‘So, let’s make a start. We’re jumping to 16th-century Edinburgh and far from keeping our heads down and staying out of trouble, we’re going to be walking right into it. Dr Peterson and I have put together a scenario, approved by the Boss, as follows:
‘Scotland is a trading nation. So is England. English wool is the backbone of their economy. Scotland exports wool too; Melrose wool is a quality product but, when it comes to wool, it’s England that the world looks to. We intend to come at this in an unusual way. The deal is that we offer Mary exotic goods and fabrics from the east, in exchange for Melrose wool. To establish Scotland on the important trade routes of the time. To raise its profile and give it the opportunity to get in with the big boys. If, and we emphasise this, only if she will substantially undercut Elizabeth’s prices. We don’t want to raise suspicions by making the offer too good to be true. However, given the rivalry between the two of them, we think she’ll jump at the opportunity to gain such a lucrative advantage over her cousin.
‘To this end, we will be posing as a delegation from Istanbul. And be careful here. Constantinople fell in 1453, and officially became Istanbul. You will find the city referred to by either name. Be aware of this. We are representing a guild of international merchants eager to open a trading relationship with Scotland. This should not have too great an impact on the timeline. We’re simply anticipating the formation of the Levant Company by a few years. We will be rich, grand, ostentatious, and very, very visible. We will obtain an audience with the Queen, present our credentials, letters of introduction and recommendations, and bring gifts – precious gifts.
‘This should give us the entrée and, from this grand opening, somehow, we will be seeking to influence events and get things back on track. And before you all look too dismayed, remember this. Just for once, it might be that History is on our side. We’re the good guys in all this – this time she might just bat for our team, so keep your fingers crossed.
‘Now, how do we achieve all this? If I could refer you to your cast of characters, please. The delegation will be headed by the French speaking Sir Richard Hampton, representing the merchants of Istanbul. Or Chief Farrell as he prefers to be known. Accompanying him are his brother Christopher, that’s Dr Peterson and his aide de campe, Robert Morton. Major Guthrie, that’s you. Major, Mr Markham is already signed up, but please can you select two or three more people from your team to accompany us. Please emphasise their main objective will be to safeguard a bunch of historians hell-bent on disaster, and therefore some sort of death-wish and a complete disregard for personal safety will be an advantage on this assignment.’
Guthrie grinned.
‘They’re queuing up.’
‘Really?’
He grinned again.
‘Are you kidding?’
‘OK. Well, setting aside the lemming-like behaviour of the security section for one moment, I’m going as the sister, Mary Hampton. A female presence may be useful since we’re dealing with a queen. Miss Schiller, our Tudor specialist, will accompany me as Janet, maid and chaperone.’
‘Good luck with that,’ said Peterson and she laughed.
‘Moving on,’ I said, glaring at the two of them. Water off a duck’s back. ‘Equipment required:
‘We’ll be using Pods Five and Six. The big ones. However, they’re not big enough for this number of personnel, so …’ I took a deep breath. This was the biggie. ‘We won’t be using them as our base. They are transport only. We’ll leave them outside town. We’re actually going to be living amongst 16th century contemporaries.’
Complete silence.
OK, it could have been worse. They were all still here. I ploughed on.
‘We could be there for up to three months. There will be at least eight of us, coming and going. With all the gear we’re taking, we’d need at least four pods. Too many. Besides, we’ll be high profile. We may need to entertain. So, we’ll be hiring a house. Right slap bang in the most fashionable area – Canongate, where the top people live.
‘Firstly, however, I want to send Mrs Enderby, properly escorted of course,’ I said to reassure her, and wasting my time because her whole face lit up with excitement, ‘to 16th century Istanbul to organise the purchase of carpets, silks, lace, velvets, all kinds of fabrics – gifts with which to tempt a Scottish queen to sign a trade agreement.’
‘Can we not use contemporary fabrics?’ she asked.
‘We could, but if we have to leave in a hurry – and past experience suggests we will – we can’t leave them behind and we can hardly present her Scottish Majesty with fabulous gifts then ask for them all back again, can we?’
‘We could show them to her and then take them away afterwards,’ suggested Guthrie.