But this reminded him of his original grievance and he resumed his pacing up and down the bedchamber floor, fulminating for the next ten minutes against those English lords who had hinted that he might be more of a liability than an asset in treating with the Scots.
‘Earl Rivers had the gall to suggest that when James is either dead or deposed, my eldest nephew, Rothesay, might be the better alternative to be placed on the throne. A boy of nine! I ask you! No kingdom prospers when the ruler is a child, and so my lord of Gloucester was quick to point out to him.’ He glanced at me and I raised my eyebrows, although saying nothing. The stormy look left Albany’s face and he grinned reluctantly. ‘Yes, all right. He did back me in that. But I still don’t altogether trust him. And now, go and find James Petrie for me. I need to change. Cousin Richard has arranged a hunting expedition in Sherwood Forest for the rest of this afternoon, to sharpen our appetites for the feast this evening.’
‘I’m not hunting with you,’ I said, appalled.
‘Dear, sweet Virgin, of course you’re not!’ he exclaimed, and burst out laughing. ‘Your horsemanship’s abysmal. Donald and Murdo will accompany me. If the traitor is either of them, I shall be safe with so many other people around.’
I found this hard to reconcile with what little I knew of hunting, particularly in a forest where it seemed to me that the chances of meeting with an accident were naturally high, and which offered the potential assassin opportunities not to be found elsewhere. However, it appeared that my services were not required, so, having despatched James Petrie to my lord’s chamber, I was left with time on my hands.
I went in search of Timothy Plummer.
I eventually ran him to earth in the council chamber, seated at the head of the table in what had obviously been my lord of Gloucester’s chair, and talking low and earnestly to a couple of nondescript-looking men whom I guessed, judging by their shifty expression and the way in which they blended effortlessly into the background, to be two of his spies.
He was plainly none too pleased to see me and sent the men away as soon as he saw me.
‘What are you doing here?’ he demanded abruptly. ‘Why aren’t you with Albany?’
‘Hunting? Really, Timothy, you should know better than that. Even the duke knew better than that. But he was willing to dispense with my invaluable protection in order to pursue the pleasures of the chase.’ I hitched one knee over a corner of the table and sat on it, an inch or two from Timothy’s chair. ‘Is this the way wars are always conducted?’ I asked disgustedly. ‘With pauses for feasting and hunting and general jollification? It’s a miracle any actual fighting gets done at all.’
He took a lofty tone. ‘You know nothing about anything, my lad, that has to do with your betters. You just stick to what you’ve been hired to do. Watch Albany’s back and keep your eyes on that precious pack of Scots he’s got around him. He seems pretty certain that one of them means him a mischief. Do you have any idea which one?’
I said I hadn’t, but then went on to tell him about events at Fotheringay and the strange business of the man in the Green Man mask. I even produced the silk leaf from my pouch and laid it on the table in front of him. Timothy seemed unimpressed, flicking it back to me with a careless finger.
‘Well, it appears to lend credence to Albany’s fears, at any rate. So just make sure that nothing happens to him.’ The Spymaster scraped back his chair from the table and rose. ‘We’re holding you responsible for his safety, Roger. Try to remember that. You don’t want to find yourself hanging from the end of a rope.’
Seven
As we continued northwards, it became ever more obvious that the devastation in these northern shires, occasioned by the recent, terrible weather, was greater by far than anything we had experienced in the south. Although an uncertain June had brought bouts of tremulous sunshine, much of the soil was still waterlogged, and such shoots as had dared to thrust their way above ground, were pallid and weak. The people working the land were grey-faced and despondent, barely lifting dull eyes from the toil of grubbing in the earth to watch our brave cavalcade pass by. Facing the prospect of yet another bad harvest, they had no time to waste on the vagaries of their lords and masters. It was all one to them if Berwick were an English or a Scottish town, and was of small importance beside the fear of death, disease and empty bellies. It’s true that as we moved into sheep country, there were a few raised fists, and a few raised voices, also, demanding to know why England had not gone to Burgundy’s aid in her war with France. But, generally speaking, apathy and despair held the bulk of the population silent.
I stayed close to Albany, riding behind the two squires, watching carefully for any hostile move on the part of either one of them; or on the part of Davey Gray, James Petrie or the groom. However, as the days went painfully by, nothing happened except that I became ever more weary and saddle-sore, while the conviction grew in me that the threat from his late brother’s retainers was merely a figment of Albany’s over-fertile imagination.
Eventually, I told him so and demanded to be released from his employ.
‘My lord, I beg you to tell Duke Richard that you have been mistaken and no longer have need of my services.’
It was the evening of the 17th day of June, and the entire army was encamped outside the walls of York in readiness for the Duke of Gloucester’s triumphal entry into the city the following morning. This was the heartland of Prince Richard’s vast northern palatinate, and he would have been less than human had he not wanted us all to see how revered and beloved he was by those whom he regarded as his own special people. Albany, already short-tempered at the prospect — realizing, perhaps, that he would never command such devotion — was in no mood to grant my request or even to consider it.
‘Do you think I’m a fool?’ he barked. ‘A hysterical woman who jumps at shadows? Besides, it’s not just these five, one of whom may — all right! I admit it — may have been suborned by my brother, James. But there are those, too, in the English camp who wish me ill and doubt my good intentions once the Scottish crown is set on my head. No! I will not release you, Roger. You are the only person I trust wholeheartedly; the only person who has proved himself my friend — and that at some risk to himself. Now, please don’t raise this subject again, or I shall be forced to advise my cousin Gloucester that you are unwilling to obey his orders.’
Albany had gone very red in the face, and I found myself wondering, in a detached kind of way, if he might not die of an apoplexy and so relieve me of the necessity of looking after him. He was obviously working himself up for another such outburst, accompanied by the further possibility of a seizure, when, just at that moment, James Petrie’s tall, emaciated figure entered the crimson silk pavilion, anxious — or so I gathered from Albany’s reply — to know what clothes his royal master would be wearing on the morrow. His agitation made it plain that Scotland’s honour must be upheld amidst this horde of Sassenachs.
‘The purple velvet and ermine of course,’ Albany snapped. Then, with a shrug of impatience, repeated the words in the broad Scots dialect that I found so hard to follow, in spite of some recognizably English words being embedded in it, like jewels amongst the dross.
James Petrie nodded, apparently satisfied, before adding something else that made Albany yelp in protest.
‘Daybreak?’ He turned to me, aghast. ‘Jamie says we’re entering the city at daybreak! Dear, sweet God in heaven!’
His henchman smiled grimly.
While the duke was still voicing his disgust, in both English and Scots, with some choice French phrases thrown in for good measure, I escaped from the pavilion and went to cool both my head and my temper amongst the other splendid silken tents, topped by their gaily waving pennants. I had strolled some distance, fascinated by all the bustle of a great encampment — the comings and goings, the toing and froing, the many and varied orders shouted and then almost immediately rescinded — when it occurred to me that I had left Albany alone with one of the men he ostensibly distrusted. Yet he had made no move to detain me; just as, four days ago, he had gone hunting in Sherwood Forest, quite content to leave me behind. There was something odd about it all. It was making me very uneasy.