Bruce would have seen Wallace’s head rotting on London Bridge. ‘By God,’ said Edward. ‘I’m not dead yet and before I go I’ll have that traitor’s head beside Wallace’s.’
He did not like these heroes. Wallace had been one. He believed Bruce would be another.
‘Oh God, give me strength,’ he prayed. ‘Let me finish this task before I go.’
But God did not listen. Each day he grew weaker. He hated to admit it, but riding exhausted him and when he could only travel four miles a day he had to stop pretending and to accept the litter which those about him advised him to use.
They came to rest at Burgh-on-Sands and all knew – and even the King must agree – that he could go no farther.
He ordered that he should have a room from which he could see the Solway Firth. He knew he would never leave this bed. He would die in England in sight of that water which separated England from Scotland.
The news would reach the Scots that he was on his deathbed. That would fill them with rejoicing. Edward would be glad too. Oh, God preserve England with my son Edward as her King.
His dear Queen would mourn him; so would his daughters. There were some who loved him.
But he must think of the future. There was little time left. He had seen the sun rise but it might well be that he would not see it set.
He sent for his son. His sight was failing a little. The priest should come to him; but he had his duty first.
‘Edward, my son …’
‘Father.’
He saw him through a haze – handsome, tall. Such a fine king he could have made. Where did we go wrong? Edward asked himself. Where, oh where?
‘Edward,’ he said, ‘take care of your little half-brothers and sister.’
‘I will, Father.’
‘When I am gone I want you to send a party of knights to the Holy Land. There is much wrong I have done in my life …’ His voice trailed off. He thought he was looking up at London Bridge and seeing Wallace’s head … or was it Llewellyn’s or Davydd’s? He had been harsh in battle. He had slaughtered many. He had commanded that his enemies be hung, drawn and quartered as Wallace had been. An example to others, he had said. Others had been tied to the tails of horses and dragged to the gallows. The deaths of brave men had made spectacles for the people. He had had a cage built for the Countess of Buchan, who had worked against him and had the ill fortune to be captured, and condemned her to remain there like a wild beast until he gave the order for her release, which he had never given.
These things he remembered as he lay on his bed. They were enemies of England and he had lived for England. But he must send those knights to the Holy Land to please God, that He might forgive him his sins.
‘My heart shall be taken from my body and the knights must carry it with them.’
‘Yes, Father,’ said Edward dutifully. ‘It shall be done.’
‘Pursue the Scottish war, Edward. Carry on where I have left off. God sees fit to take me before I have finished my task. He has left it to you. Take my bones with you into battle. Always carry them before the army when it marches. I shall be there. The Scots will know that my bones are with my army and that will strike terror into their hearts.’
‘It shall be done,’ said Edward.
He was thinking, A few days and I shall be King. Piers, my Gaveston, my first act will be to bring you to me.
As though reading his thoughts the King said, ‘Never recall Gaveston without the consent of the nation.’
Edward did not answer. One must not make promises to a dying man.
The King did not notice. The light was fading fast.
He was murmuring something. Edward bent close to listen.
‘Let my bones be placed in a hammock … carry them before the army … Let the Scots know I am there … and I will lead my army to victory.’
That night the end came. Edward the First was dead and the reign of the second Edward had begun.
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