Part 2 (1/2)

A man pa.s.sing with a bonnetful of eggs jerked his head across the open yard and grinned, showing two sets of bereaved gums. ”Over yonder, Johnnie..

Turkey Mat, professional soldier and veteran of Mohacs, Rhodes and Belgrade, sat against an upturned barrel, hauling off his boots and bellowing orders. Forty and liverish, he had done nothing for his looks by growing a curled black beard in the a.s.syrian style. The men in the yard admired Turkey.

Johnnie Bulb approached gently. ”Man, you've a fire there you could lead the Children of Israel with..

Turkey Mat was emptying river sand from one boot. ”Hey, Johnnie! No harm in a lowe with the farm bodies at home.” And as Bulb wordlessly turned to survey the planks nailed over doors and windows: ”That's the farmer, not us. He's got six la.s.sies and says he pays us for protection, no' for stud fees. . . . We're moving on tomorrow anyway; and I hope to G.o.d it's to the Tower: my stomach's declared war on my elbow. Have you brought the dose?.

The gypsy brooded. ”What d'you suppose? I've had it a fortnight. It's begun to grow whiskers like your own. What you want is a cross between an apothecary and a bloodhound..

Flinging down the other boot, Turkey swore. ”There's been a war! Do they no' tell you anything in these parts?.

Johnnie grinned, dropping to the ground beside him. ”I thought you went east?.

”So we did. I never saw so many weel-kent faces all in the one place; the most of them chowed off and in no state to give the sort of snash you get from hail of them when they're upright. It was better,” said Matthew, ”than a front seat at the Widdy-Hill the day after the a.s.sizes..

”And profitable?.

”Oh, aye.” A smile winked in Turkey Mat's beard. ”There was Arran, biting his nails to the elbows at Musselburgh, wanting men and food and powder and intelligence (and wanting the last morethan most); and Protector Somerset coming north hung over with booty and Wee gifts from the Lothian lairds, with a trail of tumble-down castles behind him . . . man, the moneybags were fleeing here and yon like c.o.c.kroaches on a biscuit. Mind, that was last week,” he added with belated caution, watching Bulb bounce a small leather bag in one hand.

”Twelve crowns,” said Johnnie agreeably.

”Twelve crowns! Twelve crowns for a teazle o' Tay sand and chopped henbane and a week's rakings from the doocote! It's robbery!.

Nevertheless the transaction was completed, the gypsy derisive. ”What's money to Lymond's men? I hear Governor Arran's thinking of calling him in to finance the next expedition.” He waited a moment, then added lightly, ”And I hear you got yourselves a new prize up-by into the bargain?.

Turkey registered surprise. ”Not us. We fell in with an English messenger with a dispatch from the Protector to his commander at Annan; but Lymond wouldn't touch him..

Bulb raised an eyebrow. ”So the Master's money is on England, is it? Now that, Matthew, is interesting..

The other shrugged and bawled an order across the yard. ”G.o.d knows; but he sent Jess's Joe after to make sure the message reached Annan safely. Did you want him? He'll be back directly. He turned off with Dandy-puff for a minute just before we came in..

Bulb showed his teeth. ”And in drink, maybe? It would be nice to have him civil, for once..

There was no chance to comment. As he spoke, three riders pa.s.sed through the gate and drew rein: two were the Master of Culter and the man Dandy-puff, while the third was a stranger, a young man, tied to his horse and wild about it. Johunie Bulb's smile widened. ”h.e.l.l's h.e.l.l again: the de'il's back..

Francis Crawford of Lymond, Master of Culter, was neat as a pin and stone sober. He dismounted, emitting a feu de joie of explicit orders: the prisoner was unhorsed and unbound, the animals led away, and the muddle in the yard cut up to shape instantly. ”G.o.d!” said Matthew in simple admiration. ”He's got a tongue on him like a thorn tree.” And they watched him approach, the stranger trailing sulkily behind.

As at the sack of his mother's home, Lymond was lavishly dressed. The knowledgeable gypsy eyes scanned the dairy-maid skin, thegilded hair, the long hands, jewelled to display their beauty while the Master, serenely smiling, returned the compliment under relaxed lids.

”Johunie, my night-black familiar. Civility's nearly as dull as sobriety and ii cannot-will not-be labelled dull. I have peper and piones, and a pound of garlik; a ferthing-worth of fenel-seed for fasting dayes, but dullness have I none: nor am I overfond of being discussed, my Johnnie..

”You've quick ears, Lymond..

”But yours, like Midas whispering in the hole, are closer to the ground. . . . What do you think of our new recruit?.

If the gypsy found the question surprising, or the reference offensive which it undoubtedly was, he showed nothing of it, but simply turned and bent an admiring glance on the tall young figure behind Lymond.

”My, my. 1-le's a bonny blossom to be let away from his nurse..

The stranger flushed. He was a graceful creature, with fair skin and a thatch of carroty curls. His clothes, of a thoroughiy expen~ve and unostentatious kind, were a credit to tailor and souter: his scabbard and accoutrements were inlaid and ornamented with a little more brie than the rule.

”-And his fancy hat!” breathed Matthew in awe.

The newcomer addressed Lymond with dignity. ”I must confess to disappointment. Do you mete out this kind of treatment to every gentleman who offers you his sword?.

”Big words, too!.

Turkey Mat was silenced by the Master's hand. Lymond, his back to the stone dike at one end of the yard, crossed his legs gently before him and instantly the yard, led by curiosity and its hope of a roughhouse, deployed itself. Turkey and Bulb, grinning, ranged themselves on either side of the Master. The young man, stranded perforce in an open circle, stood his ground.

”Oh, Marigold!” Lymond spoke plaintively. ”A silken tongue, a heart of cruelty. Don't berate us. We're only poor scoundrels-vagabonds-sc.r.a.ps of society; unlettered and untaught. Besides, we didn't believe you..

”Well, you can believe me now,” said the young man belligerently. ”I didn't ride all the way from-all this way to find you just to pa.s.s a dull Tuesday. I'm taken to be a fair fighting man. I'm prepared to join you; and I'd guess you need all the swords you can get. Unless you're overnervous, of course..

”Terror,” said Lymond, ”is our daily bread in the Wuthenheer. Weeat it, we live by it and we disseminate it; and not only between Christmas and Epiphany: there is no close season for fright. So you want to join us. Shall I take you? Mat, my friend, awful and stern, strong and corpulent-what do you say?.

Turkey was in no doubt. ”l'd want to know a good bit more about the laddie, sir, before I had him next me with a knife..

”Oh,” said Lymond, ”would you? And what about you, Johnnie?” Johnnie Bulb regarded his fingers. ”If I were yourself, I would perhaps give him his head. He looks a meek enough child..

”So did Heliogabalus at an early age,” said Lymond. ”And Attila and Torqueinada and Nero and the man who invented the boot. The only thing they had in common was a cherubic adolescence. And red hair, of course, makes it worse..

He considered, while the boy watched him steadily; then said, ”Infant, I can't resist it. I'm going to put you to the proof; and if you impress us with your worth, then quicquid libet, licet; as was remarked on another, unsavoury occasion. Are you willing to be wooed, sweet Marigold?.

Redhead was not charmed. ”I'm willing to give you reasonable proof of my talents, of course..

”Proof of your talents! . . . Oh, little Peg-a-Ramsey, we are going to do well together. Come along then. Gif thou should sing well ever in thy life, here is in fay the time, and eke the s.p.a.ce. Your name?.

”You can call me Will..

”-Sir,” said Lymond affectionately. ”Surname and parentage?.

”My own affair.” A rustle among the onlookers gave credit to this piece of bravura; Lymond was undisturbed. ”Never fear. We're all runts and b.a.s.t.a.r.ds of one sort or another. Do you swim? Hunt? Wrestle? I see. Can you use a crossbow? Your longest shot? Can you count? Read and write? Ab, the sting of sarcasm- Have we a scholar here? Then produce us a specimen,” said Lymond. ”What about some modest quatrains? Frae vulgar prose to flowand Latin. Deafen us, enchant us, educate us, boy..

There was a pause. The examinee, dazed by mental gymnastics at top speed, at first boggled. Then he had a pleasing idea. Lowering his lashes over a malicious sparkle he recited obligingly.

”Volavit volucer sine plumisSedit in arbore sine louisVenit h.o.m.o absque mani busFlat incomprehension informed every face. He halted.

There was an uneasy and deferential pause. Then Lymond gave a short laugh and capped him in German:un Ireet den Vogel jedderlosVan den Boem blattlos”You appear,” said the Master, ”to have left your studies at a very tender age? Don't trouble to explain: tell me this instead. What about Pharaoh's chickens appealed to you? Why did you decide to join me?.

”Why . . . ?” repeated Redhead, needing time to think.

”Word of three letters,” said Lymond. ”Come along, for G.o.d's sake: no need to let me have it all my own way. What was it? Rape, incest, theft, treason, arson, ~vetting the bed at night . .

Or burning my mother alive,” said the other sarcastically.

”Oh, be original at least.” The Master was undisturbed. ”Why are you here?.

Silence. Then the boy said slowly, ”Because I admire you..

An appreciative t.i.tter ran round the audience. ”You shock me,” said Lymond. ”Explain, please..