Dagger in the Crown (Tam Eildor mystery no.1)

by Alanna Knight

  ‘Aye, the same lad, I'd swear, that rescued me that night at Craigmillar. Dear God, if only he had waited. I meant him no harm.'

  It was impossible, but Tam could hardly suggest that Bothwell had become obsessed with the disappearance of Will Fellows, whom he had met only once and briefly in gathering darkness outside Craigmillar Castle, and had described as having a bonnet down over his eyes. He could hardly point out without causing offence that any youth similarly muffled against the cold might resemble him.

  Tam had his own theory that the six young pages left to their own devices had been capering about to keep warm, exploring the ruinous extents of the priory buildings. A worn stone had been accidentally dislodged. By merest chance, Bothwell had been walking beneath at that moment, and no real surprise that the culprit had not rushed forward to confess either.

  A more unhappy thought, nothing to do with Will Fellows, was that the page might have been bribed to follow Bothwell and, awaiting opportunity, hurl a loose stone down on him.

  From Bothwell's confused and angry expression, Tam realized that the same thought had struck them both.

  'Did you observe this lad among the pages who accompanied us, my Lord?'

  Bothwell shrugged. 'I take little note of servants. It was dark, all were swathed in black cloaks. Besides, I am not on the lookout for likely young pages. My name is not Henry Darnley,' he added scornfully.

  The Queen and the Maries had reached the waiting horses at the edge of the ice-bound loch, followed by their hosts. Canon Malcolm gave his blessing for their safe return to Stirling.

  'Dear God,’ muttered Bothwell, looking back to the priory, now silhouetted against the darkening sky. 'If only we could stay and I could find that lad again. We must keep this from the Queen - at all costs, d'ye hear, Eildor?' he added sternly.

  Once again in single file, they prepared to cross the ice to the other side of the loch, dimly blue in the already fading light.

  'As before, you lead with the pages, Eildor. I will bring up the rear again,' said Bothwell.

  This suited Tam's purpose very well. More confident than he had been on the first crossing and safely on solid ground once more, he turned his horse and counted the riders.

  Behind him the pages, followed by the Queen, her Maries.

  He counted. One, two, three . . .

  Bothwell came ashore. The last rider.

  Twelve.

  Twelve. When there should have been thirteen.

  'Are we all assembled?' asked Bothwell.

  'Are we sure no one is missing?' asked Tam.

  Heads were shaken all around.

  But one was missing, someone none of the party had particularly observed when the journey began in the dark before sunrise.

  A torch-bearer. One of the pages was missing.

  Tam stared back at the black silhouette of the now distant priory.

  Where was he? His absence suggested that Bothwell was right, that this was another attempt to kill him. Was the would-be assassin still on the island in hiding somewhere?

  It was then that Tam saw a rider leaving the loch some two hundred yards to the north of them. At that moment, he had just reached the shore and was disappearing into the woods.

  Tam realized that whereas they had ridden slowly, carefully, in single line for safety, the rider had galloped fast across the ice. He had gained time and would soon be well ahead of them on the Stirling road.

  'Tam?' Marie was at his side. 'What is it? Why do you hesitate? Is something wrong?'

  Tam realized the folly of involving Marie in any of these sinister happenings, but said, 'We are one short. One of the pages rode on ahead. He took a path higher up the loch.'

  Marie smiled. 'Oh, he will be safe enough. The ice will hold him. The Queen awaits.'

  About to move forward, he took her rein, said, 'Would you recognize any of the pages again?'

  'The stable boys, Tam?' Marie laughed. 'They all look exactly alike to me. I'm afraid I never know one from another. We are brought up to avoid eye contact, you know,' she added primly.

  As she rode off, Tam glanced towards Bothwell. Deep in conversation with the Queen, he had not noticed and Tam felt disinclined to draw the missing rider to his attention.

  Doubtless Bothwell's reply would be the same as Marie's. That he did not know one stable boy from another. Yet he thought he had recognized Will Fellows.

  As for the missing rider, whatever his identity, they had little hope of meeting him on the road. If he was behind what had happened back on Inchmahome, a clumsy accident or another unsuccessful attempt on Bothwell's life, the lad would be safe back in Stirling and invisible once again long before they reached the castle.

  Watching Bothwell riding proudly ahead, laughing with the Queen at some private joke, Tam was glad of the pistol at his side. Thankful, too, that my Lord Bothwell was not being carried back to Stirling on a litter.

  A dead man.

  The thirteenth rider arrived back well ahead of them and watched their approach from a high window in the castle. It would have been quite satisfying if the little procession below had included my Lord Bothwell being carried on a litter.

  In pain and agony, with a few broken bones.

  But not dead. Not yet.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Thursday 19 December 1566. Evening

  Darkness had fallen when they reached the castle. Tam led Ajax towards the royal stables, hoping to discover the identity of the page who had been the thirteenth rider and his reasons for choosing to ride back to Stirling alone.

  Candlelight and laughter led him to the horse-keepers' saddle room, where five heads turned quickly towards him. There was no need to introduce himself. The lads at the table rose from their repast and bowed. Clearly astonished that they should receive a visit from Lady Buccleuch's steward, they exchanged glances.

  Could he have read their thoughts, Tam wondered, would their anxiety have related to Lord Bothwell's misadventure with the fallen masonry at the priory and the search for a scapegoat?

  He tried to put them at their ease by saying how well the day had gone and thanking them for their part in making matters run so smoothly. The sighs of relief were almost audible. They relaxed.

  'But you are one short,' he continued amiably. 'There were six of you?'

  Looks were exchanged. Silence. Then the oldest said; 'He came along at the last minute, sir, just as we were leaving.'

  'Indeed? His name?'

  Again looks were exchanged, cautious this time. Heads were shaken. 'He never told us, sir.'

  'No, sir.' Eager this time. 'He kept himself to himself

  'Didna seem to want to join in,' put in the first lad.

  'Aye, a bit above the rest of us, if ye ken what I mean.'

  'Oh,' said Tam. 'In what way?'

  This question produced an uncomfortable silence.

  'He hinted that he was sent by Lord Darnley to make sure that Her Grace travelled in safety and that no ill befell her.'

  Tam nodded grimly. That was not quite the kindly interpretation most folks at court would have put upon Lord Darnley's husbandly care. A much more sinister one came to mind.

  'Is the matter urgent, sir? Can we help you?'

  'Only by telling me where I can find him.'

  Doubtful looks across at Tam clearly indicated their concern. Was this man questioning them about a secret spy sent by the Queen? Rumours were rife. Now what was he asking?

  'Were any of you in the vicinity when that piece of masonry fell? There was nearly a very nasty accident.'

  They had been talking about that among themselves before this man arrived. Heads were shaken. 'No, sir. The five of us were playing dice, over by the horses at the ferry landing.'

  A shudder of apprehension went through the little group as Tam asked, 'So this other page wasn't with you, and you have no idea who he was?'

  'No, sir. We do know that Lord Darnley favoured him,' came a somewhat reluctant whisper from the eldest and bravest of the gro
up.

  'How do you know that?' asked Tam.

  'Angus here saw him leaving the King's apartments very late one night - did ye not?'

  The lad addressed as Angus said shortly, 'That is none of our business, Jock. There could have been a lot of reasons.'

  Another of the lads laughed coarsely. 'But not for such a pretty lad. The King's taste is well known.'

  'That is enough. Enough, I say,' said Angus. And to Tam, 'Take no notice, sir. Such gossip is dangerous.'

  Tam made reassuring noises and left them, frustrated by another path into the labyrinth leading nowhere. But the odds that Darnley was behind the attempts on Bothwell's life were increasing. Perhaps it was not too remote a possibility that the thirteenth rider, favoured by him, had been sent to Inchmahome to spy on the Queen and arrange a convenient accident.

  Deep in thought, Tam made his way to Janet Beaton's apartment, where the candles had been lit for some time. As he entered, she turned to him angrily. 'Jesu, where have you been? You have taken your time. I heard the Queen and Bothwell ride in hours ago. Dallying with Seton, once again, were ye?' she sneered.

  Bad moods seemed to be the order of the day. Something had upset Janet Beaton too. Before he could utter a word of explanation she demanded sharply, 'Did ye have a pleasant day? I hope none of you die from the effects of creeping about that priory in the freezing cold.'

  Tam decided he had best soften her mood by telling her of Bothwell's accident. It was a mistake.

  She heard him out and said, 'Jesu, Tam, has the man no sense at all? The place is in a ruinous condition and if, as ye suggest, the pages were running about, trying to keep warm no doubt, a stone could easily have been dislodged. As for Will Fellows - ' with a heavenward sigh - 'surely my Lord Bothwell is allowing his imagination to play tricks on him - again?'

  Quickly realizing that Janet was running out of patience and sympathy, Tam explained about his search for the thirteenth rider and his recent visit to the stables.

  'That is why I am late, Janet. I suspect a plot against my Lord Bothwell - at the instigation of the King.'

  'God's love, Tam, how can ye be so naïve?' Janet thumped her fists together and regarded him savagely. ‘A stone falls from ancient masonry and your missing rider - who was somewhere in the vicinity - feels guilty. And afraid. With good reason,' she added grimly. 'Would ye want to be taken to task and face Jamie Hepburn's anger, if ye had narrowly missed killing him? A man of power and influence. The lad would lose his situation - and be lucky if that was all his punishment.'

  At any other time, Tam felt, Janet would have been more concerned about Bothwell's safety. He was soon to learn why she was not on this occasion.

  ‘And did Lord Bothwell return with you?' she demanded suspiciously. When Tam said he did, she went on bitterly, 'He had best make the most of the next few days, before Her Grace goes to Drummond. Not having been invited, he plans to take his much neglected wife, Lady Jean, as second best, to Crichton Castle, to his sister Janet's home. A very pleasant family reunion,' she said sarcastically. 'The lass is a firm favourite with Her Grace, seeing that she is married to her father's other bastard, Lord John Stewart. Ye havena' met him, but he's a charming man, loyal to Her Grace. And a very different prospect to our scheming, ambitious Moray.'

  'No doubt Lord Bothwell will find such society a pleasant change after the intrigues of the court.'

  But Tam had said the wrong thing again and made Janet scowl more than ever. 'Ye're missing the point, Tam. I fancy this will be a much sought after conjugal reconciliation. Despite his protests that he cannot bear to touch her, that he loves only me, I ken Jamie Hepburn better than he kens himself.' She sighed deeply. 'His intentions run towards the urgent need of an heir - a legitimate one would be very desirable,' she added drily.

  'I am sorry, Janet,' said Tam.

  Suddenly her mood changed. She smiled with all her customary radiance. 'Never mind, Tam, we still have each other for consolation,' she said, with a wicked glint in her eye which Tam could not fail to misinterpret. 'Especially as Her Grace is taking Seton to Drummond with her.' She poured some wine, handed him a goblet. 'This missing page ye are so concerned about, this thirteenth rider - perhaps he had his own innocent reasons for riding ahead of ye to Stirling. Nothing to do with falling masonry. Do not ask me what they were - I canna cope with the ways of young pages - or the King's catamites.' She shrugged. 'Perhaps he was better acquainted with the area and just kenned a quicker way back.'

  Tam was not convinced, but there was another more pressing matter. 'This strange and sudden illness of Seton's maid? You examined her, I believe.'

  Janet regarded him, hands on hips and laughed. 'Tam, Tam - Bess was merely succumbing to a middle-aged woman's trouble. Does Seton not ken such things?'

  'She made it sound very sinister,’ said Tam.

  'Sinister!' Janet laughed. 'God's love, Tam. The poor woman has floodings with her monthly courses which are getting steadily worse. Maybe she was too shy to discuss such matters with young Marie. Perhaps she only confided in me in desperation, knowing that I might have herbs which can help.' She shook her head. 'But she needs to rest on such days. A man might not realize, but being maid to any of the Queen's Maries is very demanding and exhausting.' Pausing she looked at him, then said gently, 'And so you thought she was being poisoned?'

  'There is a lot of it around,' said Tam soberly. 'But I should like to talk to the maid, recommended to Marie by Lady Jean Gordon.'

  'So?' queried Janet.

  'I have been thinking about those poisoned sweetmeats.'

  'And?' Janet's smile was mocking.

  'Do you not see?' he said desperately.' This new maid who was with her at the time, possibly from her own household, could have been well acquainted with my Lord Bothwell's habits.' Pausing to let this sink in, he said, 'It would have been possible for her to set the trap for him - at Lady Jean's command.'

  Janet frowned. 'Is Seton aware of the poisoning attempt?' When Tam shook his head, she went on, 'Are you sure you want to involve her in all this, Tam?' She paused. 'If she discovered something dangerous, a plot that Bothwell's enemies are anxious to keep secret, have you considered that you might be putting her life in peril too? By taking advantage of her affection for you.' And seeing his expression, she laughed. 'Oh, I ken all about it, and so does everyone else at court. She is not very good at concealing her feelings is our Mistress Seton.'

  'Not for much longer, Janet. When she returns from Drummond after Christmas, I have a strong feeling that she will be ready to announce her betrothal to Adam Drummond.'

  'So-o,’ said Janet significantly, 'that's the way of it. And will that please you?

  Tam shrugged. 'It is the best thing for her.'

  'But not for you, I fear.' She looked at him intently and, leaning over, stroked his cheek. 'Ye're a strange and curious man, right enough, Tam Eildor. Different from any others I have met in my long experience.' Smiling, she added, 'No wonder women find you so interesting, such a challenge.' Then, regarding him narrowly, in the same words Marie had used on Inchmahome, she whispered, 'Who are you, Tam?'

  ‘I have not the slightest idea, Janet. But if I ever find out,' he said, grinning, 'be assured, you will be the first to know.'

  She laughed too. 'Meanwhile, we have each other for Christmas.'

  'Branxholm, is it?'

  'Nay. We stay in Stirling, but not here in the castle. Ye'll have seen it down the road. Mar's Lodging. Not as grand as this and Lord Erskine plans to tear it down and replace it with a grander, more modern palace. But we'll be comfortable there, as it is tolerably well furnished. Lady Morham will be with us. She is here for Fleming's wedding. As you know, they have always been close.' Frowning, she added sharply, 'Her main reason is to see her son, who will not be here, a sadness for her, but she was overjoyed to accompany Mistress Sinclair and travel in a litter'

  'Mistress Sinclair is staying in Stirling?'

  'Aye, she has a widowed sister, Mistress Else
Mowat, who lives in Bow Street. They are spending Christmas together'

  So he was to meet Anna Throndsen's sister at last.

  But more immediately, he was summoned by the Queen. Her Grace wished him to sing for her.

  Janet's eyebrows rose in mocking despair as he hurried across to the royal apartments, where the Queen had just received a very important visitor who made himself known long before he reached her door.

  Tam had a glimpse of the ugly little Prince yelling lustily in his nurse's arms, his gnomish face not made any prettier by being bright scarlet, clearly in a very bad mood.

  The Queen, however, clutched him to her as if he was the most beautiful, most saintly small creature in the whole world. She cooed over him, kissing the tear-stained face.

  At last she was aware of Tam and, smiling, regarded him with an expression of bemused preoccupation.

  Anxious not to interrupt one of her rare moments of well-deserved bliss, he felt that competition with the infant Prince was to be avoided at all costs. Especially any bright suggestion that might occur to Her Grace of calling upon him to sing a lullaby. Bowing himself out, he lingered in the antechamber on the off chance that the Queen might remember the reason she had summoned him. And that Marie Seton might put in an appearance.

  As he loitered, Livingstone came over. 'Seton has gone with Fleming to discuss matters regarding coifs for the wedding. It seems to be a matter of urgency.' Seeing Tam's confusion, she smiled. 'Her Grace might be some time. Small babies can be very demanding, especially this one. And Her Grace has an audience with the ambassadors within the hour. I presume it is Seton you await - or is there something I can do?'

  Thanking her, Tam bowed and exited quickly. It would seem that there were no secrets between the four Maries and that his dalliance with Seton was common knowledge.

  Before departing for Drummond, the Queen was to make dramatic political moves which would have far-reaching consequences. Decisions perhaps also dictated by a mood of Christian charity as the season demanded, that would receive a mixed and often heated response from her subjects, as well as those with her best interests at heart.