David the Prince - Scotland 03

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David the Prince - Scotland 03 Page 36

by Nigel Tranter


  He was halfway across Fife thereafter, heading for the Tay estuary and another ferry opposite Dundee, with only two companions now, Walter de Lindsay and Simon de Frizell, when they encountered more couriers. These were not in fact looking for the King but for the Countess of Fife at Kennoway, for whom they had heavy tidings. Her husband Earl Constantine, was dead. He amongst many. There had been a great battle, at Stracathro in the Mearns. The rebels were defeated, with great slaughter - but at grim cost to the royal forces. The Earl Cospatrick of Dunbar was also slain, with many Norman knights.

  David, almost dropping with fatigue, demanded details, with lips which would scarcely form words.

  The battle had been the day before, it seemed, near the ford of Inchbare, and had continued almost all day, so hardly fought was it. Undoubtedly it was the Norman cavalry which the Constable had to thank for final victory. When the rebels had eventually fled the field, they had left over four thousand dead behind, including their leader, Angus, Earl of Moray. His brother Malcolm MacEth, and Malcolm Earl of Ross, had escaped apparently. On the loyalist side the deaths were greatly less, perhaps one thousand — but included many illustrious besides the Earls of Fife and Dunbar.

  Leaving the couriers to carry their sad story to the widowed Countess, David proceeded on his way northwards, although in less haste now, heavy at heart at the loss of so many of his subjects, even those in rebellion, and including his own brother's son. Particularly, of course, his good friend Cospatrick, a sore blow. The relief of victory was too dearly bought. He ought at least to have been there when his friends were dying for him, in hazard himself...

  Two days later David held a council at Brechin, only a few miles from the battlefield, to thank all concerned in the victory and to deal with the results. At this, he learned for the first time that Fergus of Galloway had been involved, and fighting on the wrong side - a shock indeed. He was amongst those who had made good their escape. There were loud demands for his apprehension and punishment, even his execution as a traitor, along with the other surviving leaders of the revolt, including Malcolm MacEth and the Earl of Ross. But David countered this attitude. He pointed out that he had a kingdom to rule and the realm's wounds to heal, not to exacerbate. Mercy and forgiveness, as well as being incumbent upon a Christian monarch, were likely to achieve more for all concerned than revenge and harshness. He would certainly forfeit the earldom and mortuath of Moray, meantime, from Ethelred's descendants - although as one of the ancient lesser kingdoms of Scotland, he could not suppress it altogether. But Angus had been very much the ambitious one, the trouble-maker, and his defeat was so shattering that there would be little danger of another Moray rising for long. Young Malcolm MacEth had been a good subject until this lapse. Let him be warned, but go free - so long as he kept away from Moray. As for the Earl of Ross, he was a weakling and something of a fool. Let him roost in his far northern fastnesses; anyway, they had no means of extracting him therefrom. He too was unlikely to risk troubling them again. And Fergus of Galloway was Henry of England's son-in-law, and had just had his illegitimate daughter married to King Olaf Morsel of Man. He was a grave disappointment and something of a danger, no doubt - but he might well be more of a danger if drastically punished. He must be dealt with, shown the error of his ways; but not so direly as to upset his royal in-laws.

  Not all present fully appreciated this attitude.

  They were discussing the reported death of King Sigurd Half Deacon of Norway, and how this might affect the West Highland coastal regions, with the Hebrides presently under Norse rule - for Sigurd had proved a reasonably good neighbour, so much better than the late and unlamented Eystein, and his son Magnus was an unknown quantity - when there was an interruption. Hugo de Morville came hurrying into the hall or the rath where the council was being held, weary and travel-worn. He made straight for David's chair.

  "Sire," he said tensely, "the Queen! She is sorely ill. Her strength failing. She asks for you. If it is possible for you to come

  The King was on his feet before that was finished, his chair knocked over with a clatter. "God's mercy!" he exclaimed. "Matilda!" He grasped Hugo's arm fiercely. "How ill, man? What is wrong with her? She was sick, yes - but it was only some woman's ailment, she said."

  "It is a wasting sickness, Sire. And a grievous pain . . ."

  He had to all but run after his friend, who was striding for the door calling for horses as he went, the entire council on its feet, staring.

  As they pounded southwards thereafter, lashing their mounts into even greater efforts than on the northern journey. David cursed himself, cursed Henry Beauclerc, cursed Angus MacEth, cursed cruel fate and his own decisions, which had kept him from Matilda's side in her sore need. He prayed as well as cursing - but somehow it was the cursing which tended to prevail; for despite his friends' assertions, almost accusations, he was but a sorry saint, and a poor son of his sainted mother, more of his father in him than he liked to contemplate. Even using the ferries again, they had about one hundred and twenty miles to ride to Rook's Burgh, so there was no lack of either form of mental activity for comparison.

  That night, at Kincraig Point on the Fife shore, impatiently awaiting the arrival of the ferry-boat crew, David did not so much as close his eyes, although his friends managed to snatch an hour or so of sleep. Hugo, needless to say, had been all but asleep in his saddle, for long.

  They reached the March Mount in late afternoon. Stiff as he was, David flung himself up the stairs to their bedchamber, glaring at the long faces of the servants, even brushing aside young Henry and Erna who tried to cling to him. But in the room itself he was pulled up sharp, his panted breath catching in his throat.

  He scarcely recognised his wife, so pale and gaunt and shrunken was she, only her fine eyes the same, if not larger, and dark-rimmed. He had been gone only three weeks, but she had changed almost unbelievably from a slender but well-built, shapely woman to a mere frail shadow of herself, wan, brittle-seeming. But her great eyes were at least open for him, even lightened at sight of him.

  "David! Thank God, thank God!" she whispered, and managed to raise a thin white hand, although it dropped back on the bedclothes in the same motion.

  "My heart, my love, my most dear!" he exclaimed, and came to the bedside, to sink on his knees and gather her into his arms. Their children stood at the door, in wide-eyed distress and uncertainty.

  He could scarcely keep himself from crying out at the scanty, fragile feel of her, so frighteningly different from what he knew so well and loved so dearly. He tried to speak, but his voice broke.

  "Dear David ... I knew . . . that you would come ... in time! I waited . . . waited . . ." "No!" he choked. "No!"

  "Yes. I could not go. . . without you ... to hold me, David. I was. . . afraid. But. . . not now. Not... in your arms." Clearly she had great difficulty in speaking.

  "Hush, lass — hush!" he said, stroking her hair, kissing her damp brow. "Do not talk now. Later. Just let me hold you. . ."

  "I must. There is ... so little time. . . left. Here. Time in. . . plenty. . . where I go! I waited ... for you here. I shall. . . wait for you again .. . there."

  "Oh, my dear heart . . . !"

  "So much to say. Yet . . . cannot. You . . . understand, David?"

  "Surely, surely, lass. Do not fret. Are you in pain?"

  "Not much, now. That... is past. If it comes again... I can bear it . . . with you holding me. I needed you . . . you see."

  "And I failed you, God forgive me! I did not come."

  "No. You are . . . the King. You had to ... do your duty. And you came ... in time. David - hear me. Huntingdon. It is become ... a millstone. It served us well. We did much with it. But now ... it costs you dear. Let it go, David."

  "But ... it is our children's heritage."

  "Then give it to. . . Simon. It has become a trap. For you. . . for Scotland. Do not hold it . . . for my sake."

  He shook his head.

  She was silent for a long
time thereafter, her eyes closed, her breathing quick, shallow. He thought that perhaps she slept. Then she was gripping his arm again, if feebly.

  "David - you are still there? God ... be praised! I thought... I thought. . . It will be. . . soon now. Soon. David. . . never

  change. Be true. To yourself. Ever. Kings so often . . . change.

  Henry. Do not let power . . . change you. Dear David."

  "No. No. But hush, lass. Care nothing for that now. Rest you”

  "Time enough ... to rest . . . hereafter. The children . . ." She stopped suddenly, stiffened in his arms, her breathing catching in a choking groan of pain. It did not seem to resume. Frantically he clutched her, afraid that she was gone, until he realised that her heart still beat, and he all but wept in relief.

  But if not gone. Matilda seemed far away now and there was no more of the difficult talking. Presently he gently disengaged, smoothed her damp hair and arranged the bedclothes. He moved quietly over to the young people. He talked to them, low-voiced, incoherently sought to comfort them, he who had no comfort in him. But he did not leave that room. He would not leave it again while still she had need of him.

  When darkness fell, he sent their children to their beds, and went to lie beside his wife in the lamplight, arms around her. He did not mean to sleep, but he was desperately tired. Matilda had not spoken again, eyes closed.

  He must have dropped off almost immediately.

  He wakened to her strange jerking, in the small hours of the morning. She was mumbling incoherently, and gasping through it as though being strangled, a horrible sound. Then suddenly she spoke out lucidly, perfectly clearly.

  "Now, David - now! It is time. Hold me close. I go now. Hold, hold! I will be waiting, looking for you. I am not frightened, not frightened, not . . ."

  She shuddered and shuddered and died, held tight in his arms, as she had wanted. And he was left alone.

  25

  WORK, LABOUR, TOIL, action, stern almost unending application, as to a treadmill — like many another before him, David mac Malcolm drove himself, to fill his days and much of his nights, with occupation and busyness, in order to drug himself with fatigue, so that when he came to throw himself down on his bed at length, he might be the less aware of what was no longer there, his irreparable, searing loss. For months on end he laboured as though possessed, while his children, his friends and his officers, eyed him askance, fearing almost for his sanity.

  And yet, he was never more effective, more capable, more decisive. No problem was too much for him, no obstacle too great, every challenge to be not so much accepted as grimly welcomed. In the year after the Queen's death, Scotland was hurled into a new age by orr man's feverish energy and dogged determination.

  And there was no lack of work to his hand, with all his plans for his realm - their plans, for always Matilda's influence was close, often she seemed to be at his very shoulder, for so many of the plans they had concocted together. Yet, strangely, he deliberately did not carry out one of those last urgings of hers. He did not give up the earldom of Huntingdon, either to young Earl Simon in Normandy or to King Henry. He thought much on this, and decided against it. Its revenues were just too valuable for what he was doing. And why should he hand Henry Beauclerc or Simon's uncle of Aumale what they both were undoubtedly scheming for? His beloved Matilda in this misjudged, he believed. She was right in that Huntingdon had become something of a millstone and trap for him, as King of Scots. But the answer was not to throw it away, surely, with all that it could do for Scotland; but to counter the danger and use it to best purpose. He would indeed resign the earldom, so that he could no longer be summoned ignominiously to Henry's side like a vassal - but he would bestow it on his son and heir, Henry's namesake. The boy was now nearly sixteen, and mature for his years. Henry Beauclerc's own children were married at his age. Time that he was taking his part. Admittedly this would not affect the necessary fealty for the English earldom; but so long as young Henry was below the full age of twenty-one years when, and not before, he could enter into outright possession of the earldom, he would have to be represented in it by a deputy or viscount - and David was sure that King Henry would get little satisfaction from summoning such deputy before him at intervals, since it was undoubtedly the King of Scots he aimed to humble and embarrass. Sheriff Gilbert could very well serve as viscount.

  So an investiture was held at Stirling, and young Henry was formally created Prince of Strathclyde, as heir-apparent to the throne, and Earl of Huntingdon in the room of his father. And while they were at it, the youth was officially stated to be claimant to the earldom of Northumbria - as sign to Henry Beauclerc not to refuse to endorse the Huntingdon position, or he might stir up a hornet's nest. Northampton no longer was to be involved in such manoeuvres, for Simon de St. Liz had come of age two years before, and David had thereupon resigned his titular holding - although Henry had refused to ratify the earldom to Simon whilst that young man remained in Normandy.

  But this, although an important development, took up but little of the King's time and energies. The great labour was the setting up, at least in outline, of the parish and diocesan system whereby the whole of Scotland's administration, either of justice, local government or taxation, was to be revolutionised -indeed, there had been precious little coherent administration hitherto, save what individual lords imposed of their own whims. This process would take years, of course, generations probably; but a start had to be made, and the detailed planning done, if all was not to be haphazard and chaotic.

  In this, strangely enough, David found it considerably more simple to found and set up dioceses than parishes. He had a Primate and Bishop of St. Andrews, now, competent to consecrate and instal new bishops, and a supply of fairly suitable clergy from his fine new monasteries; also funds, and the power to allocate royal lands and revenues to the said sees - even though some of them would remain little more than names and titles for some time to come. So, in addition to the dioceses of St. Andrews, Glasgow, Dunkeld and Moray, already in existence, new ones were established at Galloway, Brechin, Aberdeen and Caithness, for a start. Others would follow later. These locations were selected each for good reason - Galloway, so that David would have legitimate excuse to take action, if necessary in Fergus's lordship, and also to counter any claims of the new

  English Bishop of Caer-luel towards Candida Casa or Whithorn; Brechin in the Mearns mortuath, because, after the Stracathro battle, it had become most evident that this area much needed some such influence, for here the Celtic Church was notably strong and reactionary and had been inclined to support the rebel Angus; Aberdeen for much the same reasons, for though the Earl of Mar had not joined the revolt, many of his people had; and Caithness, to have a good influence on the Earl of Ross and the far North.

  But the dividing up of these dioceses into parishes was much more difficult, at least as meaningful entities; hundreds of parishes, and almost all, at first, without churches or clergy, their borders sketchily defined, their responsibilities and privileges vague. But the idea, which was largely David's own, thrashed out in many a long discussion with Matilda and Bishop John, and owing only a little to the English system introduced by the Normans, was never in doubt. One day it would be a manageable, working scheme, to the enormous benefit of the entire kingdom and its people, not just its rulers. It was not the religious aspect of this great project which was concerning David meantime; that was for the churchmen to implement, and would have to await the availability of trained clergy - although the Columban clergy were pressed into service meantime, of course; it was the dividing up of Scotland into recognisable and official sections and small territorial units, irrespective of the great domains and lordships of the barons and chiefs, where the royal writ, not the lord's, would run and the ordinary people's needs and well-being be catered for. Indeed this was one of the main objects of the exercise, the limiting of the powers of the great nobles, as against that of the Crown - David having had ample demonstration, in Eng
land, of the overweening might and tyranny of the Norman barons and the dangers to the throne.

  Needless to say, in all this, he had less than enthusiastic support from most of his nobility.

  As example, he set up a parish structure at Ednam, or Edenham, on the edge of the Merse not far from Rook's Burgh, where an able small landowner named Thor was already working an excellent manor system and had built a small church. David imposed a tithe or tiend arrangement here, from the produce of the lands, for the support of a parish priest from Jed worth — and to show the way, dedicated a tenth of his own personal revenues to the Church. So, in effect, this became the first parish in the land.

  Parallel with the parish plan he envisaged a system of burghs, for urban settlements. There were already burghs in the land, mainly havens and ports like Berwick and Inverkeithing, or the castletons of raths and duns, like Dunbar or Edinburgh. But these were only burghs in name. Now seats of population would be regulated and encouraged, for the increase of trade and crafts, given duties and privileges, but also required to pay customs for the royal revenue. They would have councils to govern themselves, in many respects, with even some judicial functions in minor offences, to relieve the realm's justiciars, set up by King MacBeth. Indeed, MacBeth's reforms were a great help in David's plans; although after that enlightened monarch's death, his successors, David's own father and brothers, had allowed much to lapse.

  As well as these many ordinary burghs, great and small, he moved to establish more important centres, with special powers delegated directly from the Crown - again to counter the dominant tendencies of great lords - and these would be called king's or royal burghs. Usually they would be castletons of royal palaces and forts - such as Rook's Burgh and Dunfermline — but not only such.

 

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