Bruce jabbed a pointing finger at the giant.
We all know it. But it is not so with us, my lords. They offer to treat with us. I say treat, then, in this situation. I know Surrey. I know Percy, his nephew. I know Clifford, of Brougham. These are not of Edwards wits, or Edwards ruthlessness. I would not say treat with Edward Plantagenet, God knows! But these are different. Treat.
Talk. Discover what is in their minds. What worries them. Something does, I swear. Gain time. This, I counsel you, my lords.
And let Wallace go fight his own war. With our blessing!
An extraordinary change had come over the arguing company.
Without warning, as it were, young Robert Bruce had established himself as a leader-not merely the highest in actual rank there, but a man who had come to know his own mind. He had not convinced them all, by any means. It is doubtful, indeed, if many fully understood or accepted what he said. But suddenly he had grown in stature before all. It was as though a new voice had spoken in unhappy Scotland. And more important even than the voice was the manner.
There is much in what the Earl of Carrick declares, Bishop Wishart said, into the hush.
I believe he has the rights of it.
I, too, the Steward nodded.
There is wisdom in this. I agree.
And I do not! Wallace cried.
I agree with my lord only in this-that the English will hang me if they can I For the rest, I say that you deceive yourselves. Myself, I waste no more time, my lords. There is much to be done. It you will not do it, I will. I give you good dayand naught else!
I am sorry for that … Bruce began, and paused. The big man, turning on his heel, had halted as the priest, Blair, came hurrying in, to speak a few words in his ear.
Wallace looked back.
You have company it seems! Company I would not care to meet. They approach under a flag of truce. I do not congratulate you, my lords. I have no stomach for supping with the devil! I am off.
And I with you, Sir John the Graham cried.
Moray of Bothwell took a single step as though to follow them, but drought better of it.
There was a stir of excited talk at the word of the English approach.
The debate was not now whether to receive them, but who should do so, and on what terms. There was no more agreement on this than on anything else. In the end, the entire company trooped out of the millto find the Englishmen, with Sir Richard Lundin of that Ilk, to the number of about thirty, assembled in the yard outside.
The two groups stared at each other, for a little, grimly wordless.
Then a tall, willowy young man, who sat his horse under the proud blue and gold banner of Northumberland, held just slightly higher than the white sheet of truce, dismounted, his magnificent armour agleam in the afternoon sun. Thin-faced, pale of hair and complexion, almost foxy of feature, he scanned the assembled Scots, his manner nervous-seeming. At sight of Bruce his glance flickered. At his back, another man got down, slightly older, dark, solidly-built, heavy-jawed, tough-looking. The rest of the English remained in their saddles. Lundin came round to stand amongst his compatriots.
I am Percy, the willowy young man said, in a voice as high and reedy as himself.
I come in the name of my uncle, John de Warenne, Earl of Surrey, Viceroy of this Scotland.
None answered him.
I am Clifford, the darker man declared harshly.
Warden of the West March.
The English West March! That was Douglas, who himself had been the Scots Warden of that March.
The West March, the other repeated, flatly.
Sir Henry Percy, Lord of Northumberland, looked quickly away from Douglas. His glance was of the darting sort. Now, insofar as it was directed at any, it flickered around Bruce.
My Lord Robert, he said, I regret to see you here. And added, with a little cough, Kinsman.
Bruce smiled briefly. Their relationship was of the most distant sort, and had not been stressed hitherto. He took it this mention implied some need felt by the Percy.
I am nearer to my earldom of Carrick, here, my lord, than you are to your Northumberland! he returned.
I am the Sheriff of Ayr, the other said.
Edward of Englands sheriff! Douglas countered.
The Kings Sheriff. As I am the Kings Warden! Clifford jerked.
Englands king. Not Scotlands.
Percy and Bruce both cleared their throats at the same time, and caught each others eye. Clearly there was as much difference of temperament and approach between the two Englishmen as between Douglas and Bruce. Clifford, son of Isabel de Vieuxpont, of Brougham, one of the greatest heiresses in the North of England, was another plain soldier nevertheless, who spoke his mind.
Percy had not come to speak his mind, it seemed. And he took precedence in rank, and as representing Surrey. It was perhaps not Bruces place to speak, for although he was the only earl amongst the Scots, the Steward was one of the great officers of state, as well as an initiator of this revolt, and the Bishop of Glasgow was senior in years. But neither Steward nor Bishop raised their voices, and much might depend on what was said now. Also how it was said.
You ride under a flag of trace, my lords, he observed.
I
think you did not bring that to Irvine to discuss offices and positions?
No. That is true. Percy nodded, with apparent relief.
We have come to discuss terms. To, to offer you an … accommodation.
Terms?
Accommodation? We are not suitors for such, my lord.
Then the bigger fools are you! Clifford barked.
We learn from Sir Richard Lundin that you would know more fully what
we propose. Percy went on.
And what do you propose?
That you, who are rebels, surrender on terms. Generous terms, I say.
Clifford was making his position very clear.
Surrender, sir? Without a blow struck? In our own land? To an invader? Bruce kept his voice almost conversational.
Surely you misjudge, my lords.
By God, we do not! We could crush you rebellious dogs like that!
Clifford snapped his steel-gauntleted fist shut eloquently.
But have not yet attempted the feat, sirrah! I would think that the time to talk terms or surrender is when one or other is prostrate in defeat?
Percy waved a hand.
Sir RobertI will speak. In the name of the Viceroy. If you please. He coughed again.
If we do battle, my lords, we must win. We know your numbers. We have many times as many. You are brave men, no doubt, and would fight well. But the end could not be in doubt. Do you wish to die? Is there need for so much bloodshed? Amongst fellow-subjects of King Edward?
There was a muttered growl at that. Douglas hooted.
You all have sworn allegiance to Edward, Percy reminded.
Even my lord of Douglas!
Under duress, man! How much do you value such swearing, Englishman?
Forsworn traitors! Clifford cried.
What use talking with such? Their word is valueless. They will break faith whenever our backs are turned.
No one attempted to deny it.
But Percy was made of different metal, no less sharp perhaps for being more pliable.
You are all Edwards subjects, he pointed out, and raised his hand, as the murmurs began again.
Hear me, my lords. You are Edwards men all. But free men, Not serfs. In feudal duty, yes. But with your barons rights. As have I and Sir Robert, here. We are all Edwards men. But we have our rights. And in England, at least, we cherish our rights not a little! We accept that you should do so likewise.
There was quiet now, as all searched that uneasy-eyed, foxy face.
Clifford kicked at the earth with his
armoured foot.
Percy went on.
We know why you have taken arms against your lege lord. It was foolishbut to be understood. You did this in order that you should not be constrained to fight in the Kings foreign wars. You had been better, my friends, to come talk with us. With your fellow-barons. In England. Rather than put hands to your swords.
The Scots eyed each other doubtfully, since none had so much as heard of this obligatory foreign service before that day. Douglas was obviously about to say as muchbut Bruce spoke quickly.
And what would our fellow-barons of England have said?
Percy licked thin lips.
They would have said, belike, that they were no more eager for the French war than were you, my lords.
And that it behoved all His Highnesss loyal liege men of both realms … The other amended that. … of both nations, to apprise him that this French war was unwise and against the will and judgement of both peoples.
He paused, and this time not even Douglas was for interjection.
All the Scots had cause furiously to thinkBruce none the less because he had anticipated something of this.
So … England mis likes Edwards French war? he said, at length.
That is so. The land has been overlong at war. We are taxed too dear. This new war is too much …
Do not tell me that the English have lost their stomach for war!
Douglas interrupted.
That I shall not credit. Here is a trick …
We are none the less warriorsas you will discover, my lord, soon enough! If you do not listen to reason. But … to start a new and long war overseas is folly. We have had twenty years of war, and more. Our coffers are empty. Our fields untilled.
Our people weary of it.
Yet you come against us. In Scotland. With fifty thousand men! The Steward had found his difficult tongue at last.
You are in revolt. Rebellion must be put down. We are loyal to our King. It is foreign war that we resist. Make no mistake, my lordshere is no charter for rebels! Percys superficial thin hesitancy did not cloak the real man beneath it, there.
But you would have us, the Scots, with you? In this resistance, Bruce pressed him.
Yes. But does not our revolt serve you well enough, then? Is not revolt in Scotland more apt to bring King Edward home than Scotland in submission?
Not so. You know Edward. Revolt will but stiffen his neck.
He lives for war, for conflict, for conquest. Revolt will not prevail with him.
What will, then?
A parliament. A united parliament. Of all his lords and barons.
Not only of England, but of Scotland also. And Wales. Aye, of Ireland. A parliament that speaks with one voice against these wars.
Bruce drew a long breath. So that was it I At last. The English lords would bring their warlike monarch to heel. It had come to that. No revolt, but a rising of a sort, nevertheless. And if such was contemplated, it was not surprising that Percy and Surrey should be in the forefront. For the grandsire of one and the father-in-law of the other, Richard Percy of Northumberland, had been one of the great barons of England most prominent in forcing the Magna Carta on King John. By the same means. A united display by the nobles. And for such a display, now, not only would the Scots nobles be valuablefor Edward had declared there was hereafter only one realm and one parliament; but the English nobles must have their men readily availablefor their own protection. Edward would listen to their voice only if it was backed by the power he understood. So they wanted no revolt, and no armies or occupation, in Scotland.
Bishop Wishart was speaking.
We may wish you well, my lord. But why should Scotland aid you in this? Edward fighting in France would serve us better than Edward home, and angry!
Aye! Aye!
Not so. The yoke would be greatly eased for you. Side with us, in this, and we swear you shall gain by it. In earnest of which, my uncle, the Viceroy, will already ease many of your burdens.
If you accept his terms.
He had their interest and concern now. Men talked with their neighbours, low-voiced. Douglas was still declaring it was all a trick, however.
I say Douglas is right, Andrew Moray asserted, in Bruces ear.
I do not trust this Percy a yard! And even if it is not a trick, why
should the Scots aid the English lords? It is all to their advantage
…
Ours alsoif we play it right, Andrew. Besides, nothing is changed in our case, here. We still cannot fight fifty thousand, and win. Here is occasion for talk. Much talk.
Too much talk I Wallace had the rights of it.
The Steward raised his voice.
These terms, my lord of Northumberland, that you spoke of? What are your terms?
The terms are the Viceroys, my lord. They are light, I think.
Such as you can surely accept. To return to the Kings peace, only this is necessary. That you disperse your men-at-arms. That you deliver up the murderer Wallace. And that you commit to us certain hostages, as assurance for your continuing loyalty. That is all.
That did not fail to produce animated debate. Looked at from one aspect, these were indeed light terms. Of course the men must dispersebut they could be reassembled, if need be, in a matter of days. As for Wallace, he could look to himself. But what was meant by hostages? That was the question on every lip.
Half a dozen voices asked it, aloud.
Percys glance flickered like lightningand this time notably avoided Bruces.
The hostages need not be many, he said.
But they must be of worth. Substance. Of notable consequence. They must come from the greatest among you. From the Earl of Carrick. From my lord of Douglas. From my Lord Steward. And my lord Bishop or Glasgow. These.
There were caught breaths. Also, undoubtedly, some sighs of relief from the unnamed.
These you name? the Steward asked, thickly.
What hostages?
A cough.
From you, my lordyour son and heir, Walter Stewart. From Douglas, his heir. From the Earl of Carrick, his infant daughter. From the Bishop, all precious relics from the cathedral of Glasgow.
Out of the exclamations, Bruces voice rasped.
You make war on children and babes, then, my lord!
Not so. These hostages will suffer nothing. Indeed they will do very well, better than here in Scotland, I vow! They will lodge with kinsmen, in England. Secure. Honoured guests. Your own daughter, my lord, shall lodge in my own house of Alnwick.
Where also now lodges the Lady Elizabeth de Burgh, my cousin-whom you know of! The Stewards son, Walter, may also lodge theresince his mother is likewise a de Burgh. Is it not so, my lord? Sir William of Douglass wife is the lady Eleanor de Louvain, from Groby, in Northumberland. She may return there, with her children. In the state of Scotland today, will they not all be better so disposed?
It was specious, but clever. In one respect, all the Percy had said
was true. The families of men in revolt were always in danger. If
those required to yield the hostages were in fact honest in their acceptance of the terms, the said hostages would indeed be as safe, as well off, so disposed, as at large in unhappy Scotland meantime.
And for the four named to refuse this gesture was to reject the whole terms, to deny and fail their colleagues. None failed to see it.
My daughter is far from here, Bruce jerked.
I cannot yield her to you. She is in my sisters care. At Kildrummy.
In Mar.
Hundreds of miles north of this.
You can send for her, my lord. And meantime, these others-the Steward, the Bishop, and, perhaps, my lord of Crawford-will stand surety for her delivery? Percy almost smiled.
How now? Moray murmured, at Bruces car.
A
re you still for talk with the Englishmen? For terms, man?
The Steward spoke, with an accession of dignity.
This of the hostages is grievous. We will have to consider your terms. And inform you. But we cannot yield Wallace. He is gone.
You can bring him back.
You do not know William Wallace, if you say that! He is his own master. He will come for none here. We can no more deliver up Wallace than fly in the air, sir! You must needs take him for yourself.
Very well. We shall do so. You wish time to consider these terms?
Yes. There is much to consider.
Percy looked at Bruce.
You also, kinsman?
Set-faced he inclined his head.
The Englishman did likewise.
Then we shall go. And return tomorrow. A good day to you, my lords.
And … consider well.
Nodding to Clifford, he turned for his horse.
One word, Percy. That was Bruce suddenly.
In all this we have but your word. How do we know that you do not deceive us? Was my lord of Douglas feared? That other than yourself would resist Edward.
Percys word is sufficient, is it not? the other returned.
But if you require proofask these. He gestured towards those behind him.
They will tell you that two of the greatest earls in England, Norfolk and Hereford, have refused Edwards commands to cross the Channel, with their armies. As contrary to the terms of Magna Carta. Others follow their lead. Is it enough? Or must I name more names?
no It is enough, yes.
When the Englishmen were gone and the debating began again, it was clear the great majority of the Scots were for accepting the terms. Even Douglas appeared to be convinced it was no trickthe news of the resistance of the mighty Earls of Norfolk and Hereford, the Bigods and Bohuns, had stilled even his doubts. He was against the surrender of young James Douglas as hostage, naturallybut otherwise agreed to challenge the English to battle, at this stage, was not politic. Only Andrew Moray remained obdurate.
I will not submit. To these terms, or any, he declared, to Bruce.
My people up in Moray and the North are in revolt. I cannot fail them, here. I will go to them. And you, Bruce? You can stand there and consider the yielding up of your own child?
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