Lymond reading notes 3 – Game of Kings – The Play for Jonathan Crouch
In a chess context, blindfold play is literally playing without sight of the board. One or both players can be blindfold. If both players are playing blindfold then they sit facing away from each other and a third person plays their announced moves on a board and watches for any illegal moves.
You have to visualise the position in your head and keep track of what has been moved. Players who are very good at this can even play multiple games at once – known as blindfold simultaneous. The world record is playing 48 opponents simultaneously. In my youth I once managed 4 at once. It’s challenging and fun but very taxing.
First meeting – in misleading circumstances
We’ve been introduced to Christian on the battlements of Boghall with Richard and Wat Scott, but the second time we meet her is after Lymond and Richard have met and Lymond has placed the doubt in Richard’s mind that sends him correctly to face Wharton and Lennox and deter them from completing the pincer movement that could have led to the defeat of the whole country.
We now get a complete change of pace – something that we’ll see many times in Dorothy’s writing.
Simon Bogle discovers a body unconscious in the bog and takes him back to Christian, who is in charge at Boghall Castle now that Lord Fleming is dead and Jenny is with the royal party at Stirling. But of course we don’t know that it’s Lymond at this point – it could easily be Will Scott, who also appears to have been knocked out in the same skirmish when Erskine rescues Richard.
An interesting little ploy of Dorothy’s – we are in Christian’s viewpoint and she is blind, so we are effectively blind as well, until the subtle clues are gradually presented. In fact the following scenes are presented through sounds, spoken words or Christian’s thoughts and very little is described. Once you realise how she’s doing it, it’s a cunning and delightful technique.
Christian’s first action is to use her sense of touch to learn as much as she can about the unconscious figure, and it tells her a great deal – that he’s young, and very well dressed (apart from the English cloak). Dorothy uses the phrase – “the shape of an unconscious boy”, which is a fleeting and easily missed hint about Lymond’s age – something we probably haven’t considered yet.
Then there’s an interesting little slice of dialogue:
“If I were married or promised to that young gentleman I’d sell the lead off the roof to ransom him back. Unless he’s a Spaniard, do you think?”
“Not with that hair, m’lady.”
Now Sym doesn’t actually say he’s blond, or indeed red-headed, and the reader may jump to either conclusion depending on how they’ve interpreted matters so far – cunning indeed by our author. If we’ve thought about it – either now or later – we’re also left to guess whether he says it off-scene.
If Christian does know he’s blond then would that be enough to raise the idea in her mind of his real identity? It’s only later that we are introduced to the idea that with her heightened sense of hearing and auditory memory she might know Lymond’s voice from years before. But at this point she hasn’t yet heard it, and we are probably much too busy to think about her life in the world of sound and what that implies.
An intriguing speculation is whether she and Lymond knew each other as children – which seems quite likely – and if they did whether Lymond ever allowed her to feel his face with her fingers and would she have enough of a sense of him to recognise him from that years later?
The discussion with Sym also gives us some little hints at Christian’s sharp intelligence, sense of humour, and ability with words:
“Hugh’s bad temper takes practical forms,” said Christian thoughtfully. “Ransom or no ransom, your gentleman will find himself in multiple array on the wall spikes if Hugh sets eyes on him.”
Sym devoted some thought to this. “Of course, we can’t write for ransom anyway until he wakes up and says who he is.”
“And by that time, Hugh might be feeling more like himself.”
“I find the resemblance to himself at the present moment quite startling,” said Christian. “But never mind. Go on.”
I rather think I fell in love with Christian with that line! It has a rhythm that seems very Scottish and a sense of wry humour that is the same.
We’ll soon get much more of this as she verbally crosses swords with the amnesiac Lymond, albeit gently.
Once Sym has him put to bed, with fire and food prepared for when he wakes up, we get a lovely little description from Christian’s blind perspective.
Flurried movements of the big fire, to her left. Silk, pricking her right hand as the bed curtains stirred in an eddy. A rustle from Sym’s feet in the rushes. A voice far below in the courtyard, crying something she could not quite catch. A creak from the bed. Another. A languid stir of the bedclothes.
It’s such an evocative little section, putting us in touch with her senses of touch and hearing. And intriguingly she’s then described as “gripped with laughter”, which raises interesting questions.
Later, he awakens:
“God: my skull’s split.”
It was a cultured voice, with no inflection which would have seemed out of place at any point north of the Tyne. Like the jewelled aiglettes it announced consequence, character and money.
So still no clue – Lymond or Will?
As regards his accent and what clues it could give, it may be that Dorothy is fudging things a little here. The accent in Newcastle, which sits near the mouth of the Tyne, is very different than say an Edinburgh accent. Of course the richer and more cultured you are the more similar the accent may be, and Lymond speaks French, German, and Latin, and that may also tend to flatten any differences.
He ate, and much intrigued, Christian waited.
On first read we can’t tell if this is a very subtle hint that she already knows who he is, but on later reads…. maybe.
And she uses her incisive mind to good effect immediately:
At the end, he spoke again. “I was not, I hope, wearing a nightshirt when discovered?”
An artless gentleman.
Christian followed the lead. “Your clothes are drying, sir. Your weapons were impounded when we found you were English.”
and finds an interesting response:
“English! Lucifer, Lord of Hell!” (Here was passion.) “Do I look like an Englishman?”
So she then follows up with her little-used trump card:
“I,” said Christian with wicked simplicity, “am blind. How should I know?”
But his response is simple and perfectly phrased to avoid pity or embarrassment:
“Oh, are you? I’m sorry. You hide it extremely well. Then what,” he asked anxiously, “made your friends think I was English?”
At this point on my first read I was already pretty sure that this was Lymond – I felt that Will would have had more of a sustained emotional reaction after the brief outburst. Even when not quite fully in his senses this suggests Lymond’s control, which we’ve already had hints of.
The next section has him venturing into poetic areas, which Christian falls in with effortlessly. Then Sym asks his name and we, and Christian, realise that he’s feeling confused and somewhat woozy, and then that he has no memory of who he is. Sensitively, she allows him to rest, but Dorothy keeps us on our toes by putting Will’s words into his mouth:
“This officer, but doubt, is callit Deid. . .”
Before falling asleep he produces the following:
“O lady: nor later. Deceit deceiveth and shall be deceived. It’s no good and I can’t prove it’s no good: I shall be as much use to you as the Nibelunglied. For I can recall nothing . . . nothing . . . not the remotest damned shred of my identity.”
The Nibelunglied is a German epic poem from the 13th century that basically ends with everyone killing everyone else. It inspired, amongst other things, Wagner’s famous Ring Cycle. Dorothy was a fan of Wagner so this is a fascinating little item of her experience dropped in.
On the question of whether he could be faking his amnesia, I never felt it likely – largely because of the way he reacts when his memory returns and the circumstances surrounding it. Also he acts in a more innocent way during the episode – as if the many cares and concerns he carries have been removed.
I was asked during the discussion about why I trusted Lymond not to be faking it. You can see part of my answer to that in a blog post called Love at First Sight, or not, https://www.dorothydunnett.co.uk/blog/book-discussion/love-at-first-sight-or-not.php
which fortunately has no real spoilers so is safe for first-time readers.
Second discussion
The following day Christian visits her mysterious guest again, discovering that he is up and feeling better, but still suffering from amnesia. Noticeably he immediately suggests she may want to return later as Sym isn’t there, so as to protect her from any suggestion of impropriety, but she dismisses it.
He has been talking to Simon and has learned a great deal.
They discuss the risks of her staying at Boghall before turning to his identity and what will happen if his memory doesn’t return before she goes to Stirling.
They lapse into poetry and she matches one of his quotes to his delight. Their conversation is relaxed but still shrewd, showing their respective intelligence and awareness of undercurrents.
He remarks that “Most of the heroes and all the poets appear to have been there before me.” as regards his loss of memory, and drops into French, which translates as:
“The nightingale is my father, who sings on the branch, in the highest grove. The siren, she is my mother, who sings in the dirty sea, on the highest shore.”
“Your French is excellent, of course,” said Christian. “And you disliked being called English.”
“Thank you.”
“Implying Scottish rather than English affinities-“
“I hoped you’d notice that.”
“-In which case,” said Christian reasonably, “do you not owe it to yourself to appear in public? Someone here might even recognize you.”
“A shrewd move, decidedly,” said the prisoner with interest. “If I disagree, I am undoubtedly lying about my loss of memory. On the other hand, it might be genuine, and my belief that I am Scots might be unfounded; in which case your friend Hugh, according to Sym, will be apt to give free play to his prejudices, and your hopes of a ransom will vanish.”
and later
She smiled, and threw his own quotation back at him. “Deceit deceiveth and shall be deceived. You have an incorruptible voice and a lawyer’s tongue. One thing I commend in you: you refused to add to the sins of the poets. A false pedigree is always worse than none at all.”
“Avoiding your traps, O virtuous lady, O mixt and subtle Christian. But, as you see, I am honest and good, and not ane word could lie.”
“a lawyer’s tongue” is an interesting choice of phrase – is that a compliment or the opposite?
Shortly after this Dorothy uses an interesting word:
Betrayed into archness, Christian caught her temper and said evenly, “I can’t, of course, answer for what will happen to you if I leave before your memory comes back. But meanwhile, until it does, you may have grace to stay anonymous, if you wish.”
Archness – the quality of being deliberately or affectedly playful and teasing. Some definitions suggest it verges on rudeness. Is Christian annoyed at herself for being rude, or perhaps for being a little flirtatious? On first read we probably don’t suspect that she knows who he is, but on second and later reads we may suspect that she does – is she toying with him, or is she perhaps attracted to him?
Memory’s a fickle thing
We get a short description of the strain on all of the inhabitants of Biggar due to the news filtering in from Pinkie and its aftermath, which neatly gives us the strategic situation in the Lothians, and the dangers if Wharton’s army on the West should match the advances of Grey in the East.
In the afternoon Christian returns to the room to find Lymond giving Sym a fencing lesson! Dispatching the lad with admonitions, which she also applies to Lymond, they exit into her secluded private garden and we get a lovely description of the scents of the flowers in language taken from a musical setting – neatly combining Christian’s two chief senses and paving the way for Lymond to introduce his own main passion, which matches hers.
Nothing moved but great rumours of perfume swelling and fading, sforzando and diminuendo; an orchestration of woodwind in the warm air. Silence, broken by three golden notes of a lute: her own, she remembered, left on the bottom step. She said, “If you play, please go on. Music’s my joy and my obsession.”
(We’ll get used to the wonderful quality of Dorothy’s descriptions but this one is a lovely early example – quite simple but deliciously apt.)
He starts to play, and then to sing, and moves through a variety of styles and composers, delighting Christian. Their shared love of music relaxes them and brings laughter as they discourse in song and melody and musical ideas. It is perhaps our first glimpse of Lymond being innocently happy.
However she remembers she has a trick to try to prompt his memory and asks about Jonathan Crouch – who Lymond has mentioned in his sleep. He starts to answer then realises he’s remembered more than he knew. He’s shaken but not annoyed, but it doesn’t immediately trigger any further memories.
He starts to play The Frogge would a wooing ride… and in the second section stops suddenly as the lyrics blast apart his amnesia by reminding him of his teasing of Richard. (This was the point at which I decided on that first read that I needed to intensify my concentration on this fascinating and devious author, lest I miss other connections that she might be laying.)
Immediately he confesses to Christian that he has persuaded Sym to show him how to escape, but throws himself on her mercy by saying that he’ll only use it with her permission. Finishing with an Italian couplet
‘Se’l ser un si, scrivero’n rima;
Se’l ser un no, amici come prima.’
which translates as:
If it’s a yes, I’ll write a rhyme;
If it’s a no, we’ll be friends as before.
There followed a pause, during which Christian came to the annoyed conclusion that she had once more been outmanoeuvred. Possessing the key, he had flung himself on her mercy. Why? It occurred to her that when referring to the enslavement of Sym, he had refrained with the utmost tact from drawing a parallel. He had left her to do that. To betray him now would suggest the vindictiveness of a disappointed woman, and she might well, in his opinion, shrink from that.
‘Amici come prima, indeed!’ repeated Christian viciously to herself, …
“a disappointed woman”. Again it seems to hint at a slightly romantic edge to her feelings. It seems, that even without his memory, and without her being able to see his handsome beauty, that he retains that magnetism that follows him through his life. I’m not suggesting that she’s in love with him but she does seem to be entranced by his honesty and his manner.
There is another possibility – if she already knows who he is then ‘Amici come prima, indeed!’ could take on a deeper meaning if they were friends when younger.
Dorothy drops another little hint at potential feelings at the end as Tom Erskine arrives, and having sent Lymond off with Sym we get:
Christian Stewart lifted her skirts and began climbing the stairs thoughtfully.
“Damn the man!” said she, as she went; and it was not at all clear which man she meant.
Talking to Tom, she, and us, get an update on what’s happening. He and Richard have confronted and attacked Wharton who has retreated back into England.
“Overconfidence, we think. They spread a rumour they meant to march north, and got a shock when Culter assumed the opposite and charged in. Made a mess of poor old Annan, but nothing to what Clydesdale missed, thank God. Although I don’t mind saying,” he added frankly, “that Culter took a chance I wouldn’t have touched with a billhook.”
Seen in the light of Lymond’s taunting of Richard and telling him the Protector’s forces are in Stirling we get a clue to his real character. Lymond’s misdirection and false information has worked and Richard, disbelieving him and assuming that he was trying to trick him, has changed his mind and done the right thing for the wrong reason, and saved Scotland from disaster. A strong hint that Lymond is on Scotland’s side.
Later, Christian goes with Sym to the cave where Lymond has already been found by Johnnie Bullo, and she offers to find out about Jonathan Crouch. He gallantly declines but she plans to try anyway. His use of Shahrazad’s name in respect of her is another little hint that she picks up on irritably. Does it perhaps suggest that he feels she may be maintaining their relationship by trying to be useful to him, and he, knowing the dangers in his situation, is trying to deter her in order to protect her?
This chapter’s notes are partly based on part of my blog post at
https://www.dorothydunnett.co.uk/blog/book-discussion/close-encounters.php
which also includes some material from the following chapter.
Information on Boghall, including some engravings and sketches of what it looked like can be found at https://www.dorothydunnett.co.uk/visits-south.php