Mary Queen of Scotland & the Isles by Margaret George Read Free Book Online

groom on his large horse, and so they followed him back to the castle. Flamina had already dismounted and was waiting for them to walk back up the steep castle steps with her.
     
    The three girls trudged up the seemingly endless flight of steps to reach the castle gateway.
     
    The Queen Mother was pacing anxiously, and she could barely keep her hands from trembling.
     
    Do not show them your fear, she told herself. If they are safe in here, do not alarm them. Are they coming? Oh, thank God! she sighed as she saw them enter into the gateway.
     
    "My treasure, my sweet!" She fell on Mary and embraced her hysterically, weeping on her hair.
     
    Mary, caught fast in her grip, could hardly breathe. Her mother continued, and her words were puzzling to the little girl. "They stop at nothing ... worse than beasts .. . against God and the True Church .. . evil men .. ."
     
    Lady Fleming, who was Flamina's mother and the children's governess, came over to soothe the Queen and take charge of the little girls. "There are some gowns from the time of James IV in a trunk I have just opened," she said. "Headdresses, too, with gold braid. They are in the little chamber off the Queen's bedchamber. Try them on and see who can look most like her own grandmother." She waved cheerfully, and the girls scampered off.
     
    "Now," she said, taking the Queen's hand, "at least we know they are safe."
     
    Marie de Guise stood shivering in the warm sunshine. "Poor little Bea-ton it is her own relative, the Cardinal, that they have killed! Oh, how can I ever tell her? Yet if I do not, others will. Oh, Janet!" She turned back to Lady Fleming. "They killed him, hung him up like an animal I am afraid!" The words came tumbling out. "Next they will come for us!"
     
    "Nay, nay," said Lady Fleming. "They will not, they cannot. Stirling is the safest fortress in all Scotland. That is why you chose it!"
     
    "But St. Andrews was supposed to be safe. The Cardinal was fortifying it; day and night the workmen were building it up. And yet and yet they got through!" She shuddered.
     
    Lady Fleming raised her head proudly. "Yes, but it was the English he was fortifying it against. He did not suspect his own countrymen. They came disguised as workmen. Who were they?"
     
    "The Protestants radical heretics, revenging the burning of their leader, George Wishart."
     
    "Oh, him!" Fleming waved her hand.
     
    "I am frightened, Janet, frightened. Who would have thought they could exact such revenge?"
     
    "Then call in outside help. Call on your mighty kinsmen in France. Your brother Duc Francois is a mighty soldier and can persuade the King to send ships and arms."
     
    Marie smiled nervously. "Not so, not so. The King in France is very ill; all he cares about is fleeing from his disease. It is not easy to get his ear."
     
    Together they walked over to the ramparts and stared down at the valley below. They could see the beckoning hills leading up into the Highlands, a place where cool breezes swept down all summer. The river lay in its bed like a silver chain in a velvet box. There was no movement of troops, nothing threatening. But then these fanatics did not come in the guise of troops.
     
    Standing on the windy ramparts, Marie realized, suddenly and profoundly, how completely alone she was. Her ally and adviser was gone. There was no one to guide her in her policy, to protect her. She tried not to see in her mind's eye the Cardinal, swinging on the castle wall, hanging by his bedsheets. Or to picture him the way they said he was now, salted like a side of beef and lying in a barrel in the castle's dungeon.
     
    They had let Marion Ogilvy go, after forcing her to witness his murder and mutilation. They did not sport with her themselves; they were much too holy for that, these reforming lairds from life, who had come into the castle in the early morning on a cart, diguised as workmen.
     
    "Who are these lairds?" Janet wondered out loud.
     
    "The report is that the