Chapter 4 #2
Margaret reaches into her bag, removes a scroll of paper and hands it to Elspet, expectant.
Elspet feels the thick quality of the paper between her fingers and notes the heavy red seal, embossed with an elaborate crest she assumes must be the Queen’s. But she wouldn’t be able to read a word of it.
She hands it back. ‘I can’t read.’
‘What do you—’ Margaret begins but then stops. ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’
The lady’s cheeks redden but Elspet merely smiles. She knows she has knowledge and skill enough without reading and writing, and doesn’t feel embarrassed. ‘Perhaps you’d better tell me why you’re here.’
‘Indeed,’ Margaret says. ‘We have been sent to find you because the Queen is with child.’ She pauses and looks around.
‘That is happy news.’ Elspet has no particular feelings about the Queen but knows the wedding took place over four years ago and an heir must be overdue by now.
Beatrix continues. ‘The Queen is anxious to maintain a successful pregnancy. She has waited a long time to have a baby and wishes for the best possible care.’
Without thinking, Elspet looks back in the direction of her hoose, thinks of the two children inside and, despite herself, feels sympathy for this Queen so far away.
Margaret speaks now. ‘Forgive us for being direct, but the Queen is desperate. She believes you to be the most powerful spae-wife in Scotland.’
Elspet balks. Her reputation for foresight and healing is known throughout Orkneyjar, but how has the Queen of Scotland heard of her skill?
‘We are here to ask if you will travel to Edinburgh with us and care for her,’ Beatrix says. ‘You will be handsomely rewarded, I can assure you. The Queen would give anything . . .’ She trails off as Elspet begins to shake her head.
There’s a moment of silence as she composes her thoughts.
Every instinct tells her these women are sincere but, by their own admission, they’ve come from the royal court to seek her out.
The same royal court that has presided over the executions of many folk for less than they are asking of her now.
What if this is a trap? Is this how they catch those they then accuse of witchcraft? She must be careful.
‘I’m sorry that you’ve travelled so far for nothing. I sympathise with the Queen. But it’s impossible.’
Margaret and Beatrix exchange glances. They didn’t expect to be refused, at least not immediately. But she waits, resists the temptation to speak more. There’s no need for her to justify herself to these strangers.
Waves quietly lap on the shore; whitemaas call out greetings overhead.
It’s Margaret who speaks first. ‘The Queen does you a great honour by requesting your presence. It is your duty to assist her in her hour of need.’
Elspet pauses, choosing her words carefully. ‘I belong here. And besides . . . Orkneyjar may be remote, but news of the King’s actions towards those he calls witches has reached even our shores. I would be in grave danger using my . . . abilities right under his nose.’
‘We will provide you with a disguise,’ Beatrix says with relish. ‘You will enter court as a lady-in-waiting to the Queen.’
Elspet shakes her head. What foolishness is this? ‘So, you undertake this task without the King’s knowledge?’
Margaret appears affronted, but then her shoulders sink. Elspet knows she’s hit upon the truth. These women are acting against the wishes of the King. It strikes her in that moment how much they must be risking by coming to ask this of her.
‘Don’t worry,’ she says quickly. ‘I have no interest in sharing what you have asked of me with anyone else. Your secret is safe with me.’
‘Thank you for that.’ Beatrix doesn’t deny Elspet is right. ‘But will you not at least consider the request? The Queen suffers so greatly.’
Elspet thinks again of Gillie and Broden. ‘I understand her fears. But I could never leave my family. I’m sorry, I must go now. There’s something urgent I have to do.’ She hopes her words convey finality.
Margaret and Beatrix seem at a loss but Elspet senses these are not women who will give up their cause.
They have travelled a muckle distance to find her.
At that moment, she becomes aware of movement in the trees behind them.
A pair of riders emerge onto the beach on which they are sitting, dressed in blue livery. The Earl’s musketeers have found her.
‘Mistress Elspet Balfour, you are to accompany us to the palace immediately,’ the lead soldier says, fixing her with a glare.
Elspet stands. ‘Why?’ Her voice rises in panic.
‘The Earl has promised to leave me alone.’ For over five years, their uneasy truce has held.
What has caused him to break it now? It cannot be a coincidence that this happens on the same day as two ladies-in-waiting to the Queen of Scotland arrive at her door.
‘Not any more,’ the second soldier says with a laugh. ‘The Earl has decided it’s time to show support for the King’s campaign against witches – and he’s starting with you.’
Ranyie pangs roil and churn fast in her stomach. Elspet can’t speak. This is worse than she could possibly have imagined. After all the years of calm, she’s built a good life, allowed herself to believe she was free from the Earl’s clutches.
She turns, panicked, to the noblewomen next to her, who have risen from their seats. How are these events connected?
Margaret steps forward imperiously. ‘You are the Earl of Orkney’s men?’
The soldiers look at her for the first time. Her clothes may be crumpled but this is clearly a noblewoman, and they’re unsure of how to treat her.
‘Yes,’ the soldier in the lead says slowly.
‘I am Lady Margaret Livingston. I know the Earl well.’
This is news to Elspet. Surely this is another reason why she shouldn’t trust her?
Beatrix looks at her companion with fear. ‘But, Margaret, we don’t want . . .’
Margaret holds up a stern hand to silence Beatrix.
The soldier frowns. ‘I know that name . . .’
‘I expect you do,’ Margaret says. ‘The Earl of Orkney travelled all the way to court after the death of my husband. He wished to make me his bride.’
‘You’re the one with all the money,’ the second soldier blurts out. ‘He changed his mind though – didn’t want to marry you in the end.’
‘No doubt that is what he told you. But I have come to pay him a visit. The Earl will be delighted to see me – and my purse. I do, as you say, have all the money.’
‘What are you doing here then?’ the soldier barks. ‘Why aren’t you at the palace?’
‘My family has old connections with Mistress Balfour,’ Margaret says. ‘I wished to see her before visiting the Earl. You absolutely cannot take her to the palace now, I’m afraid.’
The soldiers look confused. ‘But he ordered—’
‘It is of no matter what the Earl ordered before he knew of my visit,’ Margaret says. ‘He would insist on my wishes being respected. You must return to the palace now, and without Mistress Balfour.’
It is more than Elspet can hope for that the musketeers will do as Margaret bids, but looking at their flustered expressions, she feels a surge of hope.
‘What should we tell him?’ the soldier asks, bemused.
‘Tell him I am on my way to visit him. And that he may do what he wishes with Mistress Balfour once I have finished speaking to her.’
Elspet can barely believe it when the soldiers ride away. God bless Lady Margaret Livingston. Whatever her intentions, she has bought Elspet some time.