The Steps to the Empty Throne

to be expected of this barbarous, damnable country! That is Scotland’s

uncouth talisman!” He leaned forward abruptly, snatched up a flagon,

and smashed it down in fierce violence on the top of the sandstone

block, with a crash. Wine and fragments splashed over all three of them.

“And that is its worth and honour, by the Mass!”

At the noise the lutist faltered to a halt, and everywhere men and women fell silent gazing alarmed up towards the trio at the dais.

Edward raised a jabbing hand, to point at the musician.

“Sing, fool! Did I command you to desist?” He glared round at all the company.

“What ails you? What ails you, I say?”

Hastily all turned away, began urgently to talk with each other, to resume their eating and drinking.

Bruce wiped with his velvet sleeve some of the wine which had splashed up in his face.

“Have I your permission to retire, Sire?” he asked.

“No, you have not!” The King swung on him, fierce eyes narrowed.

“That Stone. Do you still, in your impertinence, say that it is not the Stone of Destiny?”

“No, Sire.”

“As well!” He took a pace or two away, and then back.

“Why in God’s good name are you such a fool, Robert?” he demanded, but in a different voice.

“Fools I cannot abide.” He turned on the young woman—whose fine gown was now sadly stained with wine.

“What think you? Is his folly beyond redemption? Could you redeem it, girl?”

She shook her head.

“I myself am but a foolish woman, Your Majesty. If my lord of Carrick is indeed so foolish, then other than I must deal with him.”

“Hal Is that the way of it? You see—she does not want you, man! And I cannot say that I blame her.”

The young man looked quickly from one to the other. “7 cannot say that I understand you, Sire. In … in anything.”

“Because you are a fool, as I say. You lack understanding. Let us hope that is all you lack! Think on that! I had plans for you.

Other than just the payment of your debts. But I swear I must needs think again.” Edward tapped Elizabeth’s shoulder.

“My dear, I fear the matter is beyond redemption. But see if a woman may inst il a modicum of sense, if not wisdom, into that stubborn head. For I confess I have lost all patience with it.”

Without a further glance at either of them, majesty stalked off, beckoning to the ever-watchful Bishop of Durham.

Mystified, Bruce stared at the young woman.

“Of a mercy-what means all that?” he demanded.

“Has he taken leave of his wits? Or is he drunken? What does he mean?

What has he conceived against me? And how come you into it?”

Troubled, she bit her lip.

“He is strange, yes. But you know him better than do I. Before today, I had not seen him since I was a child.”

“I thought that I knew him passing well. Always he was passionate.

Changeable. A man or moods. But he has ever seemed to esteem me well enough. To trust me. What have I done that he should treat me like this?”

“I do not know. But from what he has said, I think that he questions your loyalty. You have come from Galloway, have you not? Perhaps what you were doing in Galloway aroused his suspicions?”

“I

was in Galloway, yes, when he summoned me here. Baliol was Lord of Galloway, before Edward named him king. Owned great lands there, he ired from his mother, Devorgilla of the old race. Bruce also held Galloway lands, which Baliol took when we clove to Edward. Since Baliol’s fall, I have been visiting these …”

“And the former King’s lands also?”

“I could scarce help pass through some. And why not? He seized all my Carrick lands, and gave them to Comyn …”

“No doubt, my lord. But perhaps tales have reached King Edward. From Galloway. Perhaps he believes that, now that King John Baliol is gone, you are seeking his great Galloway lands. And more than his lands. My father says that Galloway, properly mustered, could raise ten thousand men. Perhaps, my lord, His Majesty would prefer that the son of the man who now claims that he should be King of Scots should not control those thousands?”

He frowned at her. Chit of a girl as she was, she talked now like Richard de Burgh’s daughter.

“There is no truth in that,” he said.

“I have no thought to raise men. Against Edward. I have ever been loyal. I have raised men for him …

Loyal, my lord? Loyal to Edward of England? But not to Scotland, it seems. There are loyalties and loyalties!”

He stared at her.

“What do you mean? Baliol was ever the enemy of our house. When he became King, we fought against him. What else? Would you have had us lick his boots?”

You put Bruce before your Scotland?”

”Would you not put de Burgh before Ireland?”

“No. I would not.”

He shrugged.

“What is Scotland? Arabble of hungry, quarrelling lords. A land rent in pieces. A pawn in this game of kings.”

“Then is not here, perhaps, your answer, sir? If Bruce will put Bruce before Scotland, may he not put Bruce before Edward also? And when his father claims the Scots throne, Edward must needs look at Bruce with new eyes. And listen to the tales that men tell.”

“You think that is it? But there is no truth in it, I tell you.

My father is something of a fool. Weak. But stiff-necked. Perhaps he is, indeed, what Edward calls me! He will talk, but not act.

He is a man of books and parchments, not the sword. Edward need not fear him.”

“It is you he fears, I swear—not your father. And thinks to change his plans for you …”

“Aye—plans. What plans? What was he talking of, that he needs now to think again?”

“You do not know?”

“No. How should I know? He has told me nothing. Summoned me here, and then insulted me I Told me nothing, save that I am a fool. And, perhaps, traitor …!”

Elizabeth de Burgh looked away.

“You had a wife, my lord?”

He nodded.

“Aye. Isobel. Daughter to the Earl of Mar. We were wed young. She died. Two years ago. Giving birth to our daughter Marjory.”

“I am sorry.” She drew a deep breath.

“I have learned, since I came to Berwick, why my father brought me from Ireland. To this Scotland. It was King Edward’s command. He thought to marry me. To you!”

“Lord God!”

She raised her head, in a quick gesture.

“Well may you say so, my lord I Such match would have been as unwelcome to me as to yourself, I assure you. More so. So, I give thanks for the King’s change of mind!”

“But … but this is crazy-mad. Why? Why should he have had us to wed? Unknown to each other. How would such a match serve Edward?”

“That he did not reveal to me. But he is my god-sire. My father has long been his close companion. Perhaps he thought to bind you closer to him, thus. Make you more his man…”

“I’ faith—by foisting a wife on me! My father chose my first wife—a mere child. My next I shall choose for myself …”

“And welcome, sir—so long as you do not choose Elizabeth de Burgh!”

“H’rr’mm. I am sorry. I but mean that…”

“Your meaning is very clear, my lord. But no clearer than mine, I hope. Let us both thank God for His Majesty’s doubts!

It has saved me the distress of refusing him. And you! I bid you a good night, sir.” With the merest nod she turned and swept away, making for a door.

It did not take long for Robert Bruce to seek escape also, though by a different door. Nigel could look after himself.

But, as in the afternoon, King Edward proved that he had keen eyes. A messenger again came hurrying after the truant.

“His Majesty regrets that you saw fit to leave without his express permission, my lord,” he was told, expressionlessly.