contents. At last he dropped his hand, and the letter fell to the floor. He turned to the courtier. ‘War sounds a noble venture,
does it not, Torrance? An honourable pastime for kings and their braves. The only fair guide to who wins good fortune, and who loses it.’ He retrieved the letter, his face flushing with
anger. ‘But you know, my son, it is only when you see its scarlet teeth, when you smell its stinking cannibal breath that you realise that war is the devil’s own work. It is very hell.
Whoever wins.’
Gabriel sat down on the edge of a chair. Unease urged him to leave at once; compassion insisted he do his duty. A well brought up young man, his sense of duty won. He pressed a hand to his arm,
where he was bandaged, and indicated that the secretary should continue. While his liege talked, Gabriel fingered the rough cotton that held his wound together. He felt a little queasy.
‘D’you recall the king’s late mistress, that comely girl in Leith?’ Paniter asked. Gabriel nodded. ‘Well, her brother has died at Flodden, it would appear, and his
younger sister needs to be told. She’s only one of thousands like, but it tears my heart to pieces’ – he made a wrenching gesture over his shirt – ‘to destroy another
with such news the way I have been destroyed. Like me she will be ruined, her spirit cast away as if it were as light and useless as dust on the wind. I pity her.’
Paniter was panting as if he had run up the stairs. His hands were clenched. ‘The Brenier lass is due to come here tomorrow for the news, but I cannot keep her waiting.’ He heaved
himself out of his seat, gripping the settle while his dizziness cleared. After a pause, he spoke, his voice again firm and familiar. ‘I must ride to Leith now and break it to her, and her
grasping doxy of a mother.’ An apology of a smile crossed his face: ‘I will not sleep if I do not, you see.’
‘Let me go,’ said Gabriel, rising. ‘You are still weak.’
Paniter gave a bark more like a yelp of pain than a laugh. ‘And you, lad, with your arm wrapped in a sling, are in the very best of health?’
Gabriel smiled. ‘It is nothing, sir, trust me. Merely a flesh wound, already well on the way to healing. I was graced with great good favour on the field. More than my skill with a sword
deserved.’
Paniter looked grave once more. ‘I forget, you were in the thick of it all, Torrance. I cannot imagine how that must have felt. From our hill, Borthwick and I felt we were watching a
charnel house. If it was desperate at that remove, God alone knows what it was like where you were.’
‘I confess I’d rather not discuss it,’ said Gabriel. ‘It was unspeakable. Best for everyone it remain that way.’
‘Quite,’ said Paniter, reaching for his cloak. ‘I understand. But let us go to Leith together. I cannot commission you to do this for me. It is my obligation and mine alone to
bear the news, but your company will give me comfort in what I know will be a most miserable task. Also,’ he added, as they left the room, ‘Mme Brenier will no doubt try to sue the
court for guiltsilver for her daughter’s death. I need make it plain for once and forever that she has no cause, and no claim, for a groat more than she has already won.’
They began to make their way down the stairs. ‘I regret the day our king set eyes on that girl,’ Paniter continued. ‘A dreadful error of judgement, even had neither she nor the
king perished. Yet who could have known this liaison would haunt the court after James was gone?’ Unable to answer, Gabriel remained quiet, the wisest course with Paniter, as he had
learned.
For his part, Paniter appreciated the courtier’s talent for silence. Too many ambitious young men thought to ingratiate themselves with a demonstration of wit and knowledge so incessant,
it was like a slow but steady drip, capable, over time, of wearing down the hardiest of men. King James was more tolerant than his
does it not, Torrance? An honourable pastime for kings and their braves. The only fair guide to who wins good fortune, and who loses it.’ He retrieved the letter, his face flushing with
anger. ‘But you know, my son, it is only when you see its scarlet teeth, when you smell its stinking cannibal breath that you realise that war is the devil’s own work. It is very hell.
Whoever wins.’
Gabriel sat down on the edge of a chair. Unease urged him to leave at once; compassion insisted he do his duty. A well brought up young man, his sense of duty won. He pressed a hand to his arm,
where he was bandaged, and indicated that the secretary should continue. While his liege talked, Gabriel fingered the rough cotton that held his wound together. He felt a little queasy.
‘D’you recall the king’s late mistress, that comely girl in Leith?’ Paniter asked. Gabriel nodded. ‘Well, her brother has died at Flodden, it would appear, and his
younger sister needs to be told. She’s only one of thousands like, but it tears my heart to pieces’ – he made a wrenching gesture over his shirt – ‘to destroy another
with such news the way I have been destroyed. Like me she will be ruined, her spirit cast away as if it were as light and useless as dust on the wind. I pity her.’
Paniter was panting as if he had run up the stairs. His hands were clenched. ‘The Brenier lass is due to come here tomorrow for the news, but I cannot keep her waiting.’ He heaved
himself out of his seat, gripping the settle while his dizziness cleared. After a pause, he spoke, his voice again firm and familiar. ‘I must ride to Leith now and break it to her, and her
grasping doxy of a mother.’ An apology of a smile crossed his face: ‘I will not sleep if I do not, you see.’
‘Let me go,’ said Gabriel, rising. ‘You are still weak.’
Paniter gave a bark more like a yelp of pain than a laugh. ‘And you, lad, with your arm wrapped in a sling, are in the very best of health?’
Gabriel smiled. ‘It is nothing, sir, trust me. Merely a flesh wound, already well on the way to healing. I was graced with great good favour on the field. More than my skill with a sword
deserved.’
Paniter looked grave once more. ‘I forget, you were in the thick of it all, Torrance. I cannot imagine how that must have felt. From our hill, Borthwick and I felt we were watching a
charnel house. If it was desperate at that remove, God alone knows what it was like where you were.’
‘I confess I’d rather not discuss it,’ said Gabriel. ‘It was unspeakable. Best for everyone it remain that way.’
‘Quite,’ said Paniter, reaching for his cloak. ‘I understand. But let us go to Leith together. I cannot commission you to do this for me. It is my obligation and mine alone to
bear the news, but your company will give me comfort in what I know will be a most miserable task. Also,’ he added, as they left the room, ‘Mme Brenier will no doubt try to sue the
court for guiltsilver for her daughter’s death. I need make it plain for once and forever that she has no cause, and no claim, for a groat more than she has already won.’
They began to make their way down the stairs. ‘I regret the day our king set eyes on that girl,’ Paniter continued. ‘A dreadful error of judgement, even had neither she nor the
king perished. Yet who could have known this liaison would haunt the court after James was gone?’ Unable to answer, Gabriel remained quiet, the wisest course with Paniter, as he had
learned.
For his part, Paniter appreciated the courtier’s talent for silence. Too many ambitious young men thought to ingratiate themselves with a demonstration of wit and knowledge so incessant,
it was like a slow but steady drip, capable, over time, of wearing down the hardiest of men. King James was more tolerant than his
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