Corbett nodded his acceptance. 'There is one further favour, your Lordship,' Corbett said slowly. 'But it needs to be done, even though it may give offence to the French.' 'Go on,' said Wishart wearily. 'I have been to Kinghorn Manor,' Corbett continued. 'I have attempted to see Queen Yolande to ask her why she did not send out a search-party for the King when he failed to arrive at Kinghorn Manor. I find it strange that a wife, a queen, a princess with responsibilities, who had been informed in no uncertain fashion that her husband was to join her, fails to do anything when he does not arrive. Any woman with commonsense would immediately become alarmed and send out some of her household to find the King. After all, he could have been thrown from his horse and been lying injured on the moors in the middle of a fierce storm. I must ask Queen Yolande why she acted as she did.' Corbett watched the old Bishop carefully. On the one hand he saw his own suspicions mirrored in the Bishop's eyes, on the other Wishart realised that such an interview might alienate the French and cause more trouble than it was worth. Corbett decided to press the point. 'For all we know, your Lordship, it is possible that Queen Yolande was involved in her husband's death. For her sake, for France's sake, for Scotland's sake, such suspicions must be cleared!' Wishart nodded slowly. 'Queen Yolande,' he replied, 'is to leave on tomorrow's tide just after dawn. A French galley will pick her up off the coast of the Forth and take her out to the sea where other ships are waiting to escort her back to France. I understand that the French envoy, de Craon, will be seeing her off.' The Bishop heaved a sigh. 'If the French ship leaves the Forth,' he continued, 'there is little chance that they will stop to answer your questions, Master Clerk. So you must stop her before her ship leaves the Forth.' The Bishop suddenly stirred himself. 'Do we have a ship, Sir James?' the Bishop asked. 'Of course,' Selkirk replied. 'I mean,' the Bishop retorted brusquely, 'is there a ship in the port of Leith we can use?' Selkirk rubbed his mouth with his hand. 'There is the "St. Andrew",' he said, 'a cog we often use to protect our ships from English pirates.' He looked sideways at Corbett. 'It has a full complement, a crew, an armoury and is good for putting to sea at a moment's notice.' 'Ah well,' Wishart smiled. 'Sir James, take our English visitor to the port of Leith and order the captain to follow his directions
across the Forth. He is to stop the ship, speak to Queen Yolande and not allow her to leave the Firth of Forth until Corbett has satisfactory answers to questions which intrigue even me. I will give you the necessary warrants and letters.'
SIXTEEN
Within an hour Corbett and Selkirk, accompanied by a dozen mounted men-at-arms, were pounding along the muddy track which led from Edinburgh to the port of Leith. Their progress was fast, the ground had hardened after the rains while Sir James had unfurled the royal standard of Scotland to make it obvious to any others using the road to stand aside quickly and let them pass. They galloped into Leith, up its narrow winding streets, across the cobbled market-place where Corbett had met Bruce's retainers, and then down to the quayside. There was a mass of shipping in the port, small skiffs, boats, the huge heavy-bottomed sterns of Hanseatic merchantmen. Small cranes were dragging out or depositing bales, barrels, chests and huge leather bags. There was a confusion of sounds, strange oaths, cries and orders, while ships arrived or prepared to depart. Sir James paid no heed, leading his small party along the quayside, ordering people aside and ignoring the oaths and catcalls which followed them.
Eventually they found the "Saint Andrew", a large warlike craft with a bluff tub-like hull. The body of the ship rose high above the quay, its stern crowned by small castles or crenellated fighting-platforms to protect archers and soldiers during battle. The huge single mast had its large sail furled under the platform used by the look-out. Sir James hailed the ship, telling the crew they were coming aboard and a large gangplank was lowered. Sir James ordered one of his retinue to stay and stable the horses while he and Corbett, accompanied by the remainder of his party, made their way carefully up the gangplank and into the busy ship. The crew moved about jostling each other; Corbett gathered that the ship had recently returned to port and the crew were busily cleaning the decks. He saw a vast patch of blood and guessed that the ship must have been in one of the many petty skirmishes which took place at sea, for ships of various nations, Norway, Denmark, England, Scotland and France used these waters for fishing, trade and piracy.
A young, red-haired man, dressed simply in a leather jerkin, leggings and boots, came up to Corbett and spoke in an accent the English clerk could not even hope to follow. Selkirk, however, made himself clearly understood. The man, curious, looked narrowly at Corbett and was about to refuse until Selkirk showed him Wishart's sealed warrant. The captain, for Corbett guessed it must be he, let out a litany of rich oaths in a variety of languages leaving Corbett in no doubt about his feelings concerning the mission. Nevertheless, the fellow began to bark orders. The decks were cleared; sailors began to run like monkeys up the rigging unfurling the great sail, while two more were sent up to the stern-castle to manage the huge tiller. After a while the captain, much calmer, took Selkirk and Corbett down to his cabin under the fo'castle, a small, dingy room smelling of tar and salt, and containing a simple cot bed, trunk, table and a number of stools. Corbett, unused to the gentle rocking of the ship and the low beams, banged his head as he straightened up. The pain was intense and though the captain laughed at his discomfort, he offered Corbett a cup of surprisingly good wine to ease the pain and, as Selkirk put it, strengthen his stomach for the coming voyage.