Wallaces work, Satan roast him, for a surety! the monarch cried.
The man is no more than a savage beast.
I think not, Sire, Bruce intervened, greatly daring.
Sir William Wallace fights hard. But he would not slay defenceless prisoners. This I warrant. I know him. The night attack, while they sleptthis could be his work. But not the slaying.
Aye, you know him, my lord. All too well! You had the presumption to dub him knightthis oaf, this savage! A mockery of knighthood. But all men know that he is no true knight.
If he is not knight, Sire, then nor am I, who knighted him.
And you knighted me! Bruce swung on the cleric.
You, Master Bensteaddid you see it? With your own eyes, did you see Wallace slay a single captive? Or hear him order it done?
Not… not of myself, no.
Who gave the orders, then?
The Lord of Badenoch himself, Sir John Comyn.
Aye. That I can believe I But Wallacewhere was he…?
This is not a court of law, and Bruce the judge! Edward thundered.
Keep silent, sirrah. Proceed, Clerk.
Yes, Sire. Ralph the Cofferers army was ill led. His people fought stoutly, but Comyn had 8,000 horse. They were forced to yield …
Forcedbah! What forced them to yield? A craven spirit?
A clerk leading!
Not so, Majesty. I myself saw Master Ralph cut down three before he yielded. But he had ridden into a trap. He tried to retire, in the narrow valley, but could not. He was captured, with much bootypayment for Your Majestys garrisons. At the monarchs fight for breath, Benstead hurriedly went on.
Scarce was the fighting over when the third division, under Sir Robert
de Neville, came up. And again, to free themselves of the prisoners,
the Scots slew all. Even Master Ralph himself. I heard him pleading
for his life, to Sir Simon Fraser who had captured him, claiming his
priestly immunity. But the dastard Scot pointed to his armour and said
lewdly that he trusted to this rather than to Gods protection, and
that the sword he had yielded up was bloody. Then this blasphemer, Fraser, drew his own sword and struck of? first the Cofferers left hand, then his right, and finally, with a single great blow, his headGods curse on him everlastingly I This I saw.
Sim Fraser! That renegade, whom once I cherished! Edward exclaimed.
You see, my lord of Carrick, how much faith is to be placed in the Scots?
I see, Sire, men at war, fighting for their lives and land. As Your Majesty has done times a many. May I ask Master Benstead how fared Sir Robert Neville?
The cleric shrugged.
What chance had he? Unawares he rode to his death. He and his fought well, and long, but without avail.
This time there was no quarter, no prisoners taken. Save for a few who escaped by flight, all died.
Out of 20,000 who left Berwick, how many survived, man?
Other than a handful of frocked priests!
A few hundreds, perhaps, Highness. No more. I was exchanged.
For three Scots knights, held at Berwick…
Ayeand scarce a good bargain! Enough of this, then. Sit down, man. The King pointed at Bruce.
Now, my Scots lordwhat have you to say?
The younger man looked about him, at the others, and spread his hands.
What is there for me to say? I have accepted Your Majestys peace.
Am I to be responsible for those who have not?
I condemn this slaying of prisoners. What else can I say?
You can admit that the Scots are of all men the most perfidious and vile I Ingrates. Liars. Assassins. Brute-beasts to be stamped underfoot as I would stamp on an adder! Admit that, sirrah!
Bruce remained silent, tightlipped.
So! You will not? You disobey my royal commandpreferring your animal countrymen! So you are one with them.
And deserving equally of my righteous retribution. That, if you will not admit, you cannot deny.
I do deny it, Sire. Since returning to your peace I have kept your peace. What more would you have me to do? By coming to you, I have forfeited any sway mat I had in Scotland …
I will tell you what I would have you do. What you will do, Robert.
You will end this soft and idle living which I have allowed you here. You will come back to Scotland with me. And aid me in what I should have done long ere this. Aid me in the destruction of that evil land! Hitherto I have been merciful. I will be merciful no longer. And you will be as my right hand, Robert Bruce! You hear?
The other bowed stiffly, wordless.
Edward sat back.
Here then is my decision. From this day, the armies will assemble. The greatest force that England has fielded. No excuse for service will be accepted from any lord, baron, knight or prelate in all my realms. This Shrove-tide carnival, and all such fancies, are cancelled. The whole nation will march with me. And with the Earl of Carrick I And when we return, Scotland will be but an ill memory. This is my command.
My lordssee you to it. The King heaved himself to his feet.
Speechless, men rose, to bow.
As an afterthought, Edward jerked.
The Earl of Carrick to be escorted to his quarters, forthwith. And there guarded. Well guarded.
The assembly, set for York, took months. It was not only the gathering in of hundreds of thousands of men and horses and equipment from all over England and Wales, even from the English provinces of France; it was the collection of a fleet of ships, in the Tyne and Tees estuaries, and the loading of supplies sufficient to maintain such vast numbers of men in a devastated land for many months. It was early May before the mighty host began to move northwards.
Inevitably it moved slowly. But there was no hurry. Nothing could possibly withstand so enormous a concourse of armed men, nothing even delay itsave only its own ponderous size and weight. Some said that there were 250,000 men; but who could tell, or try to count so many? By its very size and complexity there was little of the atmosphere of war and fighting about the expeditionthe more so in that Edward had brought along his Queen and she her ladies. Many of the great lords did the same.
Elizabeth de Burgh, although no longer the Queens principal
lady-in-waiting, was still one of her entourage, and as such
accompanied her husband. Bruce was not exactly a prisoner, as had
almost been his position in the South; indeed superficially he might
have seemed an honoured member of Edwards Courtsave that other men
now were chary indeed of any association with nun. But he was well
aware how closely the King watched him, now iron-firm was the hand
which gripped as well as sometimes patted his shoulder. For Edward,
after his first rage, had behaved with a bewildering inconsistency towards the younger man, affectionate one moment, mocking and spiteful the next, but ever keeping him close as a son-closer indeed man he kept Edward of Carnarvon, Prince of Wales, a young man for whom his father appeared to have little regard. This inconsistency was, however, a surface thing. Bruce, like Scotland, was to be humbled, all men knew.
After a final inspection of shipping at Newcastle, the expeditionary force moving only a few miles a day, came to Morpeth on the 9th of May, there to split up. The Prince of Wales, with Lancaster and Surrey to aid and advise him, was given 100,000 men and sent to chastise Scotlands West. He took, more or less as hostages, Nigel, Edward and Alexander Brucethe latter two having been for most of the last year at Cambridge University with him, where King Edward, in his gracious period, had sent them at his own expense, ostensibly out of kindness but more practically to keep them out of Scotland. Edward Bruce and the Prince had become friendly at universitybut few believed th
at the association would have scope to ripen.
The monarch, with the main body, held to the east side of the country, crossing the Border and reaching Roxburgh in early June.
As was to be expected, there was no fighting. In fact, they saw Scotland smoking long before they reached it. Wallaces guerillas had had plenty of notice. Methodically they destroyed before the advancing English. There was little for Edward to do-although his outriders ranged far and wide, seeking any unburned territory, any un ravaged land or village, savaging, hanging, crucifying any refugees or wretched hiders that they came across. Only the abbeys, monasteries and churches had been left intacta pointless scruple, since they were more worth harrying than almost any other property. The destruction of arable land was difficultbut river-banks could be broken down, for flooding;
dykes, ditches and mill-lades levelled; cornfields systematically trampled; orchards hacked down; wells poisoned. All that would burn was burned. Again there was no hurry; all could be done thoroughly.
At this rate it took the force a full fortnight to reach Edinburgh.
Here the fortress had never been relinquished by the English, and the townsfolk, under its shadow, had perforce remained quiet, never rising in revolt. But if they expected therefore to escape Edwards heavy hand, they were much mistaken. With judicial impartiality he hanged one-tenth of the magis tracy and leading citizenry, slew one-tenth of the populace by speedier methods, and burned one-tenth of the townalthough, owing to the uprising of a summer wind, rather more than the due proportion of the mainly timber buildings happened to catch fire. All this he forced Bruce to watch, even to seem to preside over, with himself, making jocular remarks about John Baliol, or any who thought to be his heirs, scarcely being likely to consider that there was any kingdom left to plot over.
The Plantagenets treatment of Scotlands notoriously non rebellious city might give the others something to think about.
While this went on, the majority of the invasion forces were carefully laying waste Lothian and the plain of Forth, again despite its record of acquiescence, driving Wallaces men ever westwards but never actually coming to grips with them. There were signs of Comyns chivalry being reported, now, but no battles developed. The Guardian was undoubtedly retiring on Stirling Bridge, there to contest the crossing of Forth in the classic fashion.
But Edward had thought of this. He had his shipwrights build three mighty pontoon bridges, at Kings Lynn, and these had been towed up by sea. Now he had them placed across the river at a narrowing, five miles downstream from Stirling, and had his light horse swarming across before the Scots knew what was happening. Comyn had hastily to abandon his prepared positions, before he was cut off from the rear, and retired at speed northwards.
Wallace and his people were trapped on the wrong side of Forth, and had to take refuge in the far recesses of the Tor Wood where it stretched into the lonely morasses of the Flanders Moss.
And now, as it were on virgin territory, Edward could demonstrate that he had meant what he had sworn in his throne-room at Westminster. Nobody had had time to scorch the good earth of life and Fothrif, nor had most of the folk opportunity to flee.
The Kings peace, therefore, fell to be established in fullest measure.
It was on a late June evening, at Clackmannan, a few miles north of
Forth, at the foot of the steep Ochil Hills, that Robert Bruce lay on
his couch in the glowing light of his handsome tented pavilion,
sprawled but not relaxed. Elizabeth was pressing wine on him, seeking
to soothe and ease the tension that now almost permanently had him in
its thrall, and that was etching hard lines deep in his rugged features. They were alone, as they so seldom were on this ghastly, endless, death-filled progress, no watchful lords, guards, esquires or servants actually in the tent with them. It had been a long and harrowing day.
Comewash the taste of it away with this, my dear, Elizabeth urged. She was strong, understanding, patient, and because of her position and wealth, able to help much. What he would have done without her, these months, he did not know.
He pushed away the proffered goblet.
No. It would make me sick, I swear. My stomach is turned, I tell you! It is too much. I cannot bear with more of this, Elizabeth.
That devil has me beaten, destroyed, damned-as much as he has this
wretched land I All day and every day he grinds me into the dust of his
hatred, even as he smiles and strokes, mocking me. My belly is galled
with his insults, poisoned by his spleen. I tell you, many a time I
have been near to drawing my dirk and plunging it into his black heart
…!
Hush you, hush you, Robert! That girl was not easily scared, but she lowered her voice, glancing anxiously around at the golden-glowing silken hangings of the tent, refulgent with the evening sunlight.
These walls are thin. Watch your words, of a mercy!
I watch my words the livelong day! While Edward slays me with his I My life is not worth the living. My head rings with words I dare not speak. My nostrils reek with the stench of fire, of burned flesh. My eyes see only savagery decked in smiles and laughter, dead mens eyes reproaching meaye, and live mens fingers pointing! Pointing at Bruce, as traitor, as turncoat…!
Not so, my heart. Do not say it. You mistake. It is not at you that men point …
I say it is. Do you think I do not know? All this day I have been with him at Dollar. Doleur, they say the name once was-and God knows it is meet today! Receiving the submissions and homage of barons and landed men from all this Fothrif. Led in, some at horses tails, some bound or in chains, some lashed with whips-receiving them in a nunnery with all its orchards and pleasances hung with corpses. Forced to sit beside him, while men were brought to their knees before him. Think you I did not sec what their eyes said, whatever their lips muttered? They could not look in Edwards eyebut they could look in mine]
Sitting there, his hand on my arm …
It is evil, yes. Grievous. A shameful thing. But you must bear it my love-you must harden your heart. He will break your pride, your spirit. You must not give him the victory.
There is half of Scotland before me, yet. To see stricken.
Crushed. Weeks, months of this venom …
Bruces voice died away as there was a commotion at the tent door, the armed guard clanking weapons. The entrance-curtain was thrust aside unceremoniously, and two men strode inside unannounced, stooping because both were tall. Both were Plantagenets, though one did not bear the name.
Ha, Robert! You rest, lad? Plied with refreshment by fair hands, heh? Would I were in your shoes! My lady prefers to eat sweetmeats and stitch fool threads! Edward bowed gallantly to Elizabeth.
But no rest for the King. Despite his years! At sixty-four, he was heavy, purple of face, but his basic vigour little diminished.
Bruce was slow to rise, striving to school his features. He bowed briefly, unspeaking. Elizabeth had curtsied more promptly.
News, Roberttidings, the King went on.
Good, and less good. From France. And from the West. John, here, brings it.
From the West. Of folly and knavery. My sons folly. And your peoples knavery! Eh, John?
The massively tall and sombre-eyed young man with him, so uncannily like the other in build and face, inclined his dark head.
Travel stained but richly armoured, he was Sir John de Botetourt Edwards own bastard, and now Warden of the West March. A man of few words but strong hand, he let his sire do the talking.
My son-my other son-Edward of Carnarvon, lacks much.
But wits, most of all! Nor has your friend Lancaster greatly aided him it seems! They have mired themselves in your Galloway and Carrick bogs, a plague on them! A mighty host wasted, in chasing scum! Your scum, Robert! Your wretched savages of the West are resisting everywhe
re. In their accursed hills. It is shamefulnot to be borne. My commands, my splendid host, being thwarted by this beggarly rabble.
Who act in your name, by the Mass! Yours!
Bruce moistened his lips, but said nothing.
So you will leave me, Robert, meantime. I must bear to lose your
joyous presence! For a space. As must you, my dear. You will go back
with John, here, to the West, my friend. You will go and tell your
treacherous people to lay down their arms. You will take order with
them, hang the leaders, teach them what it means to defy the King of England. You will do more than that.
You will muster them to my arms I To fight against their rebellious countrymen, not their liege lord. I want a Bruce host in the field, Robert. Fighting by my side. By our side I You understand?
Edward was eyeing his victim levelly.
That I can by no means do, Sire, the younger man declared flatly.
I have no authority in the West, since I have yielded to your peace. My earldom is taken over by others. I have no power and jurisdiction now.
There you underestimate, Robert. Underestimate my love for you. For you have my power. More potent than any earldom of Carrick. To use, ladto use. Moreover, you shall have authority over more than your former vassals. I want men from more than Carrick, Galloway and Annandale. So you shall be Sheriff of Ayr and Lanark. For the present. Here is sufficient authority to act even for Robert Bruce!
The other blinked.
I … I do not wish this appointment, Sire.
But I do, my friend! And it shall be. From this moment, you are Sheriff of Ayr and Lanark, with all the duties thereto belonging! Sir John here, your deputy and companion. Close companion! In token of which I require from your sheriff dom within the month, 1,000 picked footmen, duly armed. Also a further thousand, half horsed, from your own lands of Carrick and Galloway. These, the first token. Within the month. More to follow. It is clear?
But, Sireyou have hundreds of thousands of men! What want you with these? Unwilling…!
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