Nigel Tranter - The Steps to the Empty Throne

before, it had been required to produce, on the king’s demand, the

equivalent in men, arms and horses, of the followings of twenty-five

knightly lairds at, say, fifty men each. Much more than that could be

raised now, at a major mobilisation. Bruce reckoned that Annandale

could muster three thousand, at a pinch, even in a week; but such was

not his intention now, whatever Percy might say. There was no point in denuding and impoverishing the land, in present circumstances. Half that number would be enough.

Five days of recruiting and selecting and mustering saw just over fifteen hundred men assembled at Annan, few enthusiastic, for the presence of Sir Henry’s two hundred English horse, in whose close and unremitting escort the Earl of Carrick was very clearly little better than a captive, left few doubts as to which side they would be fighting for. Not that the Annandale men were aggressively Scottish; with their territory wide open to the English border, and great hill masses cutting them off from the rest of Scotland, for generations, they had been under southern rather than northern influence. But fighting against their fellow-Scots was another matter—though they had no option, if their lord so commanded.

The sixth day they rode back to Carlisle—rode, for Annandale was a notable place for the breeding of horseflesh, the sturdy, stocky, long-maned garrons which the English mockingly described as ponies but which were in fact full-grown surefooted horses, though short in the leg. Every man was mounted. This, of course, was one of Surrey’s requirements, being short of cavalry.

On ahead, Edward and Nigel Bruce flanked their brother, within a tight cohort of Beaumont’s men, who were taking no risks with a prisoner who now commanded seven times their own number.

Carlisle was like an ant-hill disturbed, with thousands of the levies of North Country English lords milling around. But the vast majority of these were footmen, it was to be noted—and Bruce sent Nigel back to warn his Annandale host, at the encampment they were allotted beside the Eden, to watch over their horses. There would be many envious glances cast in their direction, that was certain; and Scots might well be looked on as fair game. They should keep out of the town, therefore, or there might be trouble.

A surprise awaited the Bruces at the citadel. Percy was already returned from the east, and he had brought Elizabeth de Burgh with him, for some reason. Unwarned, the young men came face to face with her in the Great Hall—to their distinct unease. She was entirely self-possessed—but betrayed no delight at the meeting.

Going on for his interview with Percy, after a somewhat abrupt greeting, Bruce at least was in a turmoil of mixed resentment and speculation.

Percy received the brothers civilly enough, even congratulating them on the numbers of men raised—although he had hoped for perhaps five hundred more, he indicated. He appeared to accept [be adherence of the two younger Bruces as no more than appropriate They would ride north the next day. He mentioned, as an Afterthought, that his kinswoman, the Lady Elizabeth de Burgh, had accompanied him to Carlisle, with his wife. His visitors made no comment.

Bruce did not fail to seek a reason for this move. He did not flatter himself that his own presence at Carlisle had itself attracted the young woman across the country. Moreover, the assembling of an army, in a hurry, was no occasion for feminine jaunting.

Therefore Percy, who was a cold-blooded fish if ever there was one, and did nothing without a cause, must have brought her for a purpose. She was Edward’s goddaughter, the child of the monarch’s closest friend—and no doubt it was widely known that the King had once contemplated marrying her to Bruce. Presumably as a precaution, to bind him closer. That could scarcely apply now. But Percy might believe that there was still something between them. He must hope, in some way, to use her to bring pressure to bear. But how? And why?

Bruce, at any rate, did not propose to assist him in whatever was his project. He would avoid the girl. Not that he had any difficulty in this, at first, for Elizabeth appeared to be no more anxious than he for any association. The citadel was swarming with people. The Bruces kept themselves to themselves.

That night, however, the Bishop of Carlisle held a banquet for the leaders of the new army, and the Bruces were summoned.

Precedence, for seating, presented an obvious problem, but the Bishop got over the difficulty by providing a special table for the Scots, at the back of the dais. And to Bruce’s side here, presently, the prelate brought and seated Elizabeth de Burgh, before all the company, a gesture calculated to attract the maximum of notice, with so few women present and this one the most highborn as well as far and away the most beautiful.

Bruce, although not normally lacking in the powers of speech, on this

occasion was practically wordless. Without herself being forthcoming,

the young woman was at least civil, but she obtained little response

from her right hand neighbour. Fortunately at her other side, the Lord

of Annandale saw no reason for either resentment or embarrassment, and

finding a courteous listener, launched into anecdotes of the Crusade

on which he and Richard de Burgh had accompanied King Edward, in their youth.

Wine, however, had the effect of making Bruce the Elder sleepy, and as the repast proceeded, his talk grew thick and disconnected, and presently died away in puffs and little snores.

Elizabeth, although she could not be unaware of the admiring glances cast on her by many, and especially Edward Bruce on his father’s left, chose to turn to her heavily silent neighbour on the right.

“So, my lord, you now neither talk nor rebel!” she said, pleasantly.

He frowned.

“I keep my own counsel,” he jerked, in reply.

“So I perceive. And unpleasing counsel it must be, I think.”

“Why think you so?”

“From your face, if naught else! You look uncommon sour, sir! And since the counsel you keep to yourself can scarcely be to your own congratulation.”

He began to speak, but thought better of it, and closed his lips tightly.

“You are Edward’s man again,” she went on, conversationally.

“How happy His Majesty!” And when he still did not reply, “You found rebellion unprofitable, did you?”

He answered her questions with another, and abruptly.

“Why are you here?” he demanded.

She took a moment or two to answer.

“Because I was brought.

With the Lady Percy, my cousin.”

“Brought, aye. You are not sitting beside the Lady Percy!”

“No doubt she sees sufficient of me. I am living with her, while my father fights with the King in France. Moreover, has she not Sir Robert Clifford to entertain her?”

“So I see. And she is welcome to him! Why were you brought here, then?”

She looked at him thoughtfully.

“I do not know,” she said.

“You did not ask Sir Henry to bring me?”

“I did not!” That was vehement.

She smiled faintly.

“At least, I see, you are honest in some things, my lord!”

“Are you saying that I am dishonest in others, madam?”

“It may be that I used the wrong word, sir. Should I have said frank?

Open? Single-minded?”

“You have no very high opinion of me!”

“I do not deny it. Have I reason for it? Am I mistaken about you, my lord? I sent you a letter.”

“Aye. I received it. Scarce a letter, it was. An insult, rather!”

“I asked a question then, too. That I might, perhaps, think the better of you. And you did not answer.”

“How could I answer such a thing? You asked if I was a man I Or a clerk? And should you thank God to have escaped me!”