David the Prince - Scotland 03 (17 page)

Pushing forward through the
throng, David and his compan
ions confronted the contestants — and at sight of the young nobles in their richer clothing, the shouting died away. The two soldiers looked alarmed and suddenly guilty, dropping the points of their swords.

"What is to do here?" David demanded. "Put away those swords."

There was no answer from the pair; but an answer of sorts came from within the hovel, a moaning sound.

Thrusting past the hesitant pair at the door, David strode within. There he found three people, two more Norman soldiers, one standing watching, dagger drawn, eager, the other on the earthen floor- or rather, on top of a young girl, sufficient of whose clothing had been torn off to reveal that she could be no more than twelve or thirteen years.

Stooping, to take the busy rapist by the ear, David twisted viciously, pulling the cursing, spluttering man off his victim. Handing him over to his friends, he then sought to raise up the gibbering, shocked child, attempting to comfort and soothe, and in some measure rearrange her disordered clothing. But the girl cringed away from him, sobbing. Whipping off his short riding-cloak, worn to counter the chill of the April evening, he wrapped it around her.

"Take these, these animals back to the hall," he ordered, having difficulty with his speech. "I shall deal with them later." Then he led the trembling child out.

The parents rushed forward to claim her, and David found himself almost afraid to meet their agonised and accusing eyes. He said, haltingly, that he was sorry, ashamed, that the evil men would be punished. He offered the couple a silver piece, and when they rejected it, insisted that they take it - although recognising that there might be little enough that such folk could do with it. Then, finding that the little community wanted nothing to do with him, he turned unhappily away, leaving the cloak with the girl.

Back at the camp beside the hall, he commanded an immediate assembly of all the company. As the men, grumbling, were being gathered in, he demanded whose soldiers were the four involved, and was told that they were in Drogo de Limesay's command. He ordered young Limesay and the four to be brought and placed in the midst.

When all who could be found were present, David raised his hand and spoke. "I gave clear and strict orders to you all, when we set out on this enterprise, that there was to be no indiscipline in my command, no pillaging, no ravishing, no savagery used against the people of the land. They are our fellow-subjects of King Henry. This order has today been grievously disobeyed. It is the plain duty of every officer to see that his commander's orders are carried out. Therefore you, Drogo de Limesay, are not guiltless in this matter." He forced himself to frown heavily at Limesay, a cheerful and uncomplicated character whom he liked very well, and who looked bewildered.

"As for these four men," he went on, "they have disgraced my name and command. They drew steel on harmless and peaceable people, in order to wreak their evil desires on a girl young enough to be the daughter of any of them. These are not callow youths but grown men, veteran soldiers. Chosen for this venture and duty of training my Cumbrian levies. They may have behaved so in Normandy, but here they obey my orders and act like soldiers of a Christian king. I know that men need women on occasion — we all do. But the women shall be willing. Do your hear- willing! Cold steel is no proof of manhood. If you must thrust with that before you thrust with the other, you are not worth the name of men! You will remember that, all of you."

David drew a long and rather uneven breath. "These must be punished. I could, perhaps should, hang them. But I need trained soldiers. There is no need for trial, for I myself caught them in the act. They shall be whipped - and you shall all witness it. Twenty lashes each of an oxen-whip for the two who were inside the hut. Ten each for the two who waited their turn outside, with drawn swords. And, and you, Drogo de Limesay, shall do the whipping."

"No, David — no, my lord Earl!" that young man cried. "Not me, I pray you! I cannot do it.
It
is not suitable. For one nobly born . . . !"

"You will do so, I say. For all to see. These are your men. You have responsibility for their behaviour. And you will not be gentle about it. For each too light lash, an extra one will be required!"

So the four culprits were tied to palings of the hall farmery, their tunics removed, and a long hide whip, for use with a team of plough-oxen, produced. Young Limcsay, who was not very efficient at wielding the thing, was ordered to practise on the trunk of a nearby tree, before all; then reluctantly started upon his victims. Even so he remained inexpert, and probably the resultant floggings were less than usually effective. Nevertheless they were sufficient to change the men's white backs quite quickly into an aspect of raw red meat - although only one of the sufferers called out during the prolonged process. David himself hated every moment of it quite as much as did Limesay, but forced himself to watch every stroke, gritting his teeth as each lash struck. He did not, however, claim that any of the blows were too feeble and must be repeated.

When at last the sixty lashes had cracked out and the bleeding victims sagged against their palings, David gazed round at the silent, watching throng.

"Let us all remember this," he said. "It is not pretty - but nor is rape and oppression. Worse than this will befall the next offenders. I shall reward good service - and punish disobedience. And see that all under me do likewise. Now, Drogo de Limesay, you will take these four, as they are now, and display them to those folk in the charcoal-burners' village. As sign of the Earl of Cumbria's justice . . ."

During the rest of the journey northwards there were no further outbreaks of indiscip
line. And the young Norman lord
lings and knights tended to eye David mac Malcolm rather differently also, with more deference, even Hugo de Morville and Hervey de Warenne — although that young man himself was far from doing so.
It
seemed to him a strange commentary on the nature of men that an act of counter-savagery not only should be necessary to enforce regard for justice, but that it should enhance the regard of others for the perpetrator.

A large party travels more slowly than a small and it took almost two weeks to reach Caer-luel on the northern edge of Cumbria. There the Earl Dolfin was waiting for them, and with no sort of ill-will. Cospatrick had been to see him on his way home to Scotland; and his brother was content, indeed seemed almost thankful, to relinquish any responsibility he had felt for the province to his second-cousin David. He asked only that he be allowed to retire to the family's lordship of Allerdale, in the fells to the east, where his sister, Ethelreda, formerly Queen to Duncan the Second, dwelt with her son William — and where the hunting was the best in all Cumbria. David, who had assumed that Dolfin would return to Scotland, to one of the Dunbar and March properties, saw no objection to this however, and agreed. In fact, after he had talked for a while, that evening, with his cousin, he came to the conclusion that to have him nearby might be a useful development. Dolfin was clearly-popular with the local Cumbrian notables, and this could help the new administration. Also he might prove a valuable adviser. For although lazy and pleasure-loving, he was no fool, and knew the situation here better than anyone, having been Earl of Cumbria for a score of years. Likewise, as brother of the former Queen, he might serve as some link with that faction in Scotland who distrusted the Margaretsons. And these were strong in Galloway, apparently.

Indeed it was on the subject of Galloway that David found Dolfin especially informative, for he himself was really very ignorant about that great province of South-West Scotland, so all-but-detached from the rest as to look upon itself as practically an independent entity, in Strathclyde but scarcely of
it-
yet Cumbria's close neighbour. Although entirely Celtic as to population, and formerly having its own Celtic lords, it had been for long under the sway of the Norse Earls of Orkney - for its almost peninsular situation, and extraordinarily lengthy and indented coastline, made it very vulnerable to assault by-sea; and the Vikings had for generations taken advantage of the fact. But now that the far-distant Orcades themselves were no longer independent, taken over by Eystein Magnusson of Norway, and with much internal feuding between the Earls Hakon and Magnus, grandsons of the mighty Thorfinn, the Orkney grip on Galloway had slackened. In the troubled state of Scotland since Malcolm Canmore's death, there had been little attempt to assert more than nominal sovereignty; certainly no authoritative control. Alexander's eyes were turned northwards meantime, not south-westwards. As a result the province was in a state of near-anarchy and unrest. Eystein was rumoured to have his acquisitive eyes on it, along with the Kingdom of Man. If he took it, since, with his longships he already dominated the West Highland seaboard, he could probably annexe all West Scotland.

This, Dolfin explained to David. He admitted that he personally had done nothing about it, had had no orders to do so and had been disinclined to act on his own — even though anarchy made a bad neighbour. Not that he could see what he could have done, anyway. He had no army, and the Cumbrian lords certainly would not have thanked him for seeking to embroil them in Galloway's affairs.

David asked who was wielding such rule and authority as there was in Galloway? It was a large province, almost a principality in itself. Surely it must have some government, even if ineffective?

His cousin admitted that there were two claimants to authority—but unfortunately they were more concerned with fighting each other than with ruling the province or keeping any sort of order. One was the young Earl Hakon Claw, second son of Earl Hakon of Orkney - whom David had met at Dunkeld, father of Madach of Atholl's bride. This character, in name Governor of Galloway, was little more than a youth, and though shaping up as a typical Viking sea-rover, was all but useless as a ruler. Dolfin looked distinctly apologetic as he said that, well recognising that he himself was no ruler, although no raider and plunderer either. But Hakon Claw, he indicated, was the very negation of all law and order. The other would-be overlord, he went on, was one Fergus of Carrick, a descendant of the old Celtic Lords of Galloway, dispossessed by the Norsemen and Orkneymen, also a warrior but a more able man, administering his own inherited territories in the hill-country to the north-east well enough — although he had a heavy hand and a name for cruelty. But he had no hold in the low country, although he raided it at will. There were other, many other, lesser lords and brigands let loose in that unhappy land, of course; but these two were the greatest, and could field most men — especially as Fergus had a kinsman, Dunegal, Lord of Nithsdale, who frequently joined him in his raiding activities, with large forces. Combined they could allegedly put five thousand men in the field.

David listened and pondered. He asked, also, about the situation on Man.

There Dolfin could scarcely be so well informed. But there was quite a lot of coming and going between the island kingdom and the Cumbrian coast, and he knew at least the bare bones of the situation. Godfrey Crovan, the warlike King of Dublin and Man, had died a dozen years before, pirate from Islay, son of a pirate from Iceland, who had seized the island in 1075. His eldest son, Logmann, was worse even than his predecessor, emasculating and putting out the eyes of his own next brother when he rebelled against his savageries. He had died young, fortunately, and in 1103 was succeeded by his younger brother, Olaf the Morsel. Olaf was still only a youth, of a peaceable disposition; and therefore represented an open invitation to all adventurers and raiders, especially Norsemen. It seemed to be only a question of time before Eystein sought to take Man over. Only fear of the Irish had probably prevented it so far - the Norse-Irish, for Man was linked with the Viking kingdom of Dublin. Now it was being suggested that Eystein had his eyes on that likewise, for he already had taken over much of Ulster.

If he had not recognised it from the first, David perceived that his new role as Earl of Cumbria was unlikely to be a bed of roses, and Dolfin's relief at being superseded entirely understandable. Fortunately there seemed to be little of trouble brewing internally in Cumbria itself, its local lords often quarrelling amongst themselves but none apt to have larger ambitions. The strongest man there was Richard d'Avranches, son of Hugo, Earl of Chester; but he represented little threat, not only being a Norman but Henry's friend, indeed kinsman, grandson of Emma, the Conqueror's half-sister. Henry had told David that he ought to be a useful lieutenant.

As for the area to the east, Northumbria and Durham, these parts were meantime peaceful and under fairly strict rule, posing little threat to Cumbria. Ivo de Vesci was acting earl in Northumbria, at Alnwick, and controlling that province adequately. Whilst further south, Henry had come to terms with the scoundrelly but able Flambard, had re-established him as Bishop of Durham, and he was now managing the all but princely see effectually if less than kindly. Any trouble, therefore, was to be looked for from north and west, from Galloway, the Western Sea, or Man.

Henry's insistence on military preparedness and the need to build up a Cumbrian army, was now to be seen in its true light. David was to be his brother-in-law's answer to Eystein rather than to Alexander.