Page 46 of The Changeling
Mary was married the following day at dawn, then summoned her half-brother to appear before the privy council before the end of the week. Lord James failed to appear, and so was declared an outlaw. He raised a rebel army, and Mary began to gather together her own forces, determined to have her way.
‘She’s got the bit between her teeth now,’ Signor Rizzio said.
‘Why shouldna her Grace marry who she wants?’ I said rebelliously. ‘All these men, telling her what to do with her body and her life! They dinna want her to marry because they dinna want to lose their power.’
The queen called me to her rooms a few days later. She was standing before her tall mirror, her arms spread wide as her maids fastened a leather cuirass over her bodice.
‘Caitlín, we ride to war and I wish you to accompany me,’ the queen said. ‘I must have at least one woman with me, and no-one else can ride as well as you.’
‘I’d be honoured, your Grace.’
‘That way I can be assured of something other than army rations to eat.’
‘I’ll be sure to pack my wooden spoon,’ I said, trying to make her smile.
Her grave face warmed. ‘We ride out within the hour. Can you be ready?’
‘Aye, madam.’
She nodded and turned to issue orders to her men. I hurried away, whistling for Carlin who bounded after me, joyous at the thought of a good long run.
I almost laughed when I saw the new king on his horse in the palace courtyard. Mary wore leather breeches under a grey divided gown, a steel helmet on her head and a brace of pistols strapped to her saddle. The king, however, wore a suit of gilded armour over a surcoat trimmed with silver lace, and carried a sword heavy with jewels. He looked a fool. The queen was dismayed, but she had already learned not to criticise her bridegroom.
Henry wanted Mary to grant him the Crown Matrimonial, which would make him of equal rank to the queen, with the same rights and powers as her, and the right to rule if she should die. Mary tried to soothe him, saying it was not within her power to give him such authority, that only Parliament could do so, but he was not satisfied. He began to quarrel with her over every small thing, wanting her to subjugate her will to his.
‘I want my father to be general,’ he said petulantly. ‘Who is this Bothwell fellow?’
‘I’ve told you already,’ Mary replied. ‘Lord Bothwell is Lord High Admiral and the sheriff of Edinburgh. He is the best choice to lead our army, dearest.’
‘Well, I don’t like him. Make my father general.’
‘Your father does not have the experience we need,’ Mary replied, trying to be patient.
‘I am the king! I get to choose.’
‘Henry, I’m sorry, but …’
‘I am the king!’
‘You are my king-consort,’ she said coldly. ‘I am queen by divine right, answerable only to God. You would do well to remember that!’
‘And you are my wife!’ he flashed back.
At that moment, a short, strong-looking man strode through the ranks of men, dressed in a leather doublet and tall boots, a bandolier across his broad chest and a pistol at his belt. ‘Are you ready to ride, your Grace?’ he asked.
‘I am, my lord,’ she answered.
He saw Henry on his white charger and gave a shout of laughter.
‘What do we have here? Is this a fancy dress party? My God, the enemy will see you coming a mile away.’
Henry said in a high, querulous voice, ‘I’ll thank you to have more respect, Bothwell!’
Bothwell bowed with one hand on his heart, saying, ‘Och aye, your Grace, begging your pardon. I did not realise you were serious in your sartorial choices this day.’
Quite a few of the men had trouble hiding their laughter. Mary frowned at Bothwell. Unrepentant, he mounted and drew his horse next to hers. ‘Let’s go and give that upstart brother of yours a good thrashing!’
It was a strange war. Lord James was devious and slippery, escaping every attempt of the queen’s forces to engage. Not once did they actually meet on a battlefield. All we did was march back and forth, and make camp, and practise drills. Summer slipped into autumn. I saw Robbie every day, but the distance between us seemed unbreachable.
