by Derek Gorman
The Earl took to a role of power and influence very well although quickly betrayed King James in the Raid of Ruthven joining the side of the Lords who imprisoned him for over a year. It was King James’s kindness, or some might say weakness, that meant the Earl had a second chance of redemption following that incident.
The Earl played a key part in the Treaty of Berwick, ensuring peace between England and Scotland. He really believed in Scottish nationalism and superiority over the English. It was therefore no surprise that when Queen Mary was executed, he led the faction that believed the correct response would be to invade England. Calmer heads prevailed, but the Earl had his moment of shining glory. He was Lord High Admiral of the Scottish Navy when the Spanish Armada were defeated. Whilst this might have been down to the weather and rocky shoreline rather than military guile, it was a proud moment in Scottish naval history and one that the Earl revelled in.
Unfortunately, the Earl’s treasonous nature couldn’t be contained for too long and he was one of the key lords behind another plot to seize the King and Lord Maitland from Holyroodhouse, only being foiled when neither were there. He was therefore found guilty of treason a few months earlier, with the punishment still to be decided by the King.
His hurried manner was therefore clearly of someone who had escaped wherever they were being held and was here to seek Lord Sinclair’s help. Heaven only knows what he would have done if he knew that the King and Lord Maitland were sleeping only a few feet away from the stairs he was racing up. He was in such a hurry he skipped and missed the steps as he flew up them.
Upon reaching the top of the landing, he couldn’t quite remember which room was Lord Maitland’s and which was Lady Maitland’s. He definitely didn’t want to make a mistake at this time of night. Little did he know that if he chose rightly, and chose Lord Maitland’s usual bedchamber, then he would actually burst in and see King James fast asleep with the poets Mark and William.
He continued pondering and just didn’t remember. He therefore rushed back downstairs to ask the Head of the Household, who was making his way up the stairs to confront the Earl.
“Which room is the Master’s bedchamber?” asked the Earl.
“It’s the one on the left, but..” said the Head of the Household, but before he could finish what he wanted to say the Earl had already flown back up the stairs and was now fast approaching the master’s bedchamber.
He knocked forcefully on it but didn’t wait for a response before opening it. It was dark with no candlelight visible, so the Earl went back into the landing to take the candle there and walked back into the room towards the King’s bed.
“Lord Sinclair, Lord Sinclair, wake up. I need to speak with you,” said the Earl.
The bed’s occupants woke, and it began with Mark and William who both got up in unison.
That the bed had two participants startled the Earl, especially given that they were men. He couldn’t quite make out who they were, but he was surprised as he never thought Lord Sinclair was that way inclined.
“What on earth are you doing here? I think three is enough, don’t you?” asked William in an annoyed tone.
The King was passed out and still snoring.
“Lord Sinclair?” asked a hesitant Earl.
“This is the King’s bed for tonight, now bog off!” instructed William.
The Earl was shell shocked and left the room, apologising profusely on his way out. He had escaped such a close shave. The man who had sentenced him to treason was only feet away. How lucky he was to have escaped with his life.
He then proceeded to the Lady’s bedchamber, assuming that Lord Sinclair was therefore sleeping in the same bedchamber as his wife. He approached the door and knocked forcefully.
“Lord Sinclair, I need to speak with you,” bellowed the Earl.
Before he opened the door, the door had swung open, and there was Lord Maitland stood there.
“The Earl of Bothwell, what a pleasure it is to see you. I thought you were enjoying the Majesty’s facilities in detention?” Said Lord Maitland.
Before he gave the stunned Earl a chance to respond, he immediately called out for guards to come at the top of his voice.
“Guards, Guards, seize this man! The Earl is a wanted man,” bellowed Lord Maitland.
The entire castle was awake with all the commotion, and everybody on all floors had left their rooms to see what was going on.
The Earl quickly realised that this was no place for him, and much like Claude earlier on, he scarpered back down the stairs like a rocket and was heading to the door. Before he reached the door, Lord Maitland screamed, “You can run Bothwell, but that is all you can do. You can never be at peace!”
And with that, the Earl of Bothwell was gone. He jumped on his horse and cantered off at quite some speed into the night.
The King had awoken by now and made his way to the landing and asked, “who was that?”
“That, your Majesty, was the Earl of Bothwell,” replied Lord Maitland.
“The Earl of Bothwell. How dare he. He has caused my family enough problems over the years. Him and all the Bothwell clan are no good, but they garner significant support.”
“I know, we need to figure out a way to nullify him. Don’t worry, I’ll fix it,” said Lord Maitland.
“Good good, but don’t forget to involve Lord Sinclair, he has a wise head for matters like these,” replied the King.
Lord Maitland was a little upset that he wasn’t trusted to solve a matter like this, but he accepted why the King asked for Lord Sinclair’s involvement.
Lord Sinclair too had awoken and was on the landing.
“I’m sorry gentlemen, I hear that the commotion was the Earl of Bothwell who had come to see me,” said Lord Sinclair.
“Why would he see you?” asked Lord Maitland.
“Yes, why?” said the King joining in.
All eyes were now pointing at Lord Sinclair, and he didn’t like where this conversation was headed.
“Gentlemen, let’s keep our heads. My Head of Household informed me that he was actually here to see me. I do not understand why. He perhaps wanted some advice or to beg for forgiveness,” said Lord Sinclair.
“Perhaps - but if he wanted to beg for forgiveness then now would have been an opportune moment, don’t you agree?” replied Lord Maitland.
“I do, but I think we startled the poor chap,” said Lord Sinclair. “First, he enters my bedchamber finding the King and then he enters Lady Sinclair’s bedchamber and finds Lord Maitland. That would be enough of a surprise to send even the most regretful of men scampering out of the castle and riding for the hills.”
This made logical sense, which the King and Lord Maitland accepted. After all of this commotion it would be difficult to go back to sleep, so the Lords went for a smoke of tobacco to relax the senses. This couldn’t have been done in the open, so they feigned yawning and waited for the King to head back to his bedchamber before going for a smoke.
They leaned against one window to have a look at the night sky with their pipes now lit and a dim of smoke being built up.
“What a night,” said Lord Maitland.
“Yes, a memorable one for sure,” said Lord Sinclair. “I’m not sure what to make of it. We had The Ambassador make his way here all the way from London. Entertainment from some of Scotland’s finest poets. The Moore. Who can forget about him? A feast that took a month of planning. We had the King and his personal entertainment. Claude returned, finally. The auction was a massive success. The game of noddy. And the Earl of Bothwell’s late interlude.”
“I must admit, you laid on a magnificent event and I’m sure the King will be thankful in the morning,” admitted Lord Maitland grudgingly.
“Thank-you. Coming from you, that is a compliment,” replied Lord Sinclair.
And with that, they stubbed out their tobacco, patted each other on the back and headed upstairs back to sleep. There had been enough excitement for one banquet.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Morning After
Lord Sinclair was the first to wake, or so he assumed. At the first glimmer of daylight through the windows, the Lord was up and already downstairs to ensure that breakfast preparations were underway. It was downstairs that he discovered that the poets had already departed - an engagement in Edinburgh was what the servants told him.
The weather did not look good. Storm clouds were on the horizon and even though it was daylight, it was quite dark, which made it appear to be early evening on a summer’s day rather than the morning.
It was quite a sight in the kitchen with servants and chefs scurrying around. The whiff of freshly baked bread in the morning was delightfully enjoyed by Lord Sinclair. It would be bread, sage, and butter for breakfast served with a nice ale to wash away any hangovers from the previous evening’s festivities.
The Melville’s were next to wake. Jane had barely slept a wink, still tormented by the curse placed upon her. Andrew had spent the night reassuring her that they would take legal action to find out whether the woman was a witch or a fraud but Jane didn’t want to bring any attention to their predicament and thought it was best to just forget it, although that was easier said than done.
“Lord Sinclair, it really smells nice down here,” said Andrew.
“Why, thank-you,” responded Lord Sinclair. “After all that trouble last night, I’m hoping that the smell of fresh bread will act as a kind of aromatherapy for calming nerves.”
“Well, I think you might need to do the opposite of a rain dance because I don’t think that storm that is headed this way will calm anyone,” observed Andrew.
Lord Sinclair scrunched his face but didn’t want to face reality for the time being, still hoping that the storm might be diverted elsewhere.
Nobody would begin breakfast until the King was up, so Lord Sinclair and the Melville’s continued their discussion in the kitchen. It was Lord Sinclair’s home and the Melville’s were used to being around in kitchens so they thought nothing of the informality. It was reassuringly cosy.
There was however an awkward silence as they really didn’t know what to say to each other, Andrew broke the silence, “So I hear that the University of Copenhagen have built a dormitory.”
“A dormitory?” asked a puzzled Lord Sinclair.
“Yes, Valkendorfs Kollegium is what it’s called. It’s where the students can sleep and live whilst they are studying. It used to be a monastery before a chap called Valkendorfs bought it and turned it into a dormitory.”
“Whatever will the Danish think of next. I guess with Anne - we’ll have more of these Scandinavian ideas permeating here,” replied Lord Sinclair.
The silence had returned. Although, it was now even more awkward than before given that the attempt to kick start some natural conversation had failed.
It was now Lord Sinclair’s turn, “I heard that Job of Moscow had been announced as the first ever Patriarch of Moscow and all of Russia.”
Andrew was ashamed as he didn’t know what a Patriarch was. Jane saw this and stepped in, it was less embarrassing if she interrupted, “Sorry Lord Sinclair, what is a Patriarch and who is this Job?”
“Ahh Jane, now that is a question! Andrew - why can’t you ask intelligent questions like this?” remarked Lord Sinclair. Andrew was sure that Lord Sinclair was trying to wind him up, but Lord Sinclair continued, “The Patriarch is the Bishop of Moscow and also head of the Russian Orthodox Church. It was a gigantic step for them to announce their first ever head. Similar to the power struggles we had here between Religion and Kings. In Russia, they have Tsars who rule and this upset many people so some of that power was transferred to the Patriarchs so effectively you now will have a political battle between Tsars and Patriarchs as to who runs the country. That they have even appointed a Patriarch means that Tsar Fyodor is weak.”
Jane feigned interest but as soon as she heard that it was about more political infighting she switched off, she had seen enough of that in Scotland and England so had little interest in learning more about the problems in Russia.
The awkward silence had once again returned. Luckily, Lady Sinclair was the next to awaken and headed downstairs to join her husband.
“I see you are all here in the kitchen, I too love the smell of bread in the morning. Isn’t it calming?” remarked Lady Sinclair.
Before anyone could respond, thunder was heard in the distance and then lightning could be seen. It looked as if the storm was headed closer. Lord Sinclair sighed and had now accepted his fate that the storm was indeed headed to Knockhall.
“Secure the horses, border up the windows and doors. Let’s batten down the hatches,” was the order from Lord Sinclair to his Head of the Household.
Servants then scurried around to make it happen. A few minutes later they returned having complied but hadn’t ordered up the King’s or Lord Maitland’s rooms.
“What shall we do?” asked the Head of the Household.
“Leave the King to sleep. Have someone ready to border it up as soon as he wakes. As for Lord & Lady Maitland, wake them up - their security is of the paramount importance,” said Lord Sinclair with a wry smile. It might be a minor victory, but he would savour any way of getting one back at Maitland.
A few minutes later, Lord and Lady Maitland headed downstairs towards the kitchen. Upon arriving, Lord Maitland was in a foul mood, displeased at the early rude awakening.” What is this? A peasant’s convention. Can we all gather like civilised people and await the King’s arrival in the banqueting hall? This isn’t Ulster, you know,” said Lord Maitland in a condescending tone.
Lord Sinclair blushed slightly as he knew that Lord Maitland was right. The kitchen was no place for the Lord and definitely no place for the Lord and five others. So, they all made their way to the banqueting hall, still awaiting the King. Whilst it was no longer possible to see outside given that the windows were bordered up - the wind could be heard howling, testing the barricades outside. The thunder was now closer and the lightning more frequent. The storm was here.
Jane was nervous and clung tightly to Andrew. Elsewhere in the castle, a servant could be heard shouting that the King had awoken. This was unsurprising, given that there was now a violent storm underway.
The King entered the banqueting hall.
“Good Morning, your Majesty,” said Lord Sinclair invitingly.
“Morning, Sinclair,” replied the King, slightly flustered. “Where are the poets? I don’t see them anywhere.”
“Unfortunately, they left at the crack of dawn as they had other commitments.”
The King muttered something incomprehensible and then sat down. A lightning bolt struck nearby, which threw the King off balance. Lord Maitland stifled a snigger.
“I see we are in for a rough day,” said the King.
Breakfast was brought out by the servants. The whiff of fresh bread was now a fixture of the banqueting hall. It lifted the mood in the room immediately.
The King sat on his chair, looked around the room and saw Lord Sinclair sat next to Lady Sinclair - they were at peace next to each other. Lord Maitland sat next to Lady Maitland - they looked distant from one another. The Melville’s were there together - cosy as always.
The King then blurted out, “Where is the Ambassador?”
This panicked the rest of the room, which were left wondering why they had forgotten about him. He was an elderly man, and the storm was violently loud now. Could he have passed away in his sleep?
Upon seeing a lack of leadership in the room, the King instructed everyone to follow him, so they all did as they were told. One-by-one in single file up the staircase to the top and into the Ambassador’s room. There was an air of trepidation as they stepped into the room, concerned what they may find. The King sent Lord Sinclair first in. Lord Sinclair creaked open the door to be greeted by a motionless Ambassador lying on his bed. He didn’t appear to be breathing. Lord Sinclair wasn’t keen on moving closer until prodded to by the King
. He crept closer and was now right next to the bed. The Ambassador didn’t appear to be breathing. He didn’t know what to do, so shrugged his shoulders.
“Have a listen to his mouth to see if he is breathing,” encouraged the King.
Lord Sinclair therefore leaned down to the Ambassadors mouth to have a listen. The Ambassador farted and coughed out some flem into Lord Sinclair’s ear. The Ambassador awoke, surprised by the intrusion. Lord Sinclair was startled and disgusted at the same time whilst the King was laughing hysterically. The Ambassador was okay.
And with the excitement over, everyone except the Ambassador returned to the banqueting hall to finish breakfast.
The wind was now really howling outside. It didn’t look like anybody would leave soon. The King gestured for Lord Sinclair to come over to him.
“Yes, your Majesty,” said Lord Sinclair.
“You remember that young indigenous woman that you brought to my chamber last night? Have her in my chamber in five minutes. If I am stuck here, then I might as well enjoy myself,” said the King laughing to himself.
“I’m afraid that she left last night. All the performers left immediately for another show many miles away,” said Lord Sinclair with a slightly trembling voice.
The King again muttered something incomprehensible and waved away Lord Sinclair, who didn’t need a second invitation and scarpered. The look on the King was now one of annoyance as to why the Gods had subjected him to this.
There wasn’t much conversation in the room. The food had been cleared away and without the poets the energy and noise in the room was much lower than it had been the previous evening.
