especial in this of the banquet in the City Chambers. It is due to start within the hour, I think ..."
"Then it will hae to wait. It will do them a' good. They're ower fond o' belly-pandering, these folk." James had retrieved his hawk and hooded it, stroking its feathers gently. "Is my Hippogryph no' a bonny bird?"
"Undoubtedly, Majesty. Shall I go tell the Duke then that Your Highness will not be attending the banquet?"
"No' so fast, Sir Johnnie—no' so fast! I didna say that, did I? I said they'd hae to wait. You'll need to listen mair needfully to my royal words if you're going to serve me, mind. Eh, Steenie? Bishop—your doited bird is after a shelduck, see. Shelduck are nae guid—you should ken that. Even you Englishry'll no' eat shelduck, I warrant!"
"It is a passage-hawk, Sire, and may have fed on them wild. . ."
"And what of the cannon-fire?" John asked, getting desperate.
"Eh? Eh—cannon-fire, did you say? What's this?" He had the royal attention now.
"The salutation, Sire. From the Castle. The Constable is to fire cannon there, in your honour."
"When? When is this, man?"
"It was to be forenoon, Sire, I think. About now ..."
"Sakes—they'll no' fire them and me no' there, will they? This Constable man—he canna dae that!"
"I do not know. If it is but a salutation to mark Your Majesty's return to your Scots capital city, it could be fired at any time, for all would hear it. .."
"Hech, hech—that would be a wicked waste! He'll no' hae done it? Already? Would we hear it, here?"
"Oh, I think so. With the Castle set so high. It ca - not be more than two miles."
"Aye. Then off wi' you, John Stewart. To Edinburgh Castle. Tell yon Constable, whoever he may be, that he's no' to fire a si ngle cannon until I come. I’ll f ire thae cannon! You have it? You go tell him."
"Now, Sire? Before I go back to Holyrood?"
"Aye, now. Instanter. In case the fool starts up. Nae time to lose."
"But—what of the banquet?"
"Deil tak their banquet! It can wait. Off wi' you."
"Yes, Sire. I am to tell the Constable to wait until you come? When will that be?"
"Hoo can I ken that? So soon as I can get there, man. What think you?"
"Before the banquet. . . ?"
"Guidsakes—hud your wheesht aboot this banquet! What's one banquet mair or less?"
"It is just that the Duke said I was to find out, Your Majesty. If Your Majesty wishes to go to it ..."
"My wishes are that there is to be nae cannon-fire until I come. See you to it—and nae mair havering aboot. Go, John Stewart—or you'll no' be knight for muckle longer, I promise you!"
John bowed from the saddle and reined round his borrowed horse.
He rode, fast, round the south-western flanks of Arthur's Seat, in past the hospice and hamlet of St Leonards, with the suicides' graveyard, and through the Greyfriars Port into the city. Thereafter, down Candlemaker Row, up the West Bow again, scene of yesterday's heroics, and into the Lawnmarket. Thereafter it was merely a straight canter up the causeway to the castle gatehouse and drawbridge.
Today the bridge was down and John was able to ride in unchallenged, a highly unusual state of affairs. He found the various wards and terraced-courts of the great fortress on the crest of the rock thronged with folk, mostly looking bemused and worried. None asked a single young horseman what he was about.
He rode up to the Constable's quarters in one of the topmost towers, to be dismissed briefly with the information that that luminary was not there, and whereabouts unknown. Deciding that the actual battery, where the main armament of cannon were ranged, high above the gatehouse and moat, to protect the only approach not guarded by precipices, was the likeliest place, in the circumstances, he hurried thither. This great semi-circular fortification, built forty years earlier, had no fewer than fourteen cannon-ports, pointing to east, north-east and south-east, and was known as the Half Moon Battery. Here, although there were plenty of
"Then it will hae to wait. It will do them a' good. They're ower fond o' belly-pandering, these folk." James had retrieved his hawk and hooded it, stroking its feathers gently. "Is my Hippogryph no' a bonny bird?"
"Undoubtedly, Majesty. Shall I go tell the Duke then that Your Highness will not be attending the banquet?"
"No' so fast, Sir Johnnie—no' so fast! I didna say that, did I? I said they'd hae to wait. You'll need to listen mair needfully to my royal words if you're going to serve me, mind. Eh, Steenie? Bishop—your doited bird is after a shelduck, see. Shelduck are nae guid—you should ken that. Even you Englishry'll no' eat shelduck, I warrant!"
"It is a passage-hawk, Sire, and may have fed on them wild. . ."
"And what of the cannon-fire?" John asked, getting desperate.
"Eh? Eh—cannon-fire, did you say? What's this?" He had the royal attention now.
"The salutation, Sire. From the Castle. The Constable is to fire cannon there, in your honour."
"When? When is this, man?"
"It was to be forenoon, Sire, I think. About now ..."
"Sakes—they'll no' fire them and me no' there, will they? This Constable man—he canna dae that!"
"I do not know. If it is but a salutation to mark Your Majesty's return to your Scots capital city, it could be fired at any time, for all would hear it. .."
"Hech, hech—that would be a wicked waste! He'll no' hae done it? Already? Would we hear it, here?"
"Oh, I think so. With the Castle set so high. It ca - not be more than two miles."
"Aye. Then off wi' you, John Stewart. To Edinburgh Castle. Tell yon Constable, whoever he may be, that he's no' to fire a si ngle cannon until I come. I’ll f ire thae cannon! You have it? You go tell him."
"Now, Sire? Before I go back to Holyrood?"
"Aye, now. Instanter. In case the fool starts up. Nae time to lose."
"But—what of the banquet?"
"Deil tak their banquet! It can wait. Off wi' you."
"Yes, Sire. I am to tell the Constable to wait until you come? When will that be?"
"Hoo can I ken that? So soon as I can get there, man. What think you?"
"Before the banquet. . . ?"
"Guidsakes—hud your wheesht aboot this banquet! What's one banquet mair or less?"
"It is just that the Duke said I was to find out, Your Majesty. If Your Majesty wishes to go to it ..."
"My wishes are that there is to be nae cannon-fire until I come. See you to it—and nae mair havering aboot. Go, John Stewart—or you'll no' be knight for muckle longer, I promise you!"
John bowed from the saddle and reined round his borrowed horse.
He rode, fast, round the south-western flanks of Arthur's Seat, in past the hospice and hamlet of St Leonards, with the suicides' graveyard, and through the Greyfriars Port into the city. Thereafter, down Candlemaker Row, up the West Bow again, scene of yesterday's heroics, and into the Lawnmarket. Thereafter it was merely a straight canter up the causeway to the castle gatehouse and drawbridge.
Today the bridge was down and John was able to ride in unchallenged, a highly unusual state of affairs. He found the various wards and terraced-courts of the great fortress on the crest of the rock thronged with folk, mostly looking bemused and worried. None asked a single young horseman what he was about.
He rode up to the Constable's quarters in one of the topmost towers, to be dismissed briefly with the information that that luminary was not there, and whereabouts unknown. Deciding that the actual battery, where the main armament of cannon were ranged, high above the gatehouse and moat, to protect the only approach not guarded by precipices, was the likeliest place, in the circumstances, he hurried thither. This great semi-circular fortification, built forty years earlier, had no fewer than fourteen cannon-ports, pointing to east, north-east and south-east, and was known as the Half Moon Battery. Here, although there were plenty of
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