Mary Queen of Scotland & the Isles by Margaret George Page A
Authors: Margaret George
Tags: Fiction, Historical
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end, she said, "But for you it is not a sport. For you it is a livelihood. Why is it that Scotsmen fight for the French King? And how did you come here?"
He put down his big bow; his was almost six feet in height, and could shoot an arrow a hundred yards or more. "The French and the Scots have been friends a long time," he said. "They had the same enemy, England, and those who have the same enemy can be fast friends indeed. They call it the "Auld Alliance," and it is old; it goes back two hundred years at least. As to why there's a Scots Archer Guard why, everyone knows Scotsmen are the best soldiers in the world!"
"But you aren't answering my question! Not all of it, anyway. Why are you here?"
"I had a desire to see something besides my own shores, if only to be content to return to them someday. If I wish to live in my native land and love her, it should not be out of ignorance. There are many other Scots here; hordes of them come over to study in Paris. Have you met any of them?"
She laughed. "No! How would I? I cannot roam the streets of Paris as I can the forest of Fontainebleau."
His captain was sounding a horn. "You'd best be going," Rob said. "I am called to regular duties." He looked at her and smiled. "I will never betray your secret, Most Imperial Royal Huntress. Here." He handed her back a fistful of her arrows. "It's best you not leave these in the woods."
By the time she carefully made her way back into the children's quarters of the palace, the younger ones were just waking up from their naps. Dinner would be served soon, and Mary had worked up a fierce appetite.
Usually the children ate by themselves, watched over by all their nurses and governesses. Today, however, the Queen gave orders that they were to eat with her, in her own quarters. Dutifully they trooped to her privy chamber, where a table was set with crystal goblets and golden plates for the children who were able to comport themselves with such finery: Mary herself, Lusty, Flamina, Beaton, and Seton, Francois and Elisabeth. Mary felt vaguely sorry for Francois, surrounded as he was entirely by girls; Rob was better off in the forest.
"Pray, dine with me," the Queen was saying, her oddly expressionless eyes counting them off one by one as they filed into the room. The Queen was pregnant again; soon there would be another child in the nursery.
She fussed over Francois and insisted on draping his napkin herself. Then she settled down, with a great sigh of her skirts, and began watching them eat. Mary felt her appetite draining away under the scrutiny.
"My dear children," Catherine de Medicis was saying, "we will soon be moving to Chambord for the summer. Now you know that means you will have to leave the pet bear here, where his keeper is. Nonetheless, you may select a hound for yourselves from the kennels at Chambord."
Francois slammed his fist down on the table. "Want the bear!" he muttered. He was especially fond of the bear, a recent gift, and had named him Old Julius.
Catherine de Medicis's eye fell on him like a black cloud. He fell silent.
"And we must prepare ourselves to entertain a most marvelous embassy from abroad. The Queen Mother of Scotland is coming. " She slid her eye over to Mary. "Yes, my dear, your mother is coming to France!"
For the next few months Mary prepared for the visit. To see her dear mother again! It seemed as if the seven-year-old's prayers had been answered, for every night since she had arrived in France she had added a wistful request that her mother come and see her.
She worked extra hard on her Latin; memorized French poetry and studied history as much as she could. She pestered her guardian, John Erskine, who had remained in France with her, to tell her all about what was happening in Scotland. He tried to explain about the continuing problems with the English, but Mary could not really grasp any of it. She understood only that her mother was
He put down his big bow; his was almost six feet in height, and could shoot an arrow a hundred yards or more. "The French and the Scots have been friends a long time," he said. "They had the same enemy, England, and those who have the same enemy can be fast friends indeed. They call it the "Auld Alliance," and it is old; it goes back two hundred years at least. As to why there's a Scots Archer Guard why, everyone knows Scotsmen are the best soldiers in the world!"
"But you aren't answering my question! Not all of it, anyway. Why are you here?"
"I had a desire to see something besides my own shores, if only to be content to return to them someday. If I wish to live in my native land and love her, it should not be out of ignorance. There are many other Scots here; hordes of them come over to study in Paris. Have you met any of them?"
She laughed. "No! How would I? I cannot roam the streets of Paris as I can the forest of Fontainebleau."
His captain was sounding a horn. "You'd best be going," Rob said. "I am called to regular duties." He looked at her and smiled. "I will never betray your secret, Most Imperial Royal Huntress. Here." He handed her back a fistful of her arrows. "It's best you not leave these in the woods."
By the time she carefully made her way back into the children's quarters of the palace, the younger ones were just waking up from their naps. Dinner would be served soon, and Mary had worked up a fierce appetite.
Usually the children ate by themselves, watched over by all their nurses and governesses. Today, however, the Queen gave orders that they were to eat with her, in her own quarters. Dutifully they trooped to her privy chamber, where a table was set with crystal goblets and golden plates for the children who were able to comport themselves with such finery: Mary herself, Lusty, Flamina, Beaton, and Seton, Francois and Elisabeth. Mary felt vaguely sorry for Francois, surrounded as he was entirely by girls; Rob was better off in the forest.
"Pray, dine with me," the Queen was saying, her oddly expressionless eyes counting them off one by one as they filed into the room. The Queen was pregnant again; soon there would be another child in the nursery.
She fussed over Francois and insisted on draping his napkin herself. Then she settled down, with a great sigh of her skirts, and began watching them eat. Mary felt her appetite draining away under the scrutiny.
"My dear children," Catherine de Medicis was saying, "we will soon be moving to Chambord for the summer. Now you know that means you will have to leave the pet bear here, where his keeper is. Nonetheless, you may select a hound for yourselves from the kennels at Chambord."
Francois slammed his fist down on the table. "Want the bear!" he muttered. He was especially fond of the bear, a recent gift, and had named him Old Julius.
Catherine de Medicis's eye fell on him like a black cloud. He fell silent.
"And we must prepare ourselves to entertain a most marvelous embassy from abroad. The Queen Mother of Scotland is coming. " She slid her eye over to Mary. "Yes, my dear, your mother is coming to France!"
For the next few months Mary prepared for the visit. To see her dear mother again! It seemed as if the seven-year-old's prayers had been answered, for every night since she had arrived in France she had added a wistful request that her mother come and see her.
She worked extra hard on her Latin; memorized French poetry and studied history as much as she could. She pestered her guardian, John Erskine, who had remained in France with her, to tell her all about what was happening in Scotland. He tried to explain about the continuing problems with the English, but Mary could not really grasp any of it. She understood only that her mother was
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