The Steps to the Empty Throne

Bruce, his arm still in the royal grasp, bowed; but his glance was only momentarily on the Queen’s narrow, keen features, before sliding off round the room. He found Elizabeth by a far door, and their eyes met, and held, for seconds. Then, almost imperceptibly, she shook her head and looked towards the Queen.

He nodded, as briefly, and bowed again.

“Your Majesty,” he said “So here is the Lord Robert, of whom all speak,” Margaret of France exclaimed.

“Come to grace our Court at last. You have been long in coming, my lord.”

Philip the Fair’s sister was less beauteous man her brother, but she was almost certainly a stronger character. A pale, thin, almost gaunt woman in her mid-thirties, over-dressed, she had fine eyes, though darting, shrewd. Edward Plantagenet, in his late years, might have acquired a tartar.

“Had I known of your fair presence, Majesty, I might have come the sooner.” It was a long time since Robert Bruce had made that sort of remark.

”La—a flatterer! They did not tell me that you were that.

Come, and let me judge if that is all you are!” She held out a slender hand for him to kiss.

“Robert once was one of the gayest of my train, my love,” Edward said.

“He has a sober look to him, these days. Perhaps we will cure him of it, eh?”

“I scarce think you will, Sire. But I may. With a little help … from others!” The Queen raised her voice.

“Elizabeth I Where are you hiding, girl?”

The idea of Elizabeth de Burgh hiding anywhere was sufficiently bizarre to bring smiles to most faces. She came forward unhurriedly, head held high, a striking, proud beauty, aware of her own potency. Her blue eyes looked directly at none of them.

“You two are old friends, are you not?” the Queen said.

“I have met my lord,” Elizabeth acceded, coolly.

The King chuckled.

“They were near affianced once. And might be again!”

“In Your Majesty’s mind,” the girl gave back evenly.

“And to other lords, likewise.”

Edward’s smile faded for a moment, and then returned.

“Say that my Majesty’s mind is ever heedful for your welfare, lass,” he said.

“Eh, Dickon?”

Richard, Earl of Ulster, who had followed them in, inclined his handsome head, but did not otherwise commit himself—though he eyed his daughter sidelong.

Queen Margaret’s quick eyes were busy all around.

“You, my lord?” she said to Bruce.

“How goes your flattery now?”

“I flatter none. Your Majesty, or other,” he answered, taking his cue from the girl.

“I admire the Lady Elizabeth. Who would not? But I would not presume to claim close friendship.”

“You are cautious, sir. I am disappointed. I mislike cautious men!”

“I have need to be cautious, Madam. My first meeting with this lady, I tipped her out of her litter. She named me witless dolt.

And … and masterful ape I I think she has not forgotten. Nor, I’ faith, have I!”

“So!” Intrigued, the Queen was all eagerness, looking from one to the other. Bruce perceived that he had probably overdone it.

“You did not tell me, Elizabeth. Shame on you I Here is a notable tale I Tipped you from a litter? How long ago? It is years since you have seen him, is it not? And you have thought of it still? And he …!”

Bruce had not anticipated being grateful to Edward Plantagenet;

but that paladin did not enjoy being in less than the centre of the stage for long, and intervened now.

“You must have mercy on the Lord Robert, my dear. He has ridden far.

Sir John will conduct him to his chamber, and refreshment.

That he may the better grace our table. We eat, lad, within the hour …” The royal gesture to St. John was not to be mistaken.

At the banquet which followed, Bruce was given the place of honour-which did little to calm the turmoil of his mind. He sat between Edward and his son—which at least meant that he was spared close inquisition by the Queen, who sat on the monarch’s left. Edward of Carnarvon, Prince of Wales, had grown from boy into young man since last Bruce had seen him and proved to be a secret-faced, diffident youth of eighteen, who all the time kept a wary eye on his father—as well he might. Bruce found little to say to him. He had had no opportunity for a private word with Elizabeth—and now she was seated at some distance, with so many great lords and prelates requiring precedence. Her father was on the Prince’s left hand, and Lancaster, holder of five earldoms, on the Queen’s right.

Edward remained amiable, almost alarmingly so, pressing food and drink on his guest. So far there had been no hint of reproach, much less condemnation. Nor was there any hint of what was behind this change of front, what the Plantagenet required from him. That it did not all proceed from the essential kindness of his heart, Bruce had little doubt.

At length, when the meal had progressed to the stage of picking, toying and drinking, with entertainment from tumblers, jesters and musicians, the younger man was driven to direct questioning.

“Sire,” he said “you have brought me here for good purpose, I have no doubt. What do you require of me?”

The other looked at him as though astonished.

“Why, Robert—your good company and presence. Your love and leal esteem.

What else? Is that so stranger” “You have been fighting me, hunting me, burning my lands, taking my castles. I see little of love and esteem in that. Why have you changed?”

“Because circumstances have changed, boy. Then we were at war, and you

chose to go against me, to my sorrow. Now there is truce. I hold this

land, South Scotland, in my hand. And shall soon hold the North. All

is changed. You have lost much. No longer is your insurrection any

threat to my peace. I may allow my natural affection for you to prevail. Did not Sir John tell you all this ? Is it not proven by my tokens of goodwill offered ?”

“I conceived there to be something more, Sire. Your Majesty is namely for hard bargaining!”

“You say so? But, that is when I am fighting. When I have won, it is otherwise. Think you I cannot be magnanimous?”

“You believe that you have won, then?”

“Should I not? I sit here in Linlithgow’s hall, secure. My armies straddle the land.”

“There is a deal of Scotland north of Forth.”

“No doubt. But I have conquered it before. And can do again, if need be. It is my hope that I shall not have to.”

“The North will not yield tamely. If that is what you hope.”

“You think not? But… you have yielded, have you not?”

“No, Sire. I have not yielded.”

“No?” Edward turned in his great chair, to eye the younger man wonderingly.

“Do my eyes, my wits, fail me?”

“I came under the safe conduct of an honourable man, Sire.

Sir John de St. John. Who vowed, in your royal name, that I could turn and go again, freely, should so I decide. I came, in time of signed truce, to discover your mind. Further to what St. John told me. Is that yielding?”

The King toyed with his goblet, narrow-eyed.

“But you came, my young friend—you came!” he said softly.

“I came, yes. But I did not bring my brothers, Sire! If by mischance I am prevented from returning to them, there are four of them still to head the Bruce power!”

“What Bruce power?”

The other took a quick breath, but was silent, biting his lip.

“Let us not misjudge, my young friend,” Edward said, then.

“Between power and love. Esteem. You nave no power. None left. But my esteem and love can raise you again. High. High as you must needs be if you are to counter John Comyn.” He paused.

“Let us look reality in the face, Robert. It has ever been my custom.”

“I

have, perhaps, more power left than you believe.”