Nigel Tranter - The Steps to the Empty Throne

“Because you are a fool, as I say. You lack understanding. Let us hope that is all you lack! Think on that! I had plans for you.

Other than just the payment of your debts. But I swear I must needs think again.” Edward tapped Elizabeth’s shoulder.

“My dear, I fear the matter is beyond redemption. But see if a woman may inst il a modicum of sense, if not wisdom, into that stubborn head. For I confess I have lost all patience with it.”

Without a further glance at either of them, majesty stalked off, beckoning to the ever-watchful Bishop of Durham.

Mystified, Bruce stared at the young woman.

“Of a mercy-what means all that?” he demanded.

“Has he taken leave of his wits? Or is he drunken? What does he mean?

What has he conceived against me? And how come you into it?”

Troubled, she bit her lip.

“He is strange, yes. But you know him better than do I. Before today, I had not seen him since I was a child.”

“I thought that I knew him passing well. Always he was passionate.

Changeable. A man or moods. But he has ever seemed to esteem me well enough. To trust me. What have I done that he should treat me like this?”

“I do not know. But from what he has said, I think that he questions your loyalty. You have come from Galloway, have you not? Perhaps what you were doing in Galloway aroused his suspicions?”

“I

was in Galloway, yes, when he summoned me here. Baliol was Lord of Galloway, before Edward named him king. Owned great lands there, he ired from his mother, Devorgilla of the old race. Bruce also held Galloway lands, which Baliol took when we clove to Edward. Since Baliol’s fall, I have been visiting these …”

“And the former King’s lands also?”

“I could scarce help pass through some. And why not? He seized all my Carrick lands, and gave them to Comyn …”

“No doubt, my lord. But perhaps tales have reached King Edward. From Galloway. Perhaps he believes that, now that King John Baliol is gone, you are seeking his great Galloway lands. And more than his lands. My father says that Galloway, properly mustered, could raise ten thousand men. Perhaps, my lord, His Majesty would prefer that the son of the man who now claims that he should be King of Scots should not control those thousands?”

He frowned at her. Chit of a girl as she was, she talked now like Richard de Burgh’s daughter.

“There is no truth in that,” he said.

“I have no thought to raise men. Against Edward. I have ever been loyal. I have raised men for him …

Loyal, my lord? Loyal to Edward of England? But not to Scotland, it seems. There are loyalties and loyalties!”

He stared at her.

“What do you mean? Baliol was ever the enemy of our house. When he became King, we fought against him. What else? Would you have had us lick his boots?”

You put Bruce before your Scotland?”

”Would you not put de Burgh before Ireland?”

“No. I would not.”

He shrugged.

“What is Scotland? Arabble of hungry, quarrelling lords. A land rent in pieces. A pawn in this game of kings.”

“Then is not here, perhaps, your answer, sir? If Bruce will put Bruce before Scotland, may he not put Bruce before Edward also? And when his father claims the Scots throne, Edward must needs look at Bruce with new eyes. And listen to the tales that men tell.”

“You think that is it? But there is no truth in it, I tell you.

My father is something of a fool. Weak. But stiff-necked. Perhaps he is, indeed, what Edward calls me! He will talk, but not act.

He is a man of books and parchments, not the sword. Edward need not fear him.”

“It is you he fears, I swear—not your father. And thinks to change his plans for you …”

“Aye—plans. What plans? What was he talking of, that he needs now to think again?”

“You do not know?”

“No. How should I know? He has told me nothing. Summoned me here, and then insulted me I Told me nothing, save that I am a fool. And, perhaps, traitor …!”

Elizabeth de Burgh looked away.

“You had a wife, my lord?”

He nodded.

“Aye. Isobel. Daughter to the Earl of Mar. We were wed young. She died. Two years ago. Giving birth to our daughter Marjory.”

“I am sorry.” She drew a deep breath.

“I have learned, since I came to Berwick, why my father brought me from Ireland. To this Scotland. It was King Edward’s command. He thought to marry me. To you!”

“Lord God!”

She raised her head, in a quick gesture.

“Well may you say so, my lord I Such match would have been as unwelcome to me as to yourself, I assure you. More so. So, I give thanks for the King’s change of mind!”

“But … but this is crazy-mad. Why? Why should he have had us to wed? Unknown to each other. How would such a match serve Edward?”

“That he did not reveal to me. But he is my god-sire. My father has long been his close companion. Perhaps he thought to bind you closer to him, thus. Make you more his man…”

“I’ faith—by foisting a wife on me! My father chose my first wife—a mere child. My next I shall choose for myself …”

“And welcome, sir—so long as you do not choose Elizabeth de Burgh!”

“H’rr’mm. I am sorry. I but mean that…”

“Your meaning is very clear, my lord. But no clearer than mine, I hope. Let us both thank God for His Majesty’s doubts!

It has saved me the distress of refusing him. And you! I bid you a good night, sir.” With the merest nod she turned and swept away, making for a door.

It did not take long for Robert Bruce to seek escape also, though by a different door. Nigel could look after himself.

But, as in the afternoon, King Edward proved that he had keen eyes. A messenger again came hurrying after the truant.

“His Majesty regrets that you saw fit to leave without his express permission, my lord,” he was told, expressionlessly.

“His Highness, however, will overlook the omission. But he commands that you attend the parliament he holds here at noon tomorrow.

On pain of treason. You have it, my lord of Carrick .?”

Scotland, in. 1296, was not notably advanced in parliamentary procedure; but the parliament held at Berwick that 28th of August was by any standard the most extraordinary the ancient kingdom had ever seen. For one thing, although it was held on Scottish soil and to deal with the affairs of Scotland, it was purely an English occasion; only English commissioners had power to vote, although the summoned Scots representatives were there, under threat of treason, in greater numbers than ever before. No Scot might even speak, unless he was specifically invited to do so.

Even the Englishmen, indeed, did little speaking, save for Bishop Beck,

who stage-managed all. And his clerks. It was, in fact, no parliament

at all, but a great public meeting for the announcement of the details

by which Edward Plantagenet’s dominion over conquered Scotland would be

implemented. Although the King left most of the actual talking to Beck

and his henchmen, his opening remarks made very clear what was required

of the assembly, and what would result from any failure to achieve it,

or the least questioning of the programme-as witness to which he there

and then announced orders for the arrest and imprisonment of any who

had failed to obey the summons to attend, including even an illustrious prelate, the Bishop of Sodor and Man.

Thereafter, Edward’s interventions were infrequent, but as telling as they were brief.

The main business was to announce the machinery by which Scotland would hereafter be governed. John de Warenne, Earl of Surrey, would be Viceroy; William de Amersham, Chancellor;

Hugo de Cressingham, Treasurer; William de Ormesby, Justiciar. The clerks Henry of Rye and Peter of Dunwich were appointed Escheators, officials with general supervision over all revenues north and south of Forth respectively. Another clerk, William Dru, would be Bishop of St. Andrews, and therefore Primate, since Bishop Fraser had fled; and would administer also the earldom of life and the customs of Dundee. The royal servants John Droxford, wardrobe-keeper, Philip Willoughby, cofferer and Ralph Manton, tailor, with others, would have oversight over all other earldoms and baronies as King’s Procurators.