A Kingdom's Cost, a Historical Novel of Scotland (28 page)

"What happened?" James prodded
him.

"King Edward rode north from Carlisle
as far as Burgh-on-Sands. At the head of his army. A messenger came with word
of a battle, from Valence. That he had lost. King Edward went into a rage."
The priest shook his head. "That king always had an excess of choler, or
so they say. He cursed Valence. Drawing his sword, he slashed about him. He
swore he'd leave Scotland a burning ruin. Shouted they'd never rise against him
again." The priest paused for a moment as more men gathered around to hear
what he was saying. "Then, he fell onto the ground, clutching his chest as
though his rage had ripped his very heart. I could hear him gasping for breath.
His face turned purple. And his eyes became spider-web etched with blood-red
lines."

He shook his head. "He seemed to
recover a bit when they gave him wine. He spoke again, cursing Lord Robert. Then
he was dead. But I swear to you, it was the news of Lord Robert's victory that
killed him."

Bruce stepped ahead of James, his face grim.
"Speak truly as you value your life. You were there when this happened?"

The priest faced the king squarely. "I
swear it, Your Grace. I was there with my brothers from the Lanercost Abbey to
pray--" He shuffled and his eyes darted away. "Forgive me, but to
pray for King Edward's victory. At my abbot's orders. I saw it myself."

Boyd was glowering at the man suspiciously.
"Can we trust this news? From someone from an English Abbey?"

Will stepped forward, his face flushing
bright red. He dropped to a knee. "My king, messengers have been riding
into Bothwell Castle. Rumors buzz about like midges. For two days before we
left, it was so."

The priest gave an emphatic nod. "The
army turned back to Carlisle but I decided it was time to return home." He
glanced at the still glowering Boyd out of the corner of his eye. "I
confess I feared too much to be loyal, but I'm a Scot. I had to bring word. I
swear it’s the truth."

Bruce's chest heaved with a deep gasp. "Then
I killed him. Strange. God's hand at work, so it seems, giving us justice for
those he's torn from us--letting our victory fell our greatest enemy." The
king spun to face James, face ablaze. "At last. He is dead."

The whole earth had moved, shifted. This man
had destroyed James's whole life. Destroyed everything he ever cared about,
except Alycie and the king and those near enough. Ordered his father starved. Had
Isabella caged. Ordered the deaths of friend upon friend.

James shook his head. "Longshanks
dead?" he asked in wonder, unable to take in the idea. He'd known the man
to be aging. There had been stories of his falling ill, but that he could die
had seemed impossible. He'd never known a world without King Edward of England
threatening him and everything he loved.

Shouts, cheers, and catcalls resounded and
echoed. Around the camp men danced and jumped. Boyd was ordering one of his men
to pull a tun of wine out of the supply tent.

The king was laughing, a deep racking laugh
almost like grief. At last, he threw his arm around Jamie's shoulder. "There
is something evil at such joy at a man's death--and a man I once counted as a friend.
Long ago--"

He gestured towards the wine. "We'll
join in the celebration whilst we may. The prince loves us no more than his
father. We'll have war again soon enough and our own enemies here yet to defeat
in the meantime. The Comyns. The MacDougalls. Ross." He could barely say
the name of the miscreant who had betrayed the queen and the other women to imprisonment.

Boyd handed the king a cup and raised his
own high. "We'll have time to prepare whilst they take his bones home for
burial. Defeat the traitors in our midst, and we'll have a whole nation for the
pup to face when he returns with his pack of hounds. To freedom, my liege."

The king threw back his head and laughed
before he drained the cup. He looked back at the men who'd brought the news. "You
deserve more than I have in my purse this day. Reward you shall have."

James waved Wat over to him. "We'll
delay leaving to celebrate." He grinned. Never had there been such good
news in all of his life. As much as there was still to grieve them, friends and
family dead, Lamberton and so many others still imprisoned, this was the day
he'd waited for.

Their victory had sent a king who had tried
to destroy their very kingdom to face a judgment that he'd been too powerful
for the world to give.

Bruce yelled to his trumpeter and a long
call sounded and sounded again. Silence fell over the camp, an anticipation and
joy that none quite knew how to feel. "Bring out more wine. Bring out food
for a feast. We celebrate tonight. Our greatest enemy is no more." He
turned to Robbie Boyd. "See that the sentries are changed every hour. All
should celebrate--and mayhap that way they won't be too drunken to keep watch."

"I'll see they aren't, my Lord,"
Boyd said.

James looked at the king surrounded by
laughing, dancing men, his face alight for a change. How rarely he had seen the
king joyful or felt such himself.

He wandered the camp all the rest of the
day and the night. He drank a cup of wine and smiled and laughed with his
friends and his men. Yet he couldn't keep back the thoughts of what this pup of
an English king would be like. It was said he was weak--nothing compared to his
cruel and fierce father. Edward Longshanks. Great in a way, some said. Strong
beyond belief leading an army. Loved and honored by many in his own land. Yet, with
his greed and hatred, he had done evil beyond understanding. Evil not yet
ended.

Three days later as the sunset streaked red
on the hills, James signaled a halt next to the dark river. Outlined were the
towers of Douglas Castle, once more whole. The Clifford pennant flew above the
highest turret. He swung out of the saddle and looped his reins to a branch.

The scent of the wind off Douglas Water,
the pines and the broom wrapped around him. Strange that nowhere else had the
same smell as home. Home. How much of his life had he wanted nothing more than
to be home? How much more would it take to put things to right? But it would
happen. He would make it happen. Now he knew it would be.

"Will, come with me for a bit."

 
Will joined him and they walked through
the cool dark of the trees up the slope. "How do people fare? It's wrong
that you know my people, and I don't. What should I do, Will?" Jamie
leaned his against the trunk of a tree and frowned at the dark mass of the
castle.

"Food's short. You know that. What you
can do? That I don't know."

James nodded. Food must be found or,
better, taken from the enemy. "The Cliffords-- I feared they'd retaliate
because of the raid."

Will crossed his arms and paused. "They
fear you. What you might do. They ever look over their shoulders for you to
appear."

James' laugh was harsh. "I'll give
them reason. No English will hold my lands or my people. Before St. Bride, I
swore it." Catching them in the kirk was no longer an option. He smiled. There
were other ways to lure from a castle. He would try them all. "Will, does
the castle have cattle that graze nearby? As they did in my father's day?"

"Aye. A small herd."

"I'm thinking they'd not like to lose
them. Might even pursue cattle thieves."

"The Black Douglas." Will
chuckled. "Always full of plots, my lord. I think you be right."

James strode to the edge of the woods. Hand
on a trunk he paused, studying Will. "I'm your friend, too, I hope, Will,
because I won't speak as your lord in this. But I'm going to see Alycie now. I'd
not like that to harm what's between us as lord and man or as friends."

"We talked, Alycie and me before I
left. I've felt strange to tell you of it. She says that after what she
suffered, she should have the right to find her own happiness. I can't deny
there's truth to that or that our father would be right pleased if you love her.
But just treat her--" He cleared his throat. "I'd have you treat her
as a lady."

James sucked in a breath at the thought of
how he'd had to treat a lady he'd loved. "I'll treat her the best that I
know how, Will. And I pray it's for good and not ill."

"It won't be a bad thing for the two
of you to have time alone. I'll go along to the camp for the night then."

James nodded. He waited until Will rejoined
the men, and the tramp of hooves faded away into the darkening woods. James
walked slowly to Alycie's door, taking his time to savor the feeling. Mayhap
this was what going home meant.

He knocked. She opened the door, light
spilling out, and was into his arms.

Appendix 1

Historical
Notes

I have tried as much as possible to weave my
fiction into the known facts of this immensely complex period of history. Much
information has been lost to time and the destruction of wars and some points,
such as the complex history of the battle for the throne of Scotland, I admit
to simplifying.

One point which I want to emphasize is entirely
fictional is James Douglas's murder of Isabella MacDuff. She was imprisoned by
the English as I describe under circumstances which, considering the winters of
what was then part of Scotland, it would be unlikely someone could long
survive. Although there are a few references to her later, none is absolute
proof, in my opinion, that she was still alive. I believe, but could not prove,
that she died fairly early in her cruel captivity. There is no record of her
death or the circumstances of it, so I felt free to invent what might have happened.
She certainly was not returned to Scotland several years after the events of
this novel when other Scottish captives were finally freed.

As for my historical references, the major ones
are The Brus by John Barbour, Chronicle of Lanercost translated by Sir Herbert
Maxwell, Robert Bruce and the Community of the Realm of Scotland by Geoffrey W.
S. Barrow, Robert the Bruce, King of Scots by Ronald McNair Scott, James the
Good, The Black Douglas by David R. Ross, and The Scottish War of Independence
by Evan M. Barron.

Appendix 2

List
of Historical Characters

Sir James Douglas,
Lord of Douglas --
known as the Sir James the Good and the Black Douglas), Scottish soldier and
knight, lieutenant and friend to King Robert de Bruce

William de Lamberton,
-- Bishop of St
Andrews who campaigned for the cause of Scottish freedom under Andrew de Moray,
William Wallace and Robert de Bruce

Edward I of England
-- English king who
attempted the conquest of Scotland, also known as Edward Longshanks because of
his height and The Hammer of the Scot

Aymer de Valence
-- Earl of Pembroke,
one of the commanders of the English forces during the invasion of Scotland

Robert de Clifford
-- Baron of Clifford,
Lord of Skipton, English commander during the war with Scotland also first Lord
Warden of the Marches

Robert de Bruce
-- Earl of Carrick,
Lord of Annandale, King of the Scots

Elizabeth de Burgh
-- daughter of the
Earl of Ulster, second wife of King Robert de Bruce and his only queen consort

Sir Christopher Seton
-- husband of
Christina de Bruce and brother-in-law of King Robert de Bruce

John de Strathbogie
-- Earl of Atholl and
Justiciary of Scotland

Maol Íosa
-- Earl of Strathearn,
Scottish nobleman

Robert Wishart
-- Bishop of Glasgow
and a leading supporter of King Robert de Bruce

David de Moray
-- Bishop of Moray and supporter of
Scottish freedom and of King Robert de Bruce

Philip de Mowbray
-- Scottish nobleman

There are two men
named John Comyn referred to in this novel:

John Comyn
-- Lord of Badenoch and Lochabar also called
John "the Red Comyn", Scottish nobleman, Guardian of Scotland during
the Second Interregnum, killed by King Robert de Bruce at Greyfriars Church

John Comyn
-- Earl of Buchan, Scottish nobleman who
was the husband of Isabella MacDuff

Isabella MacDuff
-- married to John
Comyn, Earl of Buchan and was the Countess-consort of Buchan

Sir Thomas Randolph
-- nephew of King
Robert de Bruce

Alexander de Bruce
, Thomas de Bruce,
Nigel de Bruce, and Edward de Bruce -- younger brothers of King Robert de Bruce

Sir Niall Campbell
-- brother-in-law of
King Robert de Bruce and husband of Mary de Bruce

Sir Robert Boyd
-- Scottish nobleman
and loyal follower of King Robert de Bruce

Mary de Bruce
and
Christina de
Bruce
-- sisters of King Robert de Bruce

Sir Gilbert de la Haye
-- supporter of King
Robert de Bruce who commanded his bodyguard a the battle of Methven

Marjorie de Bruce
-- daughter of King
Robert de Bruce by his first wife Isabella of Mar

Maol Choluim
-- Earl of Lennox and
loyal follower of King Robert de Bruce

Christina MacRaur
i -- also known as
Christina of the Isles, a Scottish noblewoman and supporter of King Robert de
Bruce

Angus Óg MacDonald
, Lord of the Isles --
Scottish nobleman and supporter of King Robert de Bruce