Nigel Tranter - The Price of the King's Peace

So be it “My lords,” he said, when there was a pause.

“I am grateful for your advice and counsel. Your guidance. It is

clear that there is much division on this matter, but that many whose

opinion I value greatly do commend the Irish adventure. My lord

Chancellor need not, I think, put it to the vote. Unless so my lord of Carrick demands. As is his right. I am agreeable that a limited expedition shall go to Ireland. I will double the numbers that my lord of Carrick raises from his own lands. He shall lead the project, as it seems, he has arranged. But my men, the realm’s men, shall be under the command of my nephew, the Earl of Moray, whose ability, most certainly, will be of the utmost benefit to his uncle.”

There was a great in drawing of breaths as all considered this.

The monarch, Bruce the hero-king, had given in. But only so far.

And he had appointed Moray, the level-headed and imperturbable Moray whom Edward hated, perhaps the one man within the kingdom who could cope with his fiery uncle, as watchdog.

Edward glared from his brother to his nephew, gulped, but nodded.

“So be it,” he repeated.

“No vote.”

The audible sigh of relief from all around was interrupted by the King himself.

“One further matter, before I ask my lord Chancellor to proceed with the business. Five or six thousand men cannot be carried over to Ireland without a large fleet. My lord of Ross, Who favours this venture, will no doubt lend his galleys. But that will not serve for half of it. There will be required my lord of the Isles’ galley fleet” That gave all pause-as it was meant to do. Angus Og was not present. On principle, he avoided parliaments, as his attendance might be construed as in some measure admitting that his lordship was a constituent part of Brace’s kingdom, a contradiction of his notional independence. And Angus Og cordially loathed the Earl of Carrick.

Edward looked put out.

“Angus of the Isles will not refuse? Will not withhold his galleys?”

That was a question rather than one of Edward’s confident statements.

“He is the Admiral. High Admiral of Scotland. He will do as you

say.”

The galleys are his own, not the realm’s. And Angus of the Isles is Angus! If he disapproves of this venture …!” Bruce did not need to enlarge on that.

“But I will speak with him.”

The King paused, and all recognised that he remained the master. That he could prevent the expedition from sailing, if he would, without having to order it. He went on.

“There is another matter to be considered. In this. It was next on my lord Chancellor’s list for discussion. But it has relevance now.

Lame John MacDougall of Lorn, in rebellion, whom King Edward made his Admiral of the Western Sea, to harass us, has returned to the Hebrides. In force. So the Lord of the Isles sends me word. And urges a campaign against him. He by sea, myself by land. MacDougall has a large fleet. Part his own, part English, part Anglo-Irish. I need not tell you what he could do against any invasion fleet for Ireland, carrying thousands of men. Across the Irish Sea.”

There was silence now. Even Edward looked thoughtful at the

prospect.

“It would be better, then, if we dealt with Lame John first.

Before my lord of Carrick’s venture.”

Edward Bruce was looking anxious. He shook his head.

“No,” he cried.

“It must be in May. That was the agreement. With the chiefs. O’Neill in especial. Before their hay-harvest, he said, when the men return to their crofts. After the end of May it will be too late. I am committed to a May expedition.”

“Then, my lord, I say that you should have thought more fully on how

you were to carry your thousands to Ireland!” The King had his

headstrong brother now. But scoring points off Edward was not Bruce’s

main concern. It was the maintenance of his own magnificent team of

lieutenants and friends in harmony, as one of the most effective

fighting units in all Christendom. Much was worth sacrificing for

that. He shrugged.

“The safety of my own realm is paramount, and must come first,” he went on.

“I must deal with John MacDougall. But it may be that this can wait until, let us say, the end of June. I shall speak with the Lord of the Isles. I may be able to persuade him to come here to the SouthWest, in mid-May, a month from this. With his galleys. To carry the Irish expedition across. And then to return for the assault on MacDougall. This I will seek to do. Is it agreed?”

Heartfelt applause greeted this suggestion, this gesture, from all parts of the hall, so that Edward was constrained to join in. He was aware that he had been in some measure out-manoeuvred, made to look slightly foolish, and put in his brother’s debt. But at least his project could go ahead.

“My lord Chancellor,” the King turned.

“My regrets that I have for so long obstructed your place and function.

To the next business.”

Bernard de Linton bowed.

“I declare the matter of the Act of Succession to the Throne, to be

decided by this parliament. It has long been His Grace’s concern that

in the event of his death, without a son, the succession should be

secured, in proper fashion, for the due maintenance and good governance

of the kingdom. Since Almighty God has seen fit, in His infinite

wisdom, to deny His Grace such lawful son, the King has hereby sought

to make such provision, and now declares the matter for this

parliament’s acceptance, or otherwise.” He paused.

“Hear, then. It is the King’s wish and proposal that, in the event of his own death without a son being born to him in wedlock, his right noble and well-beloved brother Edward, Earl of Carrick and Lord of Galloway, does thereupon succeed to the throne as lawful King of Scots. And should the said Lord Edward die without lawful son, before or after, the said succession shall revert to His Grace the Lord Robert’s daughter, the Lady Marjory, and any heirs to her body. Is this accepted and agreed?”

There was a mixed reception and little enthusiasm. Few there, even amongst those who most admired his dash and spirit, considered that Edward would make a satisfactory monarch. Yet the alternative was a spiritless girl who most clearly desired no part in kingship. A regency, to rule, while Marjory reigned, might have been better-except that the regent would have to be Edward, and if he was going to rule, he might as well be the King. And, if there was -suggested a triumvirate of regents, say Moray and another, Edward would seek to dominate, inevitably; all the troubles of the old Guardianship days would be renewed. The assembly signified assent, that was all.

The Chancellor nodded.

“It is the King’s added proposal that in the Act to be drawn up to make this parliament’s decision lawful and binding, it should be stated that, if the said Lord Edward, or the said Lady Marjory, should die leaving a male heir who is a minor, in that event the most noble Thomas, Earl of Moray, His Grace’s sister’s son, should administer the governance of the realm until such heir reached due age. Is this agreed?”

There was more general applause for this.

“Furthermore, and related to this matter, it is His Grace’s royal pleasure and satisfaction to make known to his loyal lieges of all Estates here assembled, that he has decided to bestow the hand of his daughter, the said Lady Marjory, upon his leal and true councillor and friend, the noble Lord Walter, High Steward of Scotland.

Which match he believes will well serve the realm and well please all those here present.”

The shout of acclaim which greeted this announcement proved that belief true, at least. Everywhere men cheered. It had been feared that Marjory would never many; and Walter Stewart was well liked, of good blood and sufficiently lofty in rank to satisfy all.