The rebel heart

Cameron chose that moment to join them. Before he could offer the time of day, and without dismissing Mannion or Jane, Gresham spoke, 'You're clearly up to your neck in the intrigue of both Courts. You're clearly trusted by King James. It was quite clear he only saw me because of your intervention and that he didn't actually want to come, so you must have serious credibility with him.'

Cameron waved a hand, neither confirming nor denying.

'And I remember where I saw you before. In winter. In the English Court. You were hanging round at the back. I only remember you because you looked so odd in your drab clothes. I only caught a glimpse of you. But you walk in a peculiar manner, slightly sideways, like a crab. You did it as you got off the horse on the quayside. What were you doing in Elizabeth's Court?'

'Saving her life, as it happens,' said Cameron.

'How so?'

Cameron sighed, 'in front of these?' he asked disparagingly, motioning to Mannion and Jane.

'It's the price of your passage,' said Gresham. 'Unless you want to swim home.'

'I suppose you have to know,' Cameron eventually replied, after a good few seconds when he looked to be seriously considering the swim. 'James received a tip-off that there was going to be an assassination attempt on the Queen's life. All we knew was that the assassin was Scottish, an exile who no one had seen for three or four years. It was his father who tipped us off, though God knows how he knew. Scottish families work like no other. James sent me down to the Court. Under cover of doing work for the Earl of Northumberland. The Earl agreed without knowing why. The Earls of Northumberland and the Kings of Scotland have been trading like this since time began.'

'To stop the assassination? Those were your instructions?'

Cameron looked uncomfortable. The motion of the boat was rising and falling in the easy swell, now they had cleared Leith, but Cameron's discomfort had nothing to do with the sea.

'Well, no, as it happened. My instructions were simply to identify the boy, find out who he was working for, if the plot was real.'

'And did you?'

'Identify him? Yes, though he was surprisingly well buried. Find out if the plot was real? There was reason to believe so. The boy was living above his means, had purchased two very fine pistols and so on. As for finding out who he was working for, no. That was our failure.'

'And your master would have let him do his work?' Gresham asked.

'Aye, well… that was left rather open.'

'It would be, wouldn't it? James must be desperate for the throne of England. Elizabeth's death might be seen as simply speeding up an event that is going to happen anyway.'

'If you mean that the relative poverty of our country and the perceived wealth and splendour of England has given many of our noble families a gleam in their eye that outshines the star at the nativity, yes. And James himself would deeply love to leave the intrigue — and, aye, the threat to his own life — behind him.' Cameron paused for a moment. 'That was why I had to think long and hard before I stopped the man. In the act, as it happens.'

'You stopped him?' said Gresham, fascinated.

'We'd actually been given a date for the attempt. Except it was a week later than when the fool actually tried it. At Court. Simple, really. He planned to move forward at the start of the procession, when Elizabeth first marched from her bed chamber through the antechamber, fire a pistol at her head from the closest range and presumably back that up with a dagger. I'd been watching him for a week, and sensed something was different in him.'

'Why was there no scandal?' asked Gresham incredulously. 'Why didn't we hear about this?'

'Luck, mainly,' said Cameron. 'I grabbed him at the back of the crowd, as he was making to break through, tumbled him through an arras and an open door. I hadn't realised how much all eyes are on the Queen at moments like that. Anyway, we got away with it. Only a few guards saw the disturbance, and they were easily settled.' 'And the assassin?'

'Dead, unfortunately. He fought like the Devil, and it was him or me. Which meant we never did find out who he was working for.' 'So why did you decide to stop him?'

Cameron sighed. 'It was damned difficult. For all I knew James wanted her dead. But the truth was, the boy was Scottish. I can't help but believe that if he'd been paid by the Scots I'd have heard somehow. The father didn't know who the boy was working for, just knew he was planning to do something dreadful in England and had said goodbye to them all in a letter. He only wanted the boy's life saved. Which we failed in as well.'

Gresham said, 'But even if the boy wasn't working for the Scots no one would believe it. James would have been seen as setting up the murder, and the effect might have been to rule him out of the succession. So you decided that your King's chances of becoming King of England would actually be lessened if the murder succeeded, and so stopped it.'

'Summed up like a professional!' said Cameron. 'And then I decided that we might as well get as much advantage from the situation as possible, and told Cecil, having disposed of the body. I told him the boy was Scottish, told him how we'd heard, and was very forcible in my denial that James had any part of it. He believed me, I think. After all, the assassination would have turned people against James. Cecil told your Queen. I suspect that letter was her thanks. And possibly even a promise.'

'The promise of a throne?'

'It seems likely. You see, I'm a cynic. Most Scots are, and if you look at our history you'll see why. I think Elizabeth hates James. I think she wants him as the next King to throw her reign into glory. I think she's starting to hate her country for letting her die, and making James her heir she sees, in a perverted way, as her revenge.'

'My, my,' said Gresham.*You are cynical, aren't you?'

'All too likely to be bloody true, though,' said Mannion. 'She's always been too much of a bloody woman. Can't make her mind up, changes it all the time when she does. It'd been all right if she'd had babies. Babies makes women stop being selfish.'

Mannion's summary of half of humanity was at least clear and simple.

'So that's why you like giving women babies so much?' asked Gresham. 'You see it as your social duty to help out womenkind?'

'Well,' said Mannion, 'you upper-class bastards — beggin' your pardon — spend enough time ensuring the line doesn't die out. You can't deny the same privilege to the working classes.'

There was a slight expression of confusion on Cameron's face. He had not heard too many interchanges between Mannion and his master before, and clearly had much to learn.

'All of which leaves the interesting question of who it was tried to kill the Queen,' said Gresham. 'The Pope? Spaniards?'

'They've tried before,' said Mannion glumly. It was common knowledge in the Court that King Philip of Spain had tried up to ten times to have the Queen killed.

'Or one of the English factions wanting to put a puppet Queen on the throne?' Gresham continued.

'Unfortunately for my credibility, you miss one other candidate out,' said Cameron. 'The Scots.'

'But you said it would be political suicide for the Scots to try and assassinate Elizabeth now,' said Gresham.

'Political suicide is what my kindred have been best at these past five hundred years,' said Cameron. 'We have nobles who can't think beyond the end of their bonnets, are even stupid enough not to see the consequences if a Scotsman murders the Queen. And some with memories of the last time one Queen murdered another. A Scottish Queen.'

'You were at Court,' said Gresham. 'Someone must have authorised that. Someone like the Queen.'

'I believe she knew of my presence. Unofficially,' said Cameron, sniffing.