12 October 1555
Carlisle
The border is quiet. Norfolk’s scouts report only occasional movement, probing here and there, but no sign of anything more serious. It seems they’re waiting for us to make the next move. Norfolk has put me in touch with a Carlisle man who has family over the border. He’ll slip across tomorrow with my message. Then we wait.
17 October 1555
Carlisle
I’ve had a reply—a cautious acknowledgment from Renaud that he is there. But from what Norfolk’s messenger has reported, I think his command is more than we’d thought. The French are encamped separately, and you know what the Scots are like—fractious and fragmented and they dislike taking orders from anyone, even when it’s in their own best interests.
Renaud will hold his troops across the border. I’m not so sure of the Scots. You must make certain Norfolk is in no doubt of his own orders. If a Scots patrol crosses the border, we must respond with restraint. Renaud will negotiate. We can’t let that be wrecked by a restless soldier or two.
22 October 1555
Carlisle
I shall meet you in Newcastle-on-Tyne the day after tomorrow.
Dominic and the Duke of Norfolk made a quiet entry into Newcastle just before sundown on October 24. They wore no symbolic colours and flew no banners, for they did not want it widely known that they had left Carlisle. Although William’s visit here had been only hastily planned, the streets were swarming with men. Armed men, Dominic realized, his heart sinking at the sight of so much steel this far north. Had William changed his mind about negotiating?
Less than forty miles from the border, Newcastle was protected by massive stone towers built into a city wall. Once through the walls, Dominic and Norfolk still had to gain entrance through the Black Gate, the barbican added by Henry III more than three centuries before. The castle was eighty years older than even that, and only the square Norman keep was still habitable. But what the grim castle lacked in structure it made up for in current guards—it took far longer for two members of the privy council to get inside and be announced to their king than Dominic would have guessed.
When at last he and Norfolk were with William, Dominic said carefully, “Your Majesty, you appear to be raising an army.”
William wore a simply cut doublet of black wool over a linen shirt. His sober clothing was matched by the plainness of the square chamber at the top of the keep, furnished with table, chairs, and an abundance of maps. The last time Dominic had seen William studying maps like that was during the battles in France.
“The army had already been raised, against Northumberland,” William answered. “Might as well put it to use. I must appear to be doing the expected if we are to gain full value from negotiation. Let the French think I’m ready to march across the border—it will add weight to your words.”
Norfolk moved slightly, drawing William’s attention. “You disagree, my Lord Norfolk?” the king challenged.
The duke took his time, weighing his words, and Dominic thought that, despite Norfolk’s youth, he was a man who would approach every choice with clear-eyed dispassion. He would not damn himself with vengeance and sentiment like Northumberland had. “If I were in your position, Your Majesty, I would do the same. But inmyposition, I’m in two minds. I’m born and bred in the North, and I know the Scots as no southerner can. They will be at our throats every moment that they’re not at one anothers’. Force is the only language they understand, and so part of me longs to take this ready army and march into their lands, doubling and tripling the destruction they have wreaked on us for too long.”
“But?”
“But I am also an Englishman, and I do not relish war. If it were the Scots alone, I’d say march and burn and to hell with everything else. But the French are in this, and you need their princess. No one knows that better than I do.”
It was a not-so-subtle reminder that Norfolk was a power broker in the Catholic faction. Dominic kept silent while William, with narrowed eyes and dangerously soft voice, asked, “And what is it, precisely, that you know so well?”
Norfolk was not easily intimidated, although he was also not stupid. He managed both to flatter and to warn. “You are a king men will follow, but feelings run high where religion is concerned. A French Catholic queen is the most politic decision you have ever made. It would be folly to throw that away for revenge.”
“Your orders are unchanged—hold the peace along the border while Dominic slips across and negotiates the withdrawal of French troops. I’m sending a contingent of my personal guards back to Carlisle with you. That will give the spies something to debate about.”
As the door closed behind Norfolk, William sighed and shook his head. “He wants that French marriage. When I throw it off, what do you think he’s likely to do?”
“I think he’s too clever to damn himself in rebellion. But he’s a man capable of anything, so long as he’s persuaded it’s in his best interests.”
William sighed again and ran his hands through his hair, a gesture that made him look young and vulnerable. “You know what to do.”
“Wait two days for Norfolk to return to Carlisle. Then I’ll send Harrington across to Renaud with the meeting place.”
“Where?”
“There’s a cairn at the peak of Windy Gyle in the Cheviots. The border cuts straight through the summit, a mile west of Hexpethgate crossing. It was one of several suggestions by Norfolk, and he assures me it’s lonely enough. I’ll take only Harrington with me, and not even Norfolk will know which spot I have chosen.”
“When?”
“Five days from now.”
