Margaret the Queen

by Nigel Tranter

  The King acceded, shrugging, but asserted that they would waste their breath; but to tell the Normans that he preferred fighting to talking.

  So Maldred rode back with the reconstituted truce-party consisting of the Queen, Cospatrick, Edgar, Duncan and himself. Out to meet them came Moubray again, with Robert Courthose, looking older and distinctly dissipated, with some others. The Duke at least seemed somewhat put out at seeing Margaret.

  Cospatrick took charge, from the start. "Greetings, my lord Duke," he called. "I rejoice to see you well and survived the perils of sea and storm! And through you we salute your brother, King William."

  Robert nodded. "Yes. I thank you. And greet the Queen's Highness. But — I do not see King Malcolm."

  "He will join us if King William does. But he would have us to declare to you that he would himself prefer to resolve our differences with the sword rather than in talk."

  "So why are you here, my lord?"

  "Because I prefer speech to bloodshed!" the Queen said strongly. "As, I think do you, my lord Duke?"

  "Perhaps, lady. But . . . the speech has to be to some effect."

  "Certainly."

  "We bring proposals of sufficient effect," Cospatrick went on. "Prince Edgar of England, here, offers much. My liege-lord Malcolm is prepared to make suitable terms with yours. And even I, in my humble state, can make my contribution. If you can do likewise."

  "We — or my brother's Highness — need to make no concessions, my lord," Robert returned. "We hold all in our hands."

  "Do you, sir — do you? I suggest that you look behind you! You are a long way from home. I have a fresh army here. But think you that is all I have? All Tweeddale and Teviotdale and the Forest, all Liddesdale and Eskdale and the March, is mine, not only this Lothian. Many men, many mounted mossmen, to assail your flank on your homeward march. If I give the word. Then Cumbria — my son Dolfin, yonder, is Earl of Cumbria. I see that you have Sir Robert de Moubray there, who sits in my earldom of Northumbria. Ask him what the Cumbrians can do. If we do not talk here, like reasonable men, thus we fight. And whether you flee home thereafter, defeated, or march home victorious, you have that to face. Myself, I would not relish it."

  Robert Courthose did not answer that. He turned in his saddle, to confer low-voiced with Moubray.

  Margaret spoke again. "My lords, need we talk such foolishness? When all may better be settled amicably. My royal husband is prepared to make the same terms as to fealties with King William as he did with your royal sire. Is that not sufficient? And he will no longer seek to support the claims of my dear brother here to the English throne — since the Prince Edgar himself is prepared to resign all such." And she turned to her brother.

  The reluctant Atheling managed both to shrug and nod at the same time. "I have here a paper," he said flatly. "In it, I make resignation, for myself and my heirs, for all time, of my lawful rights to the throne of my ancestors. It is William's, if so be he returns now whence he has come, without bloodshed. And restores to me my properties in Normandy. I can do no more."

  Again silence.

  Duncan spoke up. "My lord Duke, your royal brother has in the past honoured me with his friendship, released me from hostageship, even created me knight. In this coil I remain his true friend. I urge that he does not draw sword now. And I promise that what endeavour I may make, now and hereafter, will not falter in his favour and honest interest."

  "Well spoken!" his father-in-law cried cheerfully. "So say I. On my soul, I would even agree to swear fealty to William for my earldom of Northumbria again!" And he grinned wolfishly at Moubray. "Go tell your brother so."

  Robert looked from one to the other assessingly, and when Moubray began to speak angrily, cut him short with a chop of his hand.

  "Wait," he said to his party, and reining round, spurred his mount back to the main array.

  The two truce groups sat facing each other three or four yards apart, in mutual disesteem, only Cospatrick apparently at ease, Margaret relapsed into withdrawn silence.

  They had to wait quite some time before the Duke came riding back. He spoke even before he had halted his horse, almost relievedly.

  "The King's Grace is prepared to consider the pleas you put forward. He will see the King Malcolm."

  "Good," Cospatrick answered. "Only — we make no pleas. We treat."

  "Call it what you will, man. Fetch Malcolm."

  "We do not fetch the High King of Scots, sir . . ." Cospatrick began, when Margaret intervened.

  "I shall go bring him," she said quietly.

  Maldred went with her.

  They found the King less than grateful, almost truculent. "I bowed no knee to the Bastard of Normandy," he declared. "I will not do so for this puppy of a son!"

  "Do no more than for his father, Malcolm," the Queen said. "It will not hurt you to do as much. That is all that is required. Now that William has conceded thus far."

  "I will offer fealty only for my lands in England."

  "Do that, then. Pray God it will suffice . . ."

  So they rode forward again. But when Malcolm saw no sign of Rufus coming out from his host to meet him, he reined up and would go no further. So they waited, half-way out to the others. Then, after a few moments, a group moved out from the English front, under the royal standard. These came half-way to their own truce-party and there halted. Snorting, Malcolm rode a hundred yards or so further. Rufus did the same. Neither was going to be seen waiting for the other.

  At length they were able to make their arrivals exactly at the same time.

  William Rufus was a red fox of a man, narrow-featured, lean, suspicious-looking, bearing little resemblance either to his father or his brother. He wore magnificent armour of gold-plates, and a gilt helmet surrounded by the jewelled fraises, or strawberry-leaves, of a crown. Facing him, Malcolm Canmore seemed to resemble the hulking boar held above him as standard, grizzled head bare. They weighed each other up warily.

  "You invaded my realm," Rufus jerked, at length.

  "You invade mine, with less cause," Malcolm gave back. "For the earldom of Northumbria, which I entered, belongs by right of birth to my cousin here, Cospatrick."

  "That I deny. And I cannot invade a realm of which I am overlord."

  "If you are overlord here, prove it!"

  "I came to do so. Then my brother told me that you would speak, make representations, renew your broken allegiance." William had difficulty with his spirited horse, which sidled continually.

  Margaret spoke "I greet you, King William. It is good and suitable that you and my royal husband should speak together not as enemies but as Christian neighbours. How is my good friend, the Archbishop Lanfranc, whom I heard was ill?"

  "Poorly, lady — but poorly. But I have not come here to discuss the health of clerks!"

  Margaret swallowed this snub, with only an inclination of the head. "I am sorry to hear of the noble Archbishop's sickness. I pray for him — as no doubt do you, my lord King. He was a tower of strength to your father's throne."

  "No doubt. Now to business."

  "As you will. King Malcolm owns twelve vills of land in your English shire of Huntingdon. Of these he has for some time been denied the revenues. He desires that these be fully restored to him. Before proceeding further. He may not beseech them at your hand, lord King — so I do so, that all may be eased."

  Rufus looked from one to the other, seeking to fathom this peculiar situation. "Yes, yes," he acceded. "The lands and revenues shall be restored."

  "I thank you. You have my brother, the Prince Edgar's offer of resignation of his claims? And his request for the return of his Normandy lands?"

  "Yes. This also I accede."

  "That is well." She looked at Edgar, who edged his horse forward and held out his paper to Rufus without a word.

  Equally wordless that man took it, and without glancing at the writing, handed it to one of his attendants for scrutiny.

  Prince Duncan raised his voice. "I greet yo
u well, my lord King."

  "Ah, yes — and I you." The first hint of cordiality sounded in William's voice. Unmarried, he was believed to favour the company of young men to that of women.

  Cospatrick spoke. "What of Northumbria, my lord King?"

  "Nothing!" Rufus snapped. He turned to Malcolm. "Well?"

  His fellow-monarch shrugged. "I make the same oath which I gave to your father — none other. I make fealty for my lands, held of you." He raised his hand. "This I swear."

  The other blinked. "And... and... ?"

  "If you would have it, your enemies are my enemies. That was it. That is all." And without another word or any valedictory salutation, he tugged his garron's head round and rode off alone. Taken by surprise, his standard-bearer hurried after him.

  The rest of them eyed each other, and William, who chewed at his thin moustache. There was a pregnant silence, broken presently by Cospatrick.

  "My castle of Dunbar stands yonder, Highness," he said. "You are welcome to my poor hospitality. And we could, perhaps, discuss Northumbria in comfort."

  "I thank you — no!" Rufus answered, scowling. And he too rode back whence he had come, his people turning to follow, tongues busy.

  Margaret looked unhappy. "Will it suffice?" she asked of Maldred, low-voiced. "I did the best that I could, over the English lands. Malcolm gives not one inch, placates nothing. Will this William accept what he said?"

  "His father did, at Abernethy. And his brother did, at Ecclesbreac," Maldred mentioned.

  "He will," Cospatrick asserted. "Short of battle, he can do nothing else — and he will not fight now, I think, having got thus far. He knows this is a bad place for battle. He will turn back. With ill grace — but he will go."

  Duncan said, "Shall I go speak with him? Assure him that he has made none so ill a bargain? One day, it may be me he has to bargain with!"

  The Queen looked at him thoughtfully.

  "Do that, lad," the Earl said. "And remind him that so long as Northumbria remains a contention between us, he will sleep less peaceably than he might!"

  From his expression as he rode off, the younger man would not convey that message.

  He did not return to the Scots camp until late that evening, distinctly drink-taken. But he declared that King William would march south in the morning.

  Malcolm neither thanked his firstborn nor showed relief.

  IF SCOTLAND HAD a major escape in 1091, she was less fortunate in the year following. Magnus of Norway, smarting from his previous repulse, made a renewed and large-scale assault on the Hebrides at mid-summer, this time first having come to an arrangement with the Orkney brothers whereby their domains were left in peace and in return they did not oppose him or involve themselves. As a result Malcolm was grievously handicapped, for he had never possessed a real battle-fleet and in any war at sea he required allies with many ships. His nominal representative in the Western Isles was the Earl Somerled mac Gillaciaran of Colonsay; but unfortunately he was a kinsman of the Orkney earls and made only a token resistance to the Norse invaders. Malcolm was largely dependent on the birlinns and longships of the west coast Highland chiefs to transport and back up his forces, and found them inadequate. One by one Magnus took over the islands, great and small, without major battle, Iona itself being one of the first to fall, the monks fleeing to the mainland. As this process continued, the mainland chiefs grew ever less inclined to provide men and ships for their Lowland and south-country monarch, who normally never looked in their direction.

  Maldred was only indirectly involved in this protracted campaign, for the King ordered Cospatrick and his forces to occupy Galloway, to ensure that the manpower, and especially the fleet, of that province was not used against him by the Earl Erland, the governor; and also to threaten Man, where Godfrey Crovan had died and his son Laoman was now king and might think to join Magnus. It was a very large area to cover, from the Solway up as far as Ayr, and cut up by arms of the sea. Maldred was given the northern section to watch.

  It was in August that, judiciously and no doubt well-informedly, William Rufus struck. For once, Cospatrick had no warning, deep in Galloway. The English poured into Cumbria in overwhelming strength from three different points, carrying all before them. The first Cospatrick knew of it was when his son Dolfin arrived at Kirk Cuthbert's Town in haste and alarm, seeking his father, to declare that William himself was approaching Caer-luel with a huge army.

  Cospatrick wasted no time upbraiding his son for leaving his post, but sent for Maldred and every man he could bring, gathered his forces from all over Galloway, and marched south.

  But it was of no avail. William had taken Caer-luel and was holding its fortified position in major strength. Cospatrick, never foolhardy, halting at the Esk, recognised that he could not retake the place, plus the general hopelessness of the present situation. He had lost Cumbria meantime, as Malcolm was in process of losing the Hebrides. Presumably William had decided that his claims to Northumbria should thus be countered.

  Heedfully he withdrew his forces, to establish a defendable line in Liddesdale and over the Cheviot passes into Teviotdale and Tweeddale, in case William had further ambitions. It was a long line to hold, and taxed his manpower to the utmost.

  The news, when it reached Malcolm in Argyll, confirmed in that man the grim recognition that the fates, for the meantime, were against him. The Hebrides were only of nominal and prestige value to him; and it looked as though his whole kingdom might be endangered. He should be elsewhere. He sent messengers to Magnus Barefoot on Islay, seeking peace terms — and was informed by that monarch that nothing would more gladden his heart. All that was required was a cession of the Hebrides to Norway outright. That acceded and their long-standing friendship would be unconfined.

  Cursing, Malcolm signed away his Western Isles — and that, in effect, meant also his north-western mainland seaboard, for it was dominated from the sea and cut off from elsewhere by endless mountains. Then, with the autumn colours beginning to stain the Highlands with their annual miracle, he hurried his army back to Fortrenn.

  William Rufus did not attack further that year. Indeed he departed for the south before very long, amidst rumours that he was ill — he had never been a man of robust health. But he left behind a large garrison at Caer-luel, and many artisans building a mighty Norman fortress-castle, of the kind his father had erected on the Tyne, as indication that he was there to stay. Also major occupation forces at strategic points all over Cumbria.

  In one disastrous season, Scotland had lost thousands of square miles of national territory, however tenuously held, to north and south.

  * * *

  In consequence, with the country in a state of serious unrest, Malcolm did something he seldom troubled with — he held a council-of-the-realm. And, to the surprise of all, he held it at a venue never formerly used for the like, the ancient Pictish fort of Dunedin, skied on top of its soaring rock above the small town of Edinburgh in the centre of Lothian. It was a most odd place for such a gathering, in almost every way, windy and bleak in the late October weather, with only tentage as used for campaigning, as shelter, to cover the attending nobles and churchmen amidst the crumbling ramparts. Admittedly they were to be quartered and fed down in the cashel or monastery of St. Ninian, at the foot of the narrow, mile-long spine of hillside which led from the lofty summit, on the east, to the base of Arthur's Chair. But it was an inconvenient location for the great majority of those present — who of course came from across the Forth and the Scottish Sea, and looked upon Lothian as barely in Scotland anyway, handy as it was for Cospatrick and his people. Actually, that man was grimly amused by the King's choice of Edinburgh for the occasion, asserting to Maldred that it was in the nature of a warning and gesture at himself, indicating that he should watch his step and not think that he was master of all south of Forth.

  Almost one hundred attended the council, few in very cheerful or uncritical frame of mind. Scotland's fortunes were at their lowest ebb for ye
ars and scapegoats might well be looked for. Prince Duncan was not invited, but came with Cospatrick's Lothian and Borders group nevertheless. Maldred had not expected to see the Queen there, for she had been unwell — indeed while he had been away in Galloway, Magda had been at Dunfermline aiding in nursing Margaret, her verdict being that the Queen was suffering from nothing more nor less than sheer exhaustion and lack of strength, through malnutrition arising from her everlasting fasting, penances and night-long prayings. At this council she had to be helped to her chair beside that of the King by her sons Edward and Ethelred, looking heartbreakingly fragile and wasted.

  Malcolm strode in, late, to a flourish of trumpets, but otherwise opened the proceedings at once and without ceremony. He called on Bishop Fothad of St. Andrews, the Chancellor.

  That amiable old man uttered a brief prayer for God's blessings on their deliberations, then declared that this high council was called to consider the present unfortunate state of the realm, in respect of the aggressions of the Kings of England and Norway; and to advise the King's Highness as to how best these wrongs could be righted and redressed. Also what steps were necessary to prevent further incursions against them. But before the discussion, there was a matter of procedure. As all present knew, the Earl of Fife was premier earl and mormaor of Scotland, and entitled to lead in debate and make the first vote in council. Duncan MacDuff had died, full of years; but unfortunately he had been predeceased by his only son Dufagan (the drunken brawl in which the latter died did not merit mention). Next in line was Dufagan's infant son Constantine. But it was inconvenient and unsuitable that the realm's chief earldom, and support of the crown, should be in the hands of a helpless child. The King's Highness therefore deemed it right and proper to appoint as Earl of Fife, until the child Constantine mac Dufagan came of full age, his own well-beloved and esteemed son, the Prince Ethelred, Abbot of Dunkeld and Primate. This for the information of the council here present.