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

assassins themselves numbered some sixteen or so," said Marie, who had questioned the messenger more closely than had the shocked governess. "But others are preparing to join them. They mean to hold the castle for themselves."
     
    "What? For themselves? What for?"
     
    "They are calling themselves the Castilians and sending to England for help."
     
    "Ah." Now it was clearer than ever. "This is all part of the attack on Scotland that never ceases from England. They are determined to swallow us up! Ever since the Scots repudiated the marriage contract, the English have been trying to force a new one upon us by military means," Lady Fleming said.
     
    At the same time, Marie realized with a sickening feeling, that meant they would never stop. And Scotland had no power to withstand them for much longer, if they were that determined.
     
    That night, as Marie de Guise made ready for sleep a sleep she knew would not come she allowed her attendant of the bedchamber to brush her hair, which had grown long.
     
    Brush, brush .. . the rhythm was soothing, as it began at her scalp and drew itself all the way to the ends, making her scalp tingle. The fire and the candles cast long, jumping shadows on the wall, shadows that obliterated the pretty coloured pictures of gods and goddesses, knights and ladies, on the tapestries imported from a safe, ordered place like Flanders.
     
    Just as the darkness and shadows of Scotland obliterate all that's sustaining, she thought, her mind set free and drifting by the brush .. . brush .. . brush caresses. It is a land at the end of the earth, where men turn into something else. All of Scotland is like this castle of Stirling ancient and stained with blood, with just a light cover of diverting statues, decorations, and distractions like the white peacocks walking the palace grounds around the artificial fishponds. They don't mean anything, they just take one's eyes off those misty mountains in the distance, or the enemies creeping up the Forth valley.
     
    Half the nobility seem to dabble in with craft she mused. They say Lord James's mother, Lady Douglas, is a witch, and used her spells to bind the King to her, and Patrick, third Lord Ruthven, one of Mary's own guardians appointed by Parliament, is said to be a warlock himself. The dark powers seem so close here.
     
    "That is enough, Meg," said Marie. Her scalp was beginning to hurt from the brushing. "I will take my rest now."
     
    "As you wish, Madam." Meg brought out the lace bed-cap the Queen Mother always wore. She fastened it on her head and then pulled back the bed curtains.
     
    But there is witchcraft in France, too, Marie thought, as she lay in bed. The Italian Woman, Catherine de Medicis my brothers tell me she consults with wizards and necromancers, with anyone who can cure her barrenness. She would even deal with Satan himself perhaps even has, for at long last, after ten years, she and Henri Valois have a son, Francois. He was born a year after my own Mary, most inauspiciously, during an eclipse of the sun. Any fool knows this is a bad omen, the worst possible for what does an eclipse portend but just that, an eclipse of the person? but they attempted to cover it up by designing an heraldic badge for the child, showing a sun and moon and the bold motto: "Between these I issued." Since then the Italian Woman has had a daughter, Elisabeth, and is pregnant again. The devil keeps his bargain. In his own way he is a being of integrity, so those who deal with him say.
     
    Marie turned over and settled herself more comfortably. She was warmer now; she removed the heavy top cover.
     
    They said little Francois was sickly, but he seemed to be growing stronger. Perhaps he was "eclipsed" most at his birth perhaps that is all the omen meant, she thought. Perhaps he will live to be an answer to my Mary.. .. Oh, if only the Cardinal could help me! Oh, David!
     
    With no one to hear, she wept for her only friend, her only