The Price of the King's Peace

“Is that so ill, in the end? For you? At least Edward cannot now afflict you by his disobedience and resentment.

As King of Ireland he will no longer trouble you. And will be a sore thorn in the English flesh.”

“Your Grace’s pardon,” Boyd interjected heavily, “but I fear that it is less simple than that. The Lord Edward sends a courier, Sir William de Soulis, the Butler, to inform His Grace of all this.

And to seek more men. Aid. Money. Food. Horses.”

“Mother of God-he does?” Bruce cried.

“After this, he turns round and seeks my help!” The King actually barked a harsh laugh.

“Edward! Edward would! Save us-that is my brother, to be sure!”

“What will you do, Sire?” Hay asked.

“What can I do?” Bruce took a pace or two back and forth.

“The deed is done. I cannot undo that. I can refuse him aid. Recall all Scots forces from Ireland. Leave him to his Irish. That, yes.”

He paused.

“But … will it serve me any advantage? Serve Scotland’s cause? Good, or ill?”

“You will not further support him, Sire!” Douglas exclaimed.

“Now! After this …?”

“Let me think, Jamie-let me think, a mercy’s sake. I must think, even if Edward does not! Poor Ireland, with an unthinking king!” He looked up.

“Sir Robert-how does my nephew say? My lord of Moray? His judgement in matters of state I ever esteem.

Did he reveal his mind to you?”

“He did not make so bold as to send advice, Your Grace,” Boyd answered carefully.

“But he did say that, though you would be angry, wrathful, he did not believe that you would break with the Lord Edward. That though your cause suffers set-back in this, all may not be loss. That you may still use him, and the Irish, to your advantage.”

“Aye. So I begin to think also. He is a long-headed wight is Thomas!

And how think yourself, man? Your counsel also I value.”

“Since you ask, Sire-I say likewise. Send him support. Possibly but little. But promise more later, on condition that he moves south forthwith against the English, with all speed and strength. Before they can learn of this, and send reinforcement from England. Since you cannot unmake this king, use him while you may. It will not bring about your peace treaty. But it could weaken your enemies.

Which is always profitable.”

“There speaks good sense. I thank you, friend.” Bruce smiled

grimly.

“Was that why you came so fast? From Ireland. To reach me first So that I should not, in my wrath, say what could not be unsaid? Refuse all support? And so, in haste, injure my cause?”

The other looked uncomfortable.

“Not so, Sire,” he said gruffly.

“Or … but little. I came swiftly that you should have the tidings

from your own friends. The more so in that I mislike William de

Soulis!”

“Ah. Very well, Sir Robert. I thank you, whatever your reasons.

Now, refreshment…”

So Bruce was well prepared when, two days later, Sir William de Soulis, Lord of Liddesdale and Hereditary Butler to the King of Scots, nephew of the late Guardian, came riding into the camp outside the walls of Berwick with quite an imposing cavalcade, all under a great banner bearing the three golden crowns of Tara, on blue-a device not seen in Scotland for centuries.

The King received him in a grassy hollow at a bend of Tweed.

But however ready he was for the other’s mission, he was scarcely prepared for his manner and style.

“Greetings, Sire!” the newcomer called, after the considerable trumpet flourish.

“I, William de Soulis, Lord of Liddesdale in the Kingdom of Scotland, and Earl of Dundalk in the Kingdom of Ireland, bring greeting and God-speed from the mighty, puissant and gracious Lord Edward, by God’s grace High King of All Ireland, to the illustrious Lord Robert, King of Scots. Hail!”

Bruce blinked.

“All that?” he wondered.

”Between brothers, Sir William, is that not… too much? “It was the

other’s turn to blink. But he was a suave and quick witted man,

handsome, florid, courtly and not easily put out.

“Your Grace has heard?” he wondered.

“Heard that His Grace your royal brother is now King of Ireland?”

“Aye, friend-I have heard. Though not that he had started to make earls so soon!”

De Soulis bowed.

“My poor worth over-valued,” he agreed smoothly.

“But the greetings I bring are none the less hearty. I bring them with love and esteem.”

“I would esteem them more, sir, if they were offered in more seemly fashion. I am not used to receiving greetings from seated subjects, while I stand!”

Hastily de Soulis dismounted, and his entourage with him.

“Your Grace’s pardon. I was conveying greetings from one monarch to another. As envoy.”

“Sir William, on Scottish soil you are the servant of one monarch only. Lord of Liddesdale -nothing else. Save my household butler! Remember it!”

“Yes, Sire. To be sure. I crave pardon.”

“As you ought, sir. Now-deliver my brother’s message. But as my subject.”

“H’mm. As you will. His Grace of Ireland sends royal greetings and fraternal affection. He informs you that he has accepted and assumed the crown of All Ireland, duly offered and presented by O’Neil, King of Tyrone, with the Kings of Munster, Leinster, Meath and Thomond, and other sub-kings and lords of that realm duly assembled. For the welfare of that kingdom, the better prosecution of the war with England, and for the good alliance and support of your realm. To such end His Grace offers a treaty of alliance between both equal realms, of mutual support and aid of all kinds, against all and soever. This in love and esteem. God save the King!”

“Indeed! Which king?” Bruce observed mildly. And when the other did not answer, went on, “Why did my royal brother not inform me of such assumption of this throne?”

“Inform, Your Grace? But surely … surely you knew? That it was possible. Mooted. Long since. Surely you knew that?”

The King eyed the other searchingly. De Soulis seemed genuinely surprised. It was quite possible, quite in keeping, that Edward might not have informed even his closest associates that he had not told his brother of his monarchial ambitions and secret moves. In which case it might be wisest to let de Soulis remain in ignorance of the fact.”

“I should have been informed of the impending coronation,” he said carefully.

“Who knows, I might have wished to grace it by my presence!”

De Soulis shook his head.

“That His Grace did not confide in me. No doubt there was an urgency, Sire. No time. It would have taken many weeks to bring Your Grace to Dundalk.”

“No doubt.” Bruce let it go.

“Well, Sir William,” he went on, as though terminating the audience,

“you have brought your tidings and my brother’s greetings. For which I

thank you. I now must needs consider my reply, for you to take back

to

“But, Sire-there is more.” The other looked concerned.

“Ah.”

“Yes. In return for this proposed alliance of the two kingdoms, this aid in your war against England, His Grace requires aid also.

He requires trained cavalry, with the horses. Arms. Money. Also

provisions-for there is famine in Ireland. He requires these from

“Requires, sir? Requires.”

“Requests, Your Grace. In exchange for Ireland’s adherence to your cause.”

“So! May I remind you, Sir William, that my brother went to Ireland as my lieutenant. To prosecute the war. To force a treaty from England. He took 6,000 of my subjects-mine, not his. And I have since sent more, with the Earl of Moray. Thus far, I have done the paying, provided all. With little result. Save, it seems, to win a throne for my brother! At my charge. Yet now he requires more from me, men and money. In exchange for his support! Here seems to me to be strange bargaining, sir!”