The Steps to the Empty Throne

“Then… then what? What will you do?”

“Do what I must,” Bruce answered grimly.

“Go. Retire before him. Give up Lochmaben again. Play the craven I Give Comyn cause for glee I I can do no other. I cannot hold this castle against Edward—even if I would. I cannot fight him in the field, with hope of success. Even survival. So I retire. It is simple as that.”

“Where? To Ayr? Lanark? Turnberry?”

“No. Edward could follow to any of these. But we think that he will not go so far as Stirling. There is the best battle-ground of all Scotland. So to Stirling we shall go. Lamberton keeps his Church host watching Stirling. Scrymgeour, with Wallace’s people, will come there. Comyn is there. Bruce must needs go also.

If a stand is to be made, it should be there. We retire to Stirling.”

“Aye. That is best. And quickly.”

“Tomorrow. At first light. No sleep for us this night. Nor for the townsfolk. For they must go. Flee again into the hills or Edward will visit his wrath on them. But—by God, we will play Edward’s own game, this time! Sir Nicholas Segrave and his captured men go with us. And I leave a letter for the Plantagenet.

Any slaughter of my people of Annandale, and Segrave hangs.

With his garrison. Every one. Come—we have work to do…”

The driving late-November rain blattered against the small half-shuttered windows of Torwood Castle, on the high ground above the plain of Forth, and the wind shook the doors and lifted the reeds and rushes strewn on the stone flooring of the draughty hall. Comyn had not so much as thrown off his soaking cloak, and drips from it fell on to the parchment, to the distress of the clerks, as scornfully he added the flourish of his signature to the document.

“Here’s a waste of ink and paper!” he declared.

“What worth in it? Think you Edward of England will pay heed to such as this? I say he will throw it on his fire!”

“Yet it will have been worth the sending, my lord—even if he does so,” Lamberton insisted, stooping to append his own signature.

“For it will strengthen our hands with the Holy See, and with the states of Christendom. To have said that we nave made the offer of truce. See you, Edward’s claim is we are rebels. fits lieges in rebellion. This letter makes it clear to all men that we write as the Guardians of an independent realm. After receiving this, though he may spurn it, yet he cannot say that we have accepted his over lordship—we, who act for the King of Scots.”

“Bah I Clerkly ha vers Sir Bishop! Words written on paper, however fine, will no more affect Edward than a fly on his sleeve.

The sword, and a strong arm behind it, alone does he recognise…”

“He recognises the wrath of Almighty God, sir, with the power of Holy Church to display it!” the Primate said sternly.

“He recognises His Holiness of Rome, and his spiritual powers. He is much at his devotions these days, my lord of Carrick has heard.

And this offer of truce is, in fact, written as much for Pope Boniface as for Edward Plantagenet. The copy which goes to Rome may achieve more than that which goes to England. I work for the threat of excommunication.”

Bruce, who had already signed the impressive parchment, spoke—but carefully addressed his words to Lamberton only.

“Moreover, my lord Bishop, although Edward would wish to reject this, he may find it convenient. He is much at odds with his lords. He cannot proceed further against us meantime, without their aid. He has already returned to Berwick from Lochmaben.

A truce might serve him well enough. Give him the time he needs to come to, terms with his earls …”

“Aught that serves Edward well can only serve us ill,” Comyn interrupted.

“We are not all so concerned to please him!”

Wooden-faced, evenly Bruce went on, still looking only at the Primate.

“If he accepts this letter, this truce, and acts on it, even to his own advantage, it is more to ours. Not only giving us time also. But it commits him to dealing with us as a sovereign kingdom, not as rebels. Here is its importance. Before all men. We loudly make it known to all Christendom. Copies to all rulers. If Edward accepts the truce, he accepts our right to make it. Yet if he does not, he will seem to do so. For he cannot invade us again, with any hope of success, until next spring. And until he has won round his lords. So we have him, by this. Lochmaben was but a gesture. Brief, unimportant, to save his face…”

“Is Bruces face the fairer for that gesture?” Comyn barked.

”To have yielded his own castle, without a blow I To the man who paid

his debts …!”

“God’s mercy—can you see no further than your nose, man?

At least I did win my siege of Lochmaben. While you sit still around Stirling!”

“My lords! Such talk is unprofitable and ill becomes you.”

Now that he was Guardian himself, Lamberton could and did speak with a greater authority. He picked up the parchment.

“My lord of Carrick is right. This is carefully worded. Edward would be wise to read it as carefully, before he throws it in his fire!” As device to cool the suddenly risen temperature, he commenced to read the preamble:

To the Lord Edward, by God’s grace king of England, by the Guardians and community of the realm of Scotland—greeting.

William by divine mercy bishop of St. Andrews, Robert Bruce earl of Carried and John Comyn the younger, Guardians of the kingdom of Scotland in the name of the famous prince the lord John, by God’s grace illustrious King of Scotland, appointed by the community of that realm, together with the community of the realm itself … “A spate of words I Vain puffing words!” Comyn scoffed.

“Sound and repetition. To bring me from Stirling, for this!”

“Words, in affairs of state, may speak as loud as a drawn sword, my lord. We declare hereafter that King Philip of France’s truce with Edward, signed at the Peace of Paris,” required that all prelates, barons, knights, towns, communities and inhabitants of Scotland should be included in the truce, and all hostages given up. We declare this clause has been broken. We therefore request King Edward to comply with these terms forthwith. To retire from Lochmaben and from Scottish soil. And to enter into a collateral truce with this realm. If he does so we are willing to desist from all aggression of England during the period stipulated.”

The Primate waved the parchment.

“We know that he has, in fact, already withdrawn from Lochmaben Castle, though leaving an English garrison. So now he will seem to have carried out this demand. He is no longer on Scottish soil, nor like to be for six months at least. He has now wed the King of France’s sister. Therefore he cannot declare the Peace of Paris void. I saw mat he may burn this letter—but in the eyes of the world he will seem to have heeded it. Is this not sufficient merit to bring a Guardian of Scotland eight miles from Stirling, my lord?”

Comyn shrugged, for once at a loss. But only for moments.

“That is as may be,” he jerked.

“We shall see how tender is Edward to empty words. But … you have your paper and my signature. Let us have it sealed and be done. For I have more important business. At Stirling.”

“What do you do at Stirling, these long months?” Bruce asked, as though interested.

“Is it not something tedious? Sitting there?”

“Sitting I Who sits? Stirling is not some defenceless, decrepit hold I It is the greatest fortress in Scotland. Or England. A-top a rock four hundred feet high. But… I have it in my grasp now. It will not be long. Now that Edward has turned back, they will not survive. No food has reached them for five months. I promise you they will yield before the year’s end. Our next meeting, I say, will be held where it ought to be. Not in this rat’s-hole but in the palace of Stirling.”