about his home and family given the cross-border raids by the English (Seymour and Wharton) that have left other estates in ruin.

Buccleuch is still pretending to be ill to avoid having to accede to Grey of Wilton (he of the mouth injury and victim of Lymond's Spanish supply train commander) and his demands for a show of loyalty. Add to these Wat's concerns over Will's fate, which Richard plays to by offering the logical argument that it would be better for a family friend and a Scotsman to catch Will than for him to fall into English hands.

Notice that Wat is perfectly happy to throw himself into a full-throated argument with Janet as a way of avoiding further discussion with Richard, although Dunnett certainly implies that the Buccleuch household is normally just this "corybantic" (wild) and noisy and unrestrained. How very different from the Crawfords, who are paradigms of self-mastery and reserve. Except, of course, for Francis, who can be quite wild on cue.

Into this madhouse comes Sybilla, purportedly looking for relief from Agnes Herries. Really? If Sybilla wants a quiet retreat from Agnes's overpowering voice, she certainly has come to the wrong house. So what is her true motive? She is once again intervening to block Richard from using Wat or his resources to find Lymond. Sybilla also lets slip the fortune Lymond created for Johnnie Bullo to tell Agnes: she will fall for a thin man with a romantic smile named Jack. This could be important because Lymond undoubtedly had something in mind when he came up with this prophecy.

Sybilla also reintroduces the plan for the discussion of the Philosopher's Stone, which leads her on a desultory journey to other topics, by which time Richard's request for Buccleuch's help is long forgotten. Once again, Sybilla has subtly but effectively disrupted her elder son's plans vis a vis her younger son. Everyone is glad when Richard leaves because Wat Scott does not want to get involved in helping him find Lymond's gang.

As Richard is leaving, Janet lets him know she agrees with him that the Scots need to catch Lymond and Will before the English do and even suggests he go behind Buccleuch's back to do so. But Richard hates conspiracies and deceptions of all kinds and will not consider it. He instead implores Janet to talk Wat round to his (and her) point of view.

Notice Richard's interesting comment about Lymond:

"I tell you, Lymond has taken three months to kill all the years of my childhood."

On the surface, this probably means something like, "his behavior has aged me ten years in three months," but I wonder if he isn't saying that Francis has destroyed all the love and affection and loyalty of their childhood together in the three months he has been back in Scotland and acting the brigand. Richard is, after all, offering to hunt Lymond down and possibly kill him on sight.

One last question: who is the blocking knight who is removed in this section? The obvious answer might be Buccleuch, but on reflection that does not make sense. After all, he has already blocked Richard's plans to hunt down Lymond and company, so he was already removed. I believe the blocking knight is Richard himself. Remember in Opening Gambit that it is Richard who steadfastly refuses to engage in finding Lymond, despite Tom Erskine and Wat Scott's entreaties. Richard was, at that time, Lymond's "blocking knight," that is, the "piece" protecting the "king." Now Richard confesses to Janet that he no longer has any family feeling or other emotional ties that will stop him from finding his brother and, if necessary, killing him. Lymond, the "king," is exposed. But through the inaction of Buccleuch and the interference of Sybilla, Richard is effectively removed from the board, at least for the moment.

2. Irregular Partie Between Two Masters

A Spanish Deck of Cards (1495-1518)

The scene shifts to "the Peel"  (their tower hideout) where Lymond's men are playing cards. We learn a great deal of Lymond's back story and have many actions explained in this section. From the initial exchange we learn that Jonathan Crouch has been with the men since Lymond liberated him from Ballaggan, that Crouch is feeling the absence of an audience for his non-stop monologue, and that Crouch is a first-rate card player who has taught Will Scott a thing or two about winning at cards. Crouch may be an obnoxious little man with a "smooth pansy face" "like cheese rennet," but he is one sharp character.

Also, over the past two months, Will Scott has developed "a certain style," which, I think, refers to more than just his improved skill at cards. He has taken the lesson of his humiliation at Hume Castle to heart and has learned from it--and from the Master.

When Johnnie Bullo slips in unannounced and silently, we find out from him some extremely valuable bits of information about Lymond. At the battle of Solway Moss in November 1542 (five years earlier), Lymond was captured by the English, taken to London as prisoner, supposedly committed the treasonous act for which he now wanted, and rewarded for this betrayal with a fine English manor.

Lymond might have wanted Johnnie to tell Will this story as part of the younger man's education, but it may be that Johnnie, as a free agent, does it on his own initiative to show no man is his master.

Crouch now learns why Lymond freed him from Ballaggan but has not yet sent him home: Lymond thought Crouch might be the man who betrayed him to the Scottish government five years ago by making his treason known to the authorities. Lymond is now convinced Crouch is not the man. But why? I do not think we know what exactly convinced Lymond that "the titmouse" is not the man he is seeking. Lymond also makes clear to Crouch et al. that Andrew Hunter's interest in Crouch was to entice Lymond, in part to earn the bounty on Lymond's head and in part for reasons yet to be disclosed. I suspect that Lymond suspects Hunter of very specific motives which he is as of yet loathe to articulate.

***

The ride to the Ostrich Inn offers another opportunity for exposition. Will Scott has been developing his "certain style" by watching Lymond and learning from him. He, as all the men, is in awe of the Master, who seems super human. Nothing in Will's experience has prepared him for Lymond. Once again, we hear of Lymond's many masks: he never lets anyone see him ill or weak. Even such normal human emotions and experiences as disappointment, worry, genuine (not feigned) anger, or even sleep are weaknesses to Lymond. The "omnipotent" persona he has created must be taking a huge toll on Lymond emotionally and physically.

And, once again, Johnnie Bullo is more than a little eager to take this opportunity to tell tales about Lymond behind his back. Johnnie does not work for the Master, so he is under no obligation to keep his mouth shut. Johnnie also recognizes Will's utter fascination with Lymond, so he makes an eager audience for the gypsy king's stories.

***

The Ostrich Inn

Just as with Will Scott, through whose eyes we see the events in the Ostrich unfold, it is difficult for the reader not to succumb to the heady atmosphere of the Ostrich--the noise, the alcohol, the music, the heat, the smells, and all the people. We know at least one reason the gypsies were going to the Ostrich: to ply their trade. What else do we know?

• Lymond quickly disappears. Where? Why? Will does not know.
• Molly has known the Master for some time and he has rewarded her loyalty quite nicely. Once again, Lymond's wealth is emphasized.
• Lymond reappears, clean and dressed in new clothes. He must keep a room at the inn.
• Will Scott flaunts his wealth as well by wearing a jewel in his helmet, which allows Molly to size him up quickly as another potential benefactor.

Lymond takes the occasion of Molly's showing off her gifts to Will for another lesson: in effect he tells him, "Will, if you go around with a flashy jewel in your helmet, do not be surprised when someone tries to take advantage of you."

When Lymond takes the key from Molly and leads Will upstairs, what does Will think is going to happen? 

Where there is no custom of reticence in childhood, there is no vice in which a well-brought-up young man need be ignorant...

Does he think Molly has arranged women for Lymond and him? Or does he, perhaps, think Lymond himself is proposing a homosexual encounter? Remember, Lymond has been watching Will watch him; Will cannot take his eyes off Lymond, so it would not be out of the question that Will might think Lymond has this in mind.

Whatever Will is expecting, it is John Maxwell. But when Will realizes they have come to meet Maxwell, he has enough presence of mind to salvage proper behavior "out of the wreckage of his emotions." Whether Will is relieved or disappointed (or a bit of both), this assignation is all business.

A quick reminder about Maxwell. In Part I, Chapter V, Lymond set up the attack on Maxwell that allowed him to rescue Maxwell, thus putting him in Lymond's debt. Also recall that Maxwell, as a border laird, is in a precarious position vis-a-vis the English.

Maxwell is well connected to the Douglas family: his uncle is James Douglas of Drumlanrig, who is George Douglas's brother-in-law; Maxwell's brother-in-law is Archie Douglas, the Earl of Angus (married to Maxwell's sister Margaret). All three of these Douglas men were at Drumlanrig along with Andrew Hunter when Richard and Agnes recuperated there following their dousing in the Nith (Part I, Ch. IV).

What does Lymond's interview with Maxwell tell us?

• Lymond's intelligence network is, as George Douglas imagined, enviably broad and meticulously accurate.
• Maxwell was impressed enough by Lymond at their last meeting (when Lymond "saved" Maxwell) that he looked into the men Lymond is seeking and discovered their names, which Lymond already knows via Crouch.
• Also at that time Lymond had proposed the idea of a propitious marriage for Maxwell but one that John does not think likely given his current standing with the Queen Dowager (i.e., under the thumb of the English).
• Lennox, as George Douglas proposed in Part I, Ch. IV, is going to bring an English force north into Scotland in the dead of winter (it appears George's wild idea has hatched into a live goose).
• The Lennox raid can be arranged to be bungled, with Lennox blaming his own men and Maxwell getting the credit with the Queen Dowager.

After a conversation detailing Lymond's plan, Maxwell leaves at midnight, but not before begging Lymond not let his "mad, antic mind" come up with any more bright ideas. Once again, we get the sense that Lymond is an exhausting person to be around, a buzzing hive of mental and physical activity. Lymond for his part believes Maxwell is equal to whatever lunatic schemes he might devise and, to Will's surprise, Maxwell finds that comment amusing. Q.E.D. The comment about mulberry trees into silk shirts (silkworms live in mulberry trees) indicates Lymond expected this encounter to be yet another moment of edification for Will. Likely it was not because Will, like the company in the inn, is barely conscious. Lymond will have none of this somnolence: he is ready for a uproarious night of wine, music, and general debauchery. 

We are now treated to one of the greatest scenes of frenetic hilarity in literature. I recommend rereading the way Dunnett introduces the bagpiper. It takes a minute to realize what she is describing, but once you do, could you imagine a better way of painting that image in words? Stunning. In fact, the way she casts her spell in unwinding the chaos of that night is so vivid you can almost feel the heat and hear the roaring din and smell the bodies.

Why does Lymond stir up the sleeping crowd into a night of frenzied activity? On a practical level, it ensures that anyone who was at the Ostrich this night will have memories only of the riotous events after midnight, thus defeating any efforts to ferret out Lymond's broader designs. I also think Lymond craves this madcap activity to keep him from going mad. He needs the release and he knows his men need it, too. But, unlike most of his men, he is awake, alert, and dressed for the day before dawn.

One other aside: I suspect there is a little private joke in this scene. Lymond says, "Sleep! Whoever slept at the Ostrich between midnight and five in the morning?" I recall hearing or reading that Dunnett said she wrote her novels between midnight and five in the morning. I have often thought she must have never slept! I at least strongly suspect she was a terrible insomniac, her mind racing with ideas and story lines and images at all hours. So let us be thankful for the grace of the wee hours in which the magic came to our Darling Dorothy.

And then comes the last line of the the section spoken by Francis Crawford, who can hear the music of the spheres, unheeded by other ears:

"Look up," said the Master, "and see them. The teaching stars, beyond worship and commonplace tongues. The infinite eyes of innocence."

Wow. Is that not exquisite? Possibly for the first time we get a glimpse of a more profound Lymond with secret depths of insight and character.

"The teaching stars." Watch. Wait. See.

3. Cross Moves by a King's Knight

This is a short but significant scene because we meet Gideon Somerville for the first time. He makes a very good impression: he served his king but as soon as the king died, he had the good sense to take his wife, child, and money and head out of court for good and all. He is good-humored, compassionate, and honest (he admits he is not only worried about Kate's skin but his own). He is also dutiful if reluctant, although he really has no choice but to do what Lord Grey wishes.

The most important thing we learn in this scene is that the man Lymond seeks is not Gideon but Samuel Harvey, although Lymond does not yet know this. How does Grey know about Harvey? Because the ever-reliably well-connected George Douglas told him. Or course, we do not know how this bit of news came to George, but he has an excellent spy network. It also means George knows why Lymond wants Harvey; otherwise, how would he have been able to connect the suspects' names to a specific person? One of them has damning information about Lymond.

Grey wants to use Somerville to trap Will Scott, who humiliated him at Hume, and that infernal Spaniard who used him even more ill. And George Douglas gets Lymond in the bargain. It is extremely amusing that Grey still does not realize there was no Spanish captain!

Poor Gideon is stuck in the middle of this muddle, realizing again that you can take your life out of the court but you can't take the court out of your life.

Questions

1. Who is the "blocking knight" that is removed in section 1? Is it Richard?
2. Why does Johnnie Bullo tell Will the story about Lymond's purported treason when Turkey Mat makes it clear Lymond hates having people talk about him behind his back? Did Lymond put him up to this for some reason or is Johnnie telling tales out of school?
3. By telling stories about Lymond's fallibility Johnnie Bullo diminishes Lymond in Will's eyes. Why would he do this?
4. Why is Lymond convinced Crouch is not the man who he is seeking?
5. Who do you think Lymond suggested as a wife for John Maxwell?
6. How did George Douglas figure out that Samuel Harvey is the man Lymond is seeking?

Favorite Line

"The teaching stars, beyond worship and commonplace tongues. The infinite eyes of innocence."

Words That Describe Lymond in Smothered Mate

• wild
• frenetic
• sarcastic
• cynical
• crafty
• manipulative
• inventive
• conniving
• ruthless
• controlling
• extremely athletic
• poetic
• profound

Part One. The Play for Jonathan Crouch. Chapter VII. A Variety of Mating Replies. 2. Check and Cross Check

Item 7. is the shooting glove, formed to protect
the three fingers used in drawing the string. 

Here we have Dunnett's three arrows again: the one that freed the parrot, the one that hit the parrot, the one that hit Richard. This last is remarked on: 

For the arrow which struck Richard came from a great distance and had to fly over many heads to an almost invisible mark. Unlike the first two it was not faultless.

I added the emphasis. Remember: Dunnett never says anything that is extraneous or pointless.

What do we learn about the archery equipment? 

• The bow is English (Richard assumes Lymond got it as part of his Annan booty).
• The arrows are all from the same source (they are all made from the same wood and feathers, I assume).
• They are barbed (which is, judging by Richard's comment, highly inappropriate in a perch contest).
• The glove is high-quality white buckskin, perfumed and jeweled and expensive.
• The glove is new because it shows no signs of repeated usage.

In short, everything seems to fit into a neat package of damning evidence against Lymond. Richard's ire against his brother is understandably growing stronger. And Mariotta's comment will only help fan the flames of hatred ("He [Lymond] seems able to do almost anything he wants.") What husband could bear such a comment about any man, especially a handsome, rougish younger brother?

Notice that Agnes jumps on this comment by diverting the attention away from Mariotta to herself as she looks (longingly) at Richard and heaves a sigh. She is not impressed by Lymond. She is focused on the true hero: Richard.

Sybilla, exercising her "own brand of humane genius" diverts everyone from the papingo shoot disaster with the very conveniently arranged gypsy entertainment. The scene focuses not on the players but on the audience. We know:

• Mariotta is relaxing and getting her color back.
• Tom Erskine is providing commentary for Christian.
• Christian is trying to restrain Agnes, with limited success.
• Andrew Hunter is helping Christian keep Agnes's enthusiasm in check.
• Richard is watching the gypsies while half asleep.
• Sybilla is watching Richard while she is having a "long and intermittent" discussion with Johnnie Bullo.
• Wat Scott is the only member of the audience not mentioned.

And Sybilla uses that as an excuse to remove Wat from the scene to ask him about the bloodhounds. Once again Sybilla proves herself preternaturally insightful. She knew immediately what Richard was planning:

"I always could interpret these silences, you know, more easily than half an hour of his brother's chatter."

Oh, my! Isn't that interesting? Lymond's mother claims she has trouble seeing through his elaborate deceptions. He uses language as a disguise just as surely as he uses wigs and clothing and accents. We do get a sense here that Lymond loves to talk and loves to hear himself talk. 

Now we have the treat of watching Sybilla in action--something very similar to watching Francis work his will on others. The exchange between Sybilla and Wat Scott might be a tad confusing, so here's what is going on.

Lord Grey, who was humiliated by Lymond at Hume when he came to rescue Will Scott, has "invited" Wat to Norham to assure the English of his continued assistance along the border. Wat has so far pleaded illness to avoid the summons, but the word is bound to get back to Grey very soon that Wat is quite well enough to attend the papingo shoot, among other activities. Wat realizes that he has two equally terrible choices regarding his son. 

On the one hand, he can disown Will and hope Lord Grey believes him. Wat doubts this will work because Grey knows it was Will at Hume and because the English troops from the supply train ended up "bound and frozen" and half naked ("cutty sarks") on his land. Also, if Wat disowns Will and he is caught, he'll suffer the same punishment as Lymond, that is, as a traitor. 

On the other hand, if Will comes home, as Wat has people praying he will, the English will surely burn his property to the ground in the next cross-border raid. (Wat's irreverence is as touching as it is amusing. He's ordered the clergy to pray for Will's return, but he calls them "baw-heids" or, basically, idiots.)

Add to this Richard Crawford's energetic request that Wat use his bloodhounds to track Lymond and you have a pretty good idea of the stress Wat is under. Sybilla gives Wat the way out of this particular quandary (using the bloodhounds) by promising that she will catch Will before anyone else, English or Scottish, gets hold of him, but we do not know how. Wat is quick to assent to her request.

Notice how quickly and smoothly Sybilla shifts the conversation to Johnnie Bullo and the Philosopher's Stone as the others enter the room. Johnnie clearly wants the ladies to leave Bogle House and come to his tent for some reason, and Sybilla does not hesitate to agree to the jaunt to the Fair even though it is now night and the fair has undoubtedly deteriorated into an event highly inappropriate for ladies and girls, even those with an armed escort.

It is always a matter of speculation among Dunnett readers about whom Sybilla is speaking when, alone with the sleeping Richard, she says, "Oh, my darling...I do hope I've done the best thing!" It could be Richard; it could be Lymond; it could conceivably be someone else. We cannot tell for sure. Nor can we be sure what she has done that worries and possibly even frightens her. We do know she has had a long conversation with Johnnie Bullo earlier this night, right before she asks Wat not to use his hounds to find Lymond, and she plans to meet with Johnnie again at Midculter.

First Johnnie Bullo as Lymond's go-between with Christian. Is he now Lymond's go-between with his mother? 

***

We "see" the day's events and the fair at night through Christian, and the images are disquieting and repulsive. The "uncouth" and "coarse" and "mindless, ganting" noises of the day have unfolded into an even worse "Saturnalia" of the night, filled with "sottish, leering voices" and the smells, the horrible smells, of stale beer and sweaty bodies and rancid food and the sharp odor of blood. It is not just nighttime, it is a nightmare for Christian, whose sensitive nature is assailed not only by the noises and odors but also by the "blundering bodies" and "grasping hands" all around her. And the stresses and anxieties of the day prey upon her mind all the while. We can feel the near panic she is trying hard to conceal.

Gypsies at a Fair

When Christian finally is guided by Johnnie Bullo inside his tent, the tension is hardly eased by the cold, enveloping silence. 

Then comes the "mothlike" voice, which immediately describes the surroundings to Christian so as to give her the comfort of bearings. Notice Lymond instantly detects Christian's fear (he is very sensitive to the emotions of others). Christian is eager to tell Lymond how the varieties of violence disgust her, with the day's events providing further examples of how human beings enjoy cruelty and inflicting pain. 

---

Aside: Christian mentions a kind of violence that "amuses itself by stuffing women and children into a cave and smoking them to death." I found almost that same language here:

Speaking of the clan system, more particularly during the middle ages, the Duke [of Argyll] says, "It was a rude and barbarous history--a history of almost utter barbarism--and whole tribes smothered, men, women, and children smoked to death in caves..." [my emphasis] from Bishop Carswell and His Times, The Celtic Magazine, April 1882, accessed via Electric Scotland.

John Carswell was born around 1522 and is closely associated with Mary Queen of Scots. He also translated a Gaelic edition of John Knox's liturgy. The language here and in The Game of Kings seems too close to have been coincidental. There are other sources that refer to the same kind of barbaric act (Wild Scottish Clans, by Arthur Griffiths, published 1910). It seems to me that Christian is referring not to English barbarity but to how the Scots themselves have been guilty of perpetrating horrors on each other. After all, who are the people at the fair but her fellow countrymen and women?

---

Why does Christian want to go to the fair? Remember Johnnie Bullo tried to get a message to her earlier that day but was unsuccessful. She wants to find out what that message is. Also, Christian wants to pass along information of her own, that is, about Jonathan Crouch. Lymond has his own motive for meeting Christian in the tent. Even though Lymond asks Christian how Richard is faring, this is more courtesy than necessity. Johnnie Bullo, after all, has been in Culter's company all evening and is a reliable reporter. Lymond's main motive is to let Christian know that he did not try to kill Richard: "I haven't tried to kill anybody today, I give you my word." However, he does not actually deny shooting Richard, only not trying to kill his brother. He could just as easily said, "I did not shoot anyone today."

All this almost certainly means that Christian knows who Lymond is by now, and perhaps knew all along. Why do she and Lymond continue the charade of his anonymity? I think it is mainly because he is a wanted man, a man accused of treason, and her openly acknowledging that she knows his identity is very dangerous. To use the current vernacular, the play-acting gives Christian some degree of "plausible deniability," however slight. Also, for her to admit she knows Lymond's identity would break the spell of their enchanted friendship by introducing cold, stark reality. Neither of them wants that.

---

Aside: Regarding Lymond's comments on archery--clearly he is a man with a finely honed aesthetic sense. He loves the sport because, done well, it is a beautiful thing to behold and to perform. It is, for him, artistry in motion. Keep in mind Lymond's various skills and talents because they will be important throughout the series. How and when did he become so adept at so many different activities that require years of training and practice?

---

The long, difficult discussion between Lymond and Christian on the depravity of man reveals a great deal about Francis Crawford. He points out to Christian that it only takes "a good crack of thunder" to bring people to their knees to pray for deliverance. And as for mankind being civilized, he hardly sees much evidence of that. As for the civilizing effect of religion, there seems to be none, only various sects and religions vying with each other to be the most barbarous. Not to be diverted from the attempt on Richard's life, Christian interrupts Lymond's soliloquy to inquire on assassination or murder for private motives. 

Lymond claims he is ignorant of what motivated the attack on his brother--perhaps the usual suspects: greed, hate, envy, religious conflict, a lover's revenge. Lymond rejects only the last of these because Richard is "a remarkably dull and blameless creature." I wonder if he really views his brother this way.

Christian will not let Lymond off easy and continues sparring with him, saying she values candor above self-control. Lymond's comments on truth are a wonderful thing to read. He points out that truth-telling is often used as a weapon to inflict pain and increase suffering, even driving people to "the river and the dagger and the pillow in a quiet corner" (to suicide, to murder, and to despair). Furthermore, if Christian got the candor she craves regarding her mystery man's identity, it might cause irreparable harm to them both, but most especially to her: there would be "no possible going back once [the truth about his identity is] out."

Keep in mind Lymond's hypothetical example of whether or not he murdered his own sister.

Christian remains one of the few people who can genuinely surprise Lymond and verbally spar with him. When she points out that he and not she would deservedly suffer for his misdeeds should they be discovered, he laughs at her candor, wondering if she would even enjoy his punishment (pretend you wouldn't like to see me struggling at the end of the noose, i.e., "dance a vuelta on the widdy"). 

Lymond continues to put a great deal of faith both in his ability to paint a certain image of himself with his voice as well as Christian's ability to discern his true nature from his voice and words. So far, his faith has not been misplaced. And, again, Christian comes through for him with the news about Johnathon Crouch. Remember, Christian learned all this from Sybilla after her visit to Patey Liddell's shop where she overheard George Douglas and Andrew Hunter. It seems clear from what she says that Christian does not know Lymond is the man who took Crouch from Hunter's house. 

Lymond is momentarily taken aback when Christian asks for her fortune to be told before she leaves, but Francis agrees in part to give her something to satisfy the suspicions of Tom and in part, I believe, because he does not want her to go just yet. He enjoys the company of someone with whom he can freely be himself precisely because she (supposedly) does not know who he is. 

I believe the mock fortune Lymond reads in Christian's palm shows his profound disdain for all forms of fortune telling and mysticism. He makes the absurd claim that Christian appears to "have died at the age of seven" and then goes on to utter the typical bromides that Johnnie Bullo spouts: you'll get the most out of life, meet the man of your dreams, get your heart's desire, etc. But then just as unexpectedly, Lymond speaks from his heart: "what are we, after all? Charlatans, faiseurs d'horoscope..." That, I think, is what Lymond truly believes. He has no time for tellers of fortunes, readers of palms, or casters of horoscopes.

As the time for parting draws near, it seems neither Lymond nor Christian wants to go. There is a deep attraction and empathy between them. Lymond first offers the "apologue" (moral fable) of the sands of time being reversed so that they can meet again, and then tries a quotation from a traditional chanson de mal-mariée, which expresses the grievances of an unhappy wife. Dunnett's own translation of the poem sheds an interesting light on it:

Jealous, grudging and tart
Death can haunt him
Sweet and vivid and fond--
Then I want him. (from The Dorothy Dunnett Companion, Vol 1, p 135)

There are many possible ways to interpret why Lymond chooses this snippet, but I believe he sees himself as both "jealous, grudging and tart" (and worthy of death) and "sweet and vivid and fond" (and desirable). This may sound odd, but I think it makes sense when you consider that we have seen these two radically opposed "Lymonds": one very unpleasant, even cruel, and another very charming and lovable. Lymond is not at all happy having to play the divers parts required by the terrible circumstances of his life and not being seen for who and what he is.

Or it could be as simple as his thinking of Mariotta, the '"unhappy wife," whose fortune he has just heard Johnnie Bullo tell, undoubtedly one with a very happy ending involving a "sweet and vivid and fond" lover.

Before Christian leaves, Francis tells her he will write to her (no, he hasn't suddenly forgotten she has to have someone else read letters to her): he simply tells her to "wait and see." Lymond will find a way. The last quotation Christian hears Francis uttering brings their conversation full circle. It also confirms his identity; why else speak of the poor papingo (papinjay)? 

Wouldn't you love to have heard Johnnie Bullo's "chastely phrased double-entendres" in the fortunes he told Mariotta and Agnes? And his description of Agnes is incomparable: "a face like a pound of candles on a hot day." Lucky for her she is rich. 

At the end of the chapter Lymond tells Johnnie he has had a very annoying day, probably because of what happened--or didn't happen--at the papingo shoot. Events did not turn out to his liking. Lymond's leave-taking of Johnnie is classic Lymond: at once careful and brisk. Notice he leaves a "small memento" for Johnnie, certainly one to the gypsy king's profit. The other payment Lymond offers Johnnie may be more valuable: the raw pleasure of watching a master at work.

Questions

1. Sybilla invited the gypsies to Bogle House before Richard was injured at the papingo shoot. Did her motives for doing so change once the incident occurred?
2. Does Sybilla know that Bullo has a message for Christian? Is that why Sybilla wants to go to the fair that night? Are she and Christian in cahoots?
3. Can you think of other examples of Sybilla's "own brand of humane genius"?
4. Why does Christian blush when Sybilla mentions "love potions" when speaking of the Philosopher's Stone?
5. Why did Lymond leave his shooting glove behind, knowing it could be used to identify and track him? Was it accidental?

Favorite Line

"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."

Words that Describe Lymond in A Variety of Mating Replies, 2. Check and Cross Check

• sober (not drunk)
• voluable
• witty
• clever
• mocking
• sensitive
• cynical
• thoughtful
• annoyed
• conflicted
• worried