BALVENIE exits.

JAMES enters. He’s startled to see WILLIAM on the floor, bleeding. WILLIAM scrambles up quickly, getting himself together.

JAMES. I was looking for your father.

WILLIAM. He just left.

JAMES. Christ. The room’s full out there. The whole hunt’s back home. We’re just starting the drinking properly.

The sound of raucous voices, off. Someone calls.

LORD. King James! Come on through!

JAMES (calling off). Give me a moment here.

That was some day out, eh? Three stags. Can you believe it? Three. Was that a fourteen-pointer, you brought down? I know it was. You were the man today.

WILLIAM. If I hear you talking about seeing me like this I’ll cut your throat. I will.

JAMES. Christ, man, that’d be treason. They’d have your head.

You missed a bit.

WILLIAM. What?

JAMES cleans a last bit of blood off him.

JAMES. There you go. No one could tell.

WILLIAM (quiet). Thanks. You go on out. I’m fine now.

JAMES. Shut up. I’m not leaving you like this.

WILLIAM. I’m fine.

JAMES. Would you leave me? No. So shut up. You know what the deal is. We stand by each other. Always.

WILLIAM takes his hand.

WILLIAM. Always.

There’s another roar from the drinkers, off. BALVENIE enters and watches them secretly.

Christ, listen to them out there. Drunken bastards.

They’re all bastards, James. There’s just you and me.

JAMES. That’s enough. We’ll be fine. Just you and me.

Let’s just get drunk, man.

They run off.

BALVENIE has been watching this – he enters the room and snatches up his ‘Earl of Douglas’ ceremonial robe.

End of Act One.

ACT TWO

Royal Bedroom

The room is just lit by candles on the desk where JAMES is signing documents, with LIVINGSTON standing over him. MARY is in bed, asleep. JAMES is dressed for bed.

LIVINGSTON (showing him). Just a few more. Sign here on this one.

CRICHTON enters. Again, he seems just to observe the scene for a moment.

CRICHTON. I didn’t know we had a council tonight.

LIVINGSTON. We don’t. You’re not needed here, Crichton. Go to bed.

CRICHTON just stands, watching.

Now… the grants of the abbeys, Your Majesty…

(Showing him where to sign.) Here… and here…

CRICHTON. Sounds like Privy Council business to me.

LIVINGSTON. That is at the King’s pleasure.

CRICHTON. Oh, the King’s pleasure, is it?

LIVINGSTON (advancing on him). When did you get so bold, wee man? So now you think you can just walk into the King’s bedroom without an invitation and not lose your head for it?

CRICHTON. I’m just thinking the rest of the Privy Council might like to know we’re doing business by moonlight now.

LIVINGSTON. You stay out of my business, Crichton, and I’ll let you scuttle about doing yours till I’m ready…

JAMES (cutting over them both). Mother of Christ! Can we finish this? Come on! I just…

I just want to be done with this, Crichton. Enough.

A stand-off.

LIVINGSTON. You heard him. You heard your King.