AN: And we are back! I am so glad to see the number of Reign fics growing every day on the site, especially the Mash fics, can't help but love them. This chapter will find Mary back in her homeland and boy, is there trouble to be had. I hope you enjoy it :D
I do not own Reign.
Bash watched Mary as she sat in deep reflection, staring out her carriage window as she so often does when in said state. For the whole of the journey to Scotland, about two days in entirety, she had become significantly less vocal in her thoughts even when the several advisors that accompanied their journey for periods at a time were not present. He wondered if it was simply that she had much to consider on the choices she faced in Scotland, or if perhaps something had been said between the English and Scottish queens on the matter of having been found out during the several hours the women took to themselves before their departure, and perhaps this be the reason for her withdrawal. But as of yet he had seen nothing to indicate anything whichever way within Mary other than preoccupation.
He understood. After all, she did have many things that had required much of her attention along their journey, so he had let the matter of being found rest at that and left her to her consideration. But he was becoming concerned that she was not keen on discussion of any matter at the moment.
He wished only to lighten her burden in any way possible.
Perhaps if so much business had not needed to be done along the journey to Scotland she would have had time to gather all her composure. Perhaps had they not have had Robert in transport for his execution in tow she would have had one less matter on her mind. Perhaps if Thomas had come too, instead of being sent to France to speak on her behalf, he could look to the older man for advice. But alas, he would have to forge ahead on his own and try to bring her back to life through conversation.
"Mary, we passed the boarders an hour ago. You have yet to notice."
"I noticed." She protested but with no emotion, still looking out at the overcast clouds of her homeland. "I have simply made no comment."
"I see."
Mary turned at the tone of his voice. It held something between disappointment and worry. She knew she was uncharacteristically quiet at the moment but she wished to spare him the weight of her many concerns. Perhaps in doing so she only made him all the more liable to worry. "I apologize. I seem to have my mind overcome with all that has happened."
He was encouraged in her manner, that she be more open to him now than at any moment in the last two days, since Mary Tudor had walked in on their embrace. "Did something happen during your time with the English Mary? Since she had stolen you away before we left court you have seemed inordinately preoccupied."
Mary wondered how it was that she was not supposed to be so. In the last hours of her time at court, after Bash had been sent to arrange the journey to Scotland and Thomas instructed on how to speak for her at French court where he was to return, Mary Stuart and Mary Tudor spent the remaining hours of their time alone.
Much had indeed occurred. It was as if she had been given an entire lifetime's education in how to be a queen in the matter of mere hours. Many topics were discussed. From strategy in Scotland to her pending marriage with Francis, the elder Mary held an opinion and advice on all.
One such topic in particular was close to Mary's heart and it brought her great conflict. She could sum it up in a word: Bash. That man, the man across from her in their carriage, the man for whom she would be most likely to risk it all, she sat in wonder of him. He, so carefree. He, so skilled, intelligent and aware. He, so very much the man she loved.
Yes, Mary Tudor had much to say on him.
"Mary?" Bash's voice recalled her to the present, humor striving to overcome worry. "I seem to have lost you again."
She sighed deeply, wondering what to make of all that the other queen had made of her situation. How was it that the elder queen could see the love she felt for Bash so plainly? Aside from walking in on their embrace, Mary Tudor could see something more, something deeply buried. She could see the very nature of Bash's effect upon the queen. He freed her, made her whole, made her the capable woman that the English court had come to admire. She would be lost without him.
That thought of losing him, of not being able to find another option, an option which could allow her to have him made her stomach ache and mind whirl.
She had to put it out of her mind. "It is nothing."
"Mary." He warned, he was not to give up on her, not when he had come to close to learning what be on her mind. He was unused to being left in the dark on her thoughts. She was unreadable lately, and it made him uneasy. "Share."
"It is only-" Here she stopped mid-sentence as the carriage came to a halt. "What is the matter?" She looked to Bash who held no answer but was relieved when the carriage door opened and her two advisors, that had been in her company for this final leg of the journey over the last five hours, climbed in to visit on their business. She glad to see them for she had worried that perhaps they were to be attacked until they had come to sit opposite she and Bash.
"We have urgent news, your grace." Dùghlas began as he pulled out a map and set it upon his lap, borrowing space from Bash who sat across from him. "We have been informed of a possible attack upon a village just two miles from here, the situation appears dire."
Mary's heart felt as if it could not beat in that moment. "Tell me what has happened."
Suddenly, she was thankful that her last few hours at English court had contained so much business for she doubted she would feel prepared otherwise. Mary Tudor had insisted that she no longer focus on what her mother had her do, that be in finding a well armed husband, and rather on learning to rule and conduct her military in her own right. It was a matter on which Bash fully agreed and in his echoing of the sentiment, loudly, the two had become endeared to one another.
So, Mary had accepted the offer of so many advisors, each coming to her for a period of the journey at a time, to prepare her for the challenges she would meet as she crossed into her boarders.
She had learned of many things. The main threat of the uprising was that there existed an organized effort whose armies were to try and occupy several villages along the eastern coast. However, her spies into the faction have informed them that after this occupation, where rebel troops shall take quarter in said villages, that many would then continue on towards Edinburgh, where they wish to overrun Mary's mother and court and force the decision to allow the occupied areas to succeed from the crown.
It was something that she must stop and so, she was thankful that she had had so many advisors to prepare her for it appeared now she would not have time to make it to the outpost as she had expected, no time to first consult her generals before making a decision. Her responsibilities were rapidly upon her.
"As we had discussed previously, Kirkliston and Linlithgow were the two villages were we expect our highest innocent casualty counts once you order the strike against them."
They had indeed discussed this. Mary knew the strategic value of suppressing and eradicating the active and armed protestant rebels taking quarter in these villages and several others. It would prove essential in stemming the movement, communication and successes of the troops within the uprising. The downside, and one she had not taken lightly was that there was significant loss of innocent life to be expected.
She had asked for a report on the numbers estimated from each village before she ordered the first strike, and that men be dispatched to Kirkliston and Linlithgow, two strategic villages near Edinburgh, to try to evacuate the innocents of the population. These names being mentioned now gave her a horrible feeling of dread. "Has there been word of movement into one of these villages?"
Latharn shook his head in dismay. "On the contrary, no word at all has been sent back to us from Linlithgow. A company had been sent as you ordered but with no word we suspect something has run afoul within the village."
Mary could feel a lump which she could not swallow come to take its claim in her throat. She had something personal, something she wanted to protect in Linlithgow. Hearing that no word had come, in her mind, spoke of the worst case scenario. Perhaps one of her previous advisors had been correct in assuming the rebels' strategy and the village had already been overcome with their forces. It was her duty to find out and equally her duty to protect her innocent citizens. "We must take our forces there, now."
Latharn's head lashed to his queen. "Surely you do not suggest we, ourselves go? We can send out for another force along our way to the outpost. We are expected by nightfall."
Bash wanted to roll his eyes at the advisor, so large on strategy but not keen on getting messy himself. "Mary, I agree with your assessment. As much as I wish to avoid seeing you in the middle of a conflict area our convoy is an entire battalion of men. We are closest, in large enough number, to assist."
Mary looked to him in appreciation. Dùghlas and Latharn had thus far showed a deep lack of both faith in her ability to lead as well as a distinct display of cowardice, particularly in the case of Latharn. She was glad to have Bash at her side, yet again. "We shall off to Linlithgow. Latharn, tell the men to prepare for battle, and let us be gone within the quarter hour. Dùghlas, I wish a moment."
Latharn left the carriage feeling none too pleased which was apparent in his countenance and manner. Once he had cleared of his space and Mary could hear him begin giving orders to the men accompanying their convoy, she set about to continue her business. "While we await the start of our venture I wish to learn more of the rogue army that had been made mention of earlier by letter. What have we learned of it?"
"Your grace needn't worry on that account. When all pertinent information is gained I shall let you know of it."
Mary's eyebrow rose in incense at her subject's continued attempts at dissuading her from topics which might make her 'worrisome'. "Answer my question." Her tone held no patience and she could see the effect it was beginning to have upon her subject.
"Very well, your grace." He could tell his queen was near to losing her temper. "There is much more we do not know than do, I am afraid. What we do know is that this rogue army is moving about with the sole mission of finding you." He found his next words with care. "We believe their intent is on capturing you and possibly on assassination."
Bash found himself with an astonished gaze as he looked upon Mary's countryman. "And you did not find this to be pertinent information?" The glare he came to direct the man's way made clear of not only his displeasure but of a threat implied. Dùghlas would answer to him if something were to happen to his queen, he made sure the man understood that very simple fact with only the warning in his gaze. He would not have her authority questioned if he could prevent it, and prevent it he was most certainly capable of doing.
Dùghlas attempted to keep himself on an even keel, for the first time in many years feeling intimidated by another. Whatever of the rumored affections between the French bastard and the queen be true he knew only this, he would not come to question it or his queen again anytime soon. "I ask forgiveness, your grace."
Mary waved the matter off, she had much more to be concerned on at the moment. "I assume their reasons be political?"
Dùghlas nodded, aware he was not forgiven but only put out of thought for the time being. "There is much to the politics of this act, for if you die, and with the expectation that Mary Tudor is about to as well, the Protestants believe the crown of Scotland would be in dispute and they wish to take opportunity and make an attempt at ceasing power."
Mary tried for breath, finding almost none. She knew this uprising might turn against her, she had been warned on the journey here as well as within her own heart. But confirmation that men of her own country wanted to see her death was a prospect she had been none too eager to face. "I understand." She sighed out, looking upon the map being laid over her and Bash's laps. "And we know not what lord might be behind the plot?"
"We do not." Dùghlas returned. "We know only that your grace must not be escorted by less than a full compayn from here on out. The more men, the better. This is why we added more men shortly before crossing the border. You are in grave danger, you must understand."
Had it not been for Bash taking her hand below the map which rest upon them she might not have been able to find the few calming breaths necessary to retain her composure. "You will find I am quite used to my life being the subject of plots against it." She stated in plain fact before her tone changed to direct with the encouraging squeeze of her friend's hand. "Very well then. Now that I am fully informed I ask that you make preparations for our transfer to horseback if there be a battle to be had. I will not be left flat footed."
"We are still to Linlithgow?"
She handed the map back to Dùghlas after having folded it neatly. "What use would I be as a queen if I allowed fear of my head to paralyze my neck? Go. See to it that the men are fully prepared for the venture. With two forces about we must ensure that we do our duty to prepare them wisely. I have much to consider in the mean time."
The advisor knew when he was being dismissed and left the carriage, acutely aware that the French bastard was not included in the order to leave the queen at peace.
Bash waited until Dùghlas and the others coming to meet him were fully out of view before sliding closer to Mary, so that their knees touched, and took her hand, tracing small, comforting circles into her palms. "You worry for your men."
"I worry for many things." Her eyes fell closed, trying to focus on only his ministrations. "My men, my country, that entire village, you."
Bash's eyes darted to her face at the last part but he saw nothing but her trying to calm with closed eyes. She might not even know what it is she had come to say. "As I worry for you."
Mary's eyes fluttered open at the gentleness, the rawness of his statement. If it were another time, a time more special and less fraught she might just simply tell him how she felt. But she knew she shouldn't, Mary Tudor had been correct in her warning to not give hope to the man when she could not know what could be done of their situation. So, she turned the conversation, yet again. "Do you intend to ride with me if we do indeed go to battle?"
"Of course." He replied with little thought. None was needed. "I would not be doing my duty as protector and counsel if I were to abandon you at moments of peril, would I?"
Mary sat a moment in examination as the carriage and convoy began to move again, turning west toward Linlithgow. "It is not your duty to see me into battle. France's protection was extended to my travel to England. You have done what is your obligation."
Bash found an uncomfortable lump-in-throat of his own. "If you wish me to return to France, I will on your order. But as far as my wishes, I would rather accompany your efforts." He paused, finding his wording. "France's obligation may have been fulfilled, but my freely chosen duty as your friend remains."
The Scottish queen let a small, reassuring smile lift upon her. "You are the best of men, Sebastian." When his eyes rose to meet her own she leaned forward to retake his hand. "You are most certainly the greatest friend I have ever had."
The satisfaction in hearing that came through his eyes in bounds. "As you are the greatest friend of mine, my queen."
"I am not your queen." Her tone turned playful, needed relief from the pounding of her heart having come to be found. "Not unless I marry Francis and take pry away Catherine's crown."
He chuckled at the image as well as in how he was encouraged to still hear the word 'if' applied to her marriage to Francis. Again, he knew it not necessarily mean anything for him but if she marry his brother he cannot say he would be apt to stall or stop his perusal of her. No other woman would ever compare. But he did not wish to betray his brother so, he dearly loved them both. "There is where you are wrong Mary. I may be a child of France but my heart shall be citizen wherever you reign."
Goodness, she thought to herself. He certainly knew how to take a woman's breath away.
"Who is that?" Her attention deviated of its own accord in having seen the carriage pass a man having waved frantically to them. "Stop!" She yelled out to the men up front.
"Mary?" Bash looked out the carriage window, trying to see what had her so excitable. He could not see anything of interest.
She stepped out the moment the carriage slowed to a near stop, aware that Bash was shortly behind her and that several of her guards came to her left in an attempt to sandwich her position between the convoy and themselves. After a hundred feet she could see the elderly man struggling to run toward her, his hat in one hand and a bag in the other. She could see he had left some items by the roadside "Help him with his things." She instructed of a guard.
She remained where Bash had placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder to stall and waited for the man's approach. "My dear sir." She greeted, concern evident in her tone as she took the man in. A smear of blood run down his shirt, several cuts littered his features, though they seemed to have been cleaned and he be absent of any outer clothes, a shirt and pants all to be served in keeping out the cold of the weather.
"Your majesty." The man bowed low before her. His inward gulps of breath beginning to abate. "I have much to inform you on the state of Linlithgow."
Bash swiveled around Mary in concern. "Who are you?" After all, this could be some ploy of the rogue army set against her. He would not be keen to allow the man much closer without some understanding of him.
"I apologize." The gray hair on his head came to rest at chest height yet again before his eyes returned to theirs. "My name is Aonghas. I am an apothecary, fled from the village."
"Come." Mary once again gained ground on Bash but was mindful to not surpass him and remain close to his side for she knew he cared only for welfare. "You must to my carriage. We will get you food to recover and clothes for warmth and then you might set about telling me more of the situation of the village."
Bash set a guard to the task of procuring the items requested as he followed the queen and her subject closely back to the carriage. He held the door open and sat next to Mary as the apothecary took the rear facing seat. Once the items asked for were supplied, quickly and as prompt to his liking, he signaled that the convoy be off yet again.
"I thank your majesty's generosity." Aonghas pulled the supplied coat and cloak about him before taking a large bite of the food provided. "You are very kind, just as I had seen."
"Seen?" Mary's curiosity piqued. "Have you taken to my audience before?"
The old man shook his head earnestly and tapped his temple as his mouth was still mid chew. "I see much."
Bash's hand came to indicate the man's bag, the possession he had seemed insistent on carrying his own. "You are an apothecary. A seer too, perhaps?"
"You see much as well." He nodded in reply. "Not as I see it, but then your eyes are likely more reliable than my own."
Mary was intrigued but she had much she wished to learn of the situation in Linlithgow. She had a great personal interest there that she wished to protect and anything which she might gleam was appreciated. "How is it that you came to stand by the roadside?"
"I had known it was the path you to take once the decision had been made. However, I assume you ask as to why I had been from my village. I will make my answer short. I consider myself fortunate to have had the opportunity to flee its bounds before the majority of blood was shed."
Mary inhaled deeply, wishing she could call upon the comfort of Bash's hand so close to her own. He was always her anchor, she just wished it acceptable for him to be so.
Aonghas focused on the food in hand, not lifting his eyes for even a moment. "You may take his hand. I am not to judge or spread rumor."
Bash and Mary's eyes came to meet, he having been wanting to offer such comfort to her as well. They were spooked but he took the opportunity anyway, only keeping their grasp pressed gracefully into the seat between them.
"How dire is the situation? We are to arrive within the half hour. Anything you can provide so that I might prepare your queen's men is much desired."
The elder man finished his sustenance with a nod. "Of course, yes. The men came from the southwest at dawn this morning. First they had taken to the streets and we, my neighbors, apprentice and myself thought it might be a simple passing through as there appeared no need for them to wish quarter for the night. However, it became apparent that more was to it than this." He leaned forward to Mary. "Your majesty has many loyal to her in Linlithgow. However, those whom I had noticed to be sympathetic to the uprising had come to walk the street with these men and that was when I knew something was about. I set about packing my things but before I could see to my neighbors to do so as well I heard the violence erupting into the homes of the many around me and the shatter of the glass of my shop downstairs. My apprentice and I fled down the lattice upon which I grow my hops and to the less populated streets. Blood ran everywhere else."
Bash looked upon the man's state, worry in his expression. "You sustained some injury, this is clear. Do you need attention from a doctor, which we might call, for what we might not see?"
"No, no." Aonghas insisted. "I had trained as a physician myself in France until a colleague and myself were found out to have been apothecaries." He took a moment in thought, aware his next question was more informative to them for he already knew their reply. "You might know of him, being French. Nostradamus?"
Bash and Mary both nodded but made no comment so he continued. "I had made my way through the men by offering my services in remedies. Worry not, I gave them poison." He bowed to his queen, hand over his heart in earnest service. "My apprentice was unlucky to have found himself at the hands of a man unbelieving of his skills who decapitated him instantly and without cause. I escaped with only these wounds as a consequence of what skills I possess that others lack."
The queen looked upon her subject with pity at the guilt in his tone. "I am thankful for it for I might not have had the benefit for all I have learned. I thank you for your service."
He inclined his head in respect of the queen but the dismissal that could be found there frightened him. "I would offer my assistance to your majesty. I have noticed you have not a man of medicine in your accompaniment."
Mary was grateful for the offer and accepted as the carriage came to stall. Bash stepped out to see off the scouts that were to be sent into the city before the convoy would either turn into a battle ready company or a rescue party.
"If I may." Aonghas began as he leaned forward, the mark of Mary's attention on Bash through the carriage window prevalent to him. "I have much I might share on matters dear to your heart."
Mary's curiosity ripped her eyes away from Bash and to the gray man. "You have a report of prophesy?"
"Indeed. I have such." He whispered, taking the beautiful queen into his confidence. "First, I feel it my duty as you are my queen to share with you knowledge of what my friend Nostradamus has reported on his own visions to the French queen."
Mary wondered momentarily upon it. Perhaps this was something she truly did not want to know, her subject seemed eager to share yet hesitation was evident in tone. But she must know, if it give reason for Catherine's behavior she must come to understand. "Please, do free your mind."
"Very well, your grace. It seems Nostradamus had a vision when you arrived to court and shared it with the French queen." He paused, trying to find the words. "She had decided against you for what warning it had contained. She wishes only his protection but you might well need to be cautious when you return."
Mary gulped audibly. For Catherine to feel the need to protect her son, something dreadful must have been learned. "And the nature of this vision?"
"According to what he shared, it be that if you and the dauphin of France wed, death will come to him before his time."
Mary's complexion paled in that knowledge now come to pass but she retained her composure in reminding herself she might think over the implications of this at a more convenient time. "And have you a vision related to my fate? To what shall happen to Scotland?"
"Indeed I do." He quickened his words as Bash's voice came closer to the carriage. "Three women, unknown to one another, shall together create a path your majesty must only follow. Heed the advice and direction of these matriarchs and success of your heart's truest desires shall be yours."
Her reply was cut before it began when Bash opened the carriage door. "Mary, we are to take horses to the village. The scouts have found no movement to be concerned of as of yet." He reached for her hand assisting in her exit before he did the same to the elderly man. "You might find a horse of your own with my servant if you wish to accompany our party."
The enfeebled man bowed to the Frenchman in his gratitude before reaching for the hand of his queen as Bash had turned to take possession of the horses delivered to them. "This," he reached his soul out to hers.
Mary could feel herself overcome for the moment. A vision, so clear as if a memory, came before her eyes and once gone she looked upon the man in wonder as he finished his sentence. "This may still come to pass. Remember the prophesy I have told to you and it shall so be."
Mary stood staring off after him, barely aware of her movements as she took to her horse with Bash assisting in the effort. She could simply not shake the vision in which she and the seer had shared. It was of such a happy fantasy she had not yet allowed of herself. She, crowned and surrounded by loyal subjects, sitting upon her throne with one child on her lap and another expecting.
The juxtaposition of that happy dream, compared to the aftermath of the bloodshed of her people that she was now about to witness, was not lost upon her. As they set off towards the village bounds she found herself in desperate prayer that survivors be found. She was unsure if she were strong enough to face the task, but that vision being something which she might someday attain certainly made the prospect of facing the remnants of the village that lay ahead less of the challenge that she surely could otherwise not endure. It gave her permission to hope in terms of where her life might lead, where her country might end up after the uprising, and that perhaps not all of those for whom she cared for so greatly had been lost in Linlithgow.