The Price of the King's Peace

“Much time. Many men. Too great an undertaking …”

“Not so. Give me but 5,000 men and I will win Ireland for you.

and quickly. Our own Galloway, Carrick and Annandale men, and some chivalry. Have the MacDonald put us over the water in his galleys, before he goes raiding.”

“I say this is folly, my lord,” his nephew Thomas Randolph, Earl of Moray, contended, the most level-headed as well as the most handsome young man in the kingdom.

“A new war. Across sea.

This would be a mighty adventure. But is it what we would have today?

To win Ireland could take years. A sink for men and ships.

When we require swift results …”

“I tell you-give me but 5,000. Less. And I will have an Irish host facing the South of England in but weeks.”

“There is sense in this,” Angus Og asserted. It was not often that the Lord of the Isles and the Earl of Carrick agreed.

“At such invasion, Ulster would rise, you may be sure.”

Bruce smoothed hand over mouth. Angus and Edward made a formidable

coalition: and the Islesman knew Ireland better than any there, since

it was in Ulster that he was apt to earn his living, with his broadswords and galley-fleets hired for the interminable clan wars.

“Ulster is not Ireland,” he mentioned.

“The south is very different. And it is the south which would count, in this. Besides, brother-you it is who I would look to lead this dash deep down into England.” This, in fact, had by no means been the King’s intention, for Edward was far too rash a commander to entrust happily with so disciplined a thrust as this must be; but the command would undoubtedly appeal to him-that went without saying-and would probably wean him away from his Irish ambitions.

The other looked thoughtful.

“This we can do, then,” the monarch went on.

“At no great upset to our realm. The Irish adventure can wait. My brother of Carrick, and Sir James, Lord of Douglas, to make the dash for the south, my Lord of Moray at their backs to guard their flanks and retreat. Sir Gilbert, the High Constable, and Sir Neil Campbell of Lochawe, with Sir Robert Keith, the Marischal, to command more general and shallow raiding into the English North. While the Lord of the Isles, Lord High Admiral, and the Earl of Ross, harry the coasts southwards. Is it agreed?”

“At least it could be noised abroad, in the North of England, that the French are like to invade across the Channel,” Lamberton suggested.

“No harm in that-and it would add to alarm. Soon reach London’s ears.”

“When do we ride, Sire?” Douglas asked.

“So soon as we can muster the men.”

“Numbers?” Edward jerked.

“For your company? How many do you want? To make a swift, tight, manageable force? Strong, but not too large.”

“Six hundred. Well mounted.”

“Very well. And you, Thomas?”

“More, Sire. Since I will require to divide, flanks and rear. And

hold a corridor secure. Two thousand.”

“Yes. As I would have said, myself. So be it.”

There was excitement in the great chamber now, men stirring in their seats. Bruce had to call for silence.

“My lord Chancellor,” he said, “the next business?”

At a parliament the Chancellor acted as chairman, with the monarch merely present in a presidential capacity; but a Privy Council was the King’s own meeting, and the Chancellor only acted as secretary. Bernard de Linton, Abbot of Arbroath, was young for such an appointment, young even to be an abbot; but he had one of the shrewdest brains in the kingdom, and Bruce had never regretted his choice of him, even though it had offended more senior clerics who coveted the position of first minister. A long-headed, lantern-jawed man, with hair receding and smouldering dark eyes, he sat at the King’s left hand.

“My lord of Carrick’s claim to be appointed heir to the throne, Your Grace,” he said, tonelessly.

The stir round the table now was different, with new elements in it, discomfort, some resentment, as well as tension. All eyes were on the two brothers.

“Ah, yes,” the King nodded.

“This matter has been raised before. But without decision. You would speak to it, my lord?”

Edward cleared his throat.

“You all know the position,” he said abruptly.

“This rejection of our peace treaty makes it the more urgent The King is no longer young. He has these bouts of sickness.

And war is still our lot. The succession must be assured-and he has only a daughter. The Lady Marjory has now returned to us.

We all esteem her well. But she would make no monarch for Scotlandany can see that. This realm requires a king, and a strong king-not a weakly lassie as queen. In peace as in war. None can gainsay that. As next male heir, I say that, for the good of the realm, the succession should be settled on myself. Herewith.” He ended as abruptly as he had begun.

“You have heard, my lords. The situation is known to you all. I shall value your advice.”

“Your Grace, it is not for us to decide this matter,” David, Bishop of Moray objected.

“Only a parliament may change the succession. With your royal approval.”

“True. But a parliament will need guidance. I believe the next

parliament would approve the decision of this Council.”

“If, as God forbid, our liege lord was to be taken from us,” Lamberton observed, “would not a strong regent serve the Queen and the realm almost as well as a strong king?”

“No!” Edward barked.

“There is a world of difference.”

“Admittedly, my lord. But that difference need not be to the hurt of the realm. Or to the hurt of an already much-wronged young woman!”

“Aye! Aye!” That evoked considerable agreement.

“She may marry. What then? How would the Queen’s husband esteem a

regent over them? There would be factions, divisions, parties. This

kingdom is sufficiently divided. I say only a king’s strong hand can

unite it.” “With all respect to the Earl of Carrick,” James Douglas

said, “I hold that it is wrong, shameful, even to consider this change. The throne is the Lady Marjory’s birthright-unless a son be born to His Grace. What right has any, save God, to take it from her?”

“Well spoken, Sir James!” Hay supported.

“Nevertheless, it could be the kindest course,” Sir Alexander Comyn, Sheriff of Inverness, pointed out reasonably, an elderly grave-faced man.

“The princess might well be the happier. Would the position of a young and inexperienced queen be so enviable?

This kingdom will not be a sure and settled one for many a year.

Let us hope King Robert is spared to see it so. But, if not, how would it be for the Lady Marjory? Even with a strong regent. She might thank you to be spared the crown, I think.”

Men considered that, thoughtfully.

“Surely, above all, the desires of two persons require to be considered in this,” the Earl of Moray put in.

“Those of the lady herself, and of His Grace. Lacking that knowledge, how may we decide?” He looked at his other uncle.

Thus appealed to, the King sighed.

“It is a hard matter. My personal desires, my love and affection for my daughter, my duty to the realm-all are here at odds. My daughter has suffered terribly.

I would now deny her nothing. And yet-could her hand steer this realm? As to her wishes, it is too soon to have put it to her. For my own desire, then I would say-if she marries and bears a son, I would wish that one day he wore my crown.”

A murmur of understanding and sympathy greeted that.

“It could be so,” Edward took him up.

“The Act of Succession passed at a parliament could be so written. Myself as king. The Lady Marjory’s son, if such should be, thereafter king.”

“And if you had a son, brother?” The King did not add the adjective ‘lawful’, there, as he was tempted to do-for Edward had indeed recently had a son by the Lady Isabella Ross, whom he had omitted to many. The wronged lady’s father’s snarling noises from down the table made the point for him, however.