No, he admitted.
That is true. Although … I am tempted! But, nor is it true that I
came seeking your aid, your help.
Why, then?
What I said, woman. I came for love of you, he insisted.
Can you not conceive that a man can see a woman as a friend? Not only desire her body? Even when her body is desirable indeed. I came as a friend, Tina. Is it so strange? You are my very good friend. Have been for long years. Is that not sufficient reason to come visiting you?
She reached out to touch his arm.
Robert-I believe that you mean it. That you do not cozen me!
Why should I cozen you? You, of all women. You, who have cherished me, nursed me, sailed with me, fought with me…
And lain with you! There is the heart of the matter, Robert. A man and a woman who have lain together can never be … just friends. It is not possible.
You say so? I do not see why not. They but know each other the better. You are no less my friend, Tina, that we have bedded together.
No less, but more. Different Otherwise.
As you will. Whatever you say, I have come to Castle Tioram kindly affectioned. I never might speak with you fairly, at the Court. Speak as now. Alone, for any time. To thank you for how you were kind with Elizabeth. When you could well have been other. For much patience. Understanding. And you not a patient woman, as I know well! So I came. From Gigha. In friendship.
She smiled, now.
Then I thank you. From my heart. You are a strange man, Robert Bruce. But you are very welcome to Castle Tioram. Whatsoever your reason for coming. And you keep your own chamber, this night?
God aiding me, woman!
Oh, and I shall aid you also, never fear! With a locked door, no less!
He looked a trifle put out.
No need for that. You may trust me, I think. And no need to sound so keen!
You would have me temptress, Sire?
No-o-o. But you can still be friendly, Tina. It was his turn to
reach out a hand.
A chaste kiss now, would harm none…
I do not give chaste kisses, friend! I am Christina of Garmoran!
One way, or the other. Mind it, sirrah!
Why are women ever so difficult? he demanded, of the last rays of the sunset.
Women are women, she returned.
Not half-creatures. Not Isleswomen, at least! Come you, and I will show you to your lonely chamber.
He grinned.
Elizabeth, I think, would scarce believe this …!
Five days of hunting, hawking, fishing and sailing at Castle Tioram, and much refreshed-and still his own man-Bruce sailed south again. He would have taken Christina with him, to Gigha, but she declared that it would look a deal better if she appeared, a day or two later, in her own vessel.
In the event, Christina and the Queen arrived at Gigha on the same day. Elizabeth was enchanted with all she saw, falling in love with the Hebrides at first sight. Even Marjory appeared to be less abstracted and withdrawn than usual-although Walter Stewart took credit for that.
Gigha was much too crowded now, and a move was made to Angus Ogs
capital of Finlaggan, on Islay, where, on islands in the freshwater
loch of that name, he had a large castle, chapel, hall of assembly, and
burial-place. This was the seat of government of the Isles lordship,
princedom, or as it still called itself, kingdom -and Angus was at
pains to demonstrate to his visitors something of the princely state he
still maintained. He called a Council of Sixteen, consisting of four
thanes, four Armins or sub-thanes, four great freeholders or lesser
lords, and four knights; these, advised and guided by a large number of
people whose right it was-judges, seannachies, chiefs, the Bishop of
the Isles and seven senior priests, plus numerous hereditary officers
such as MacEachern the sword-maker; MacArthur the piper, MacKinnon the
bow-maker, and MacPhie the recorder, sat at stone tables round a
central flat rock on which sat Angus himself. All this on the not
very large Council Island, and in the open air, so that the place was already overcrowded before the distinguished visitors got a foothold. The proceedings were formal and merely ceremonial, a strange admixture of the purely Celtic and the Norse.
Thereafter, however, in his own house, Angus played host in truly princely and utterly ungrudging fashion, almost to the exhaustion of his guests. Every conceivable aspect and speciality of the Hebridean scene was exploited, and day after day of brilliant sunshine and colour was succeeded by night after night of feasting, dancing, music and story-telling. Practically every major island of both the Inner and Outer Hebrides was visited-and under the Lord of the Isles protection the holiday-makers were safe from the attentions of even the most notoriously piratical chieftains, like Mac Neil of Barra, Mac Math of Lochalsh and MacLeod of the Lewes. Iona was the favourite with the ladies; and Staffa, with its caverns and halls like cathedrals of the sea, a close second. So taken was Marjory Bruce with Iona that she insisted on being left on that sacred isle of the sainted Columba, with or without her husband.
Certainly it was beautiful, its white sands a dream, and its little abbey a gem; but the King feared that his death-preoccupied daughter was perhaps morbidly concerned with the serried tombs of her royal ancestors-allegedly no less than forty-eight kings of Scotland, eight Norse, six Irish and even an Englishman, Ecgfrid, King of Northumbria, lay here. Nevertheless, at least she had found an interest in something. Walter and she were left to work it out.
Nearly four weeks of this pleasant lotus-eating existence had passed, when one sultry August day the peace of it was shattered. A small fast galley arrived at Islay from the south, an Irish one this time, one of ONeils. It brought Thomas Randolph, Earl of Moray.
Moray was an able, clear-headed, un excitable man, the last to raise hares or scares. That he should have left his command to come all this way was indicative of some major development.
Bruce, about to set out on a deer-driving expedition on neighbouring Jura, drew his nephew aside when he had raised him from knee-bent hand-kissing.
Well? he demanded.
Less than well, Sire.
Is it defeat? Disaster?
Not that. Not yet…
What, then? My brother-is he well?
Well, yes. Very well…
Then why are you here, man?
I was sent. The Lord Edward sent me. Commanded me to come.
You went to Ireland, Thomas, under my command. Not Edwards.
Aye, Sire. But-in Ireland he commands. Commands all.
He is master there. Much the master. And Your Grace is far away.
Keenly Bruce eyed his nephew.
This is not like you, Thomas, he said.
I sent you, as the one man whom my brother might not over-awe and browbeat. To curb and restrain him, should need be.
And I put all but Edwards own levies, from Galloway and Carrick, under your command. Yet you let him send you back?
Calmly the other nodded.
All true, Sire. But I come not only because my uncle sent me. I came because I believed it best. That you should know what transpires. With the Lord Edward.
Mmmm. Very well, Thomas. Say on.
It grieves me, Sire, to speak so. Of my uncle and your brother.
To seem the tale-bearer. But I believe the Lord Edward works against
your interests, not for them. Always he was headstrong, going his own
way. But this is different. Now he seeks power. In Ireland. Rather
than to defeat the English. And no longer talks of the threat to the
English South. Or of forcing a peace treaty. Now he talks of