Authors: Nigel Tranter
Tags: #11th Century, #Fiction - Historical, #Scotland, #Royalty, #Military & Fighting
In fact, something like the beginnings of a Court developed at Dunsinane that summer—and the inadequacies of that draughty establishment were thereby brought home to the visitors, to excellent effect.
But there were some notable absentees. It was scarcely to be expected that Crinan would contribute, although invited to do so; and MacDuff of Fife, although next to Strathearn the nearest neighbour of all, made no move in the matter either.
Vast quantities of materials, stone, timber, turf, peats, had to be dragged from near and far to the hill-top site; and innumerable teams of oxen were used for this task. A certain competitive spirit had already developed amongst the teamsters, from various districts and mortuaths, and wagering on speed and prowess was good for progress and morale. This gave Gruoch the notion that there could be a major and set contest, to see which could drag a given load over a given distance to the site, already being called Cairn Beth, in the fastest time. Already teams belonging to the two Fife Thanes of Lindores and Kinross were involved in the work. If urged to support an all-Fife effort, MacDuff could scarcely refuse without offending his own people. MacBeth set a day, before harvest, and ensured that the word of it reached Kennochy, MacDuff's principal seat in central Fife, not as coming from himself but from his thanes.
The chosen August day, the Eve of the Assumption, was distinctly warm for the business. Great crowds assembled from near and far, large numbers lining the route to be taken and taking up their stance on the slopes of the palace hill itself, which made an excellent grandstand. The starting-point was at the edge of Druids' Seat Wood, one of the main dumps for the building materials, and exactly a mile from the site. Here no fewer than eleven loads had been built up, all exactly the same, meticulously weighed-out, consisting of quarried stone, sawn logs, cut peat and turf, and beside each load an identical heavy wooden sled. The number of oxen to be used was left to each team. Basically the more numerous the animals the less manageable, so it was a question of seeking to balance power, pace and ease of handling.
As to the teams themselves, only five men were allowed for each, and the captains were to be the mormaors or chief thanes themselves—this ordained by MacBeth, who was reverting to being Mormaor of Moray for the occasion. This way MacDuff had to take part—since he had indeed risen to the bait. Lulach was being allowed to captain the Ross team in place of young Farquhar.
Needless to say the land had been scoured for the best and strongest oxen, and many a small farmer and husbandman had done well out of the search. Most teams had plumped for eight beasts, the traditional span for an oxgate on the plough; but two had ten and one, Buchan, actually was going to use twelve. Fife was one of the tens.
MacBeth, in good spirits and laying aside kingliness for the occasion, indeed stripped to only his short saffron kilt and brogans, greeted all comers, and made a point of being especially affable towards MacDuff—although he got little response from that hot-eyed, hulking individual.
The Thane of Glamis, who was not taking part in the Angus team, acted as starter. He called all to order and explained the procedure. At the blast of a horn the race would commence. Teams could choose in what order they wished to harness up the oxen, load the sleds and set off. Also select whichever route they cared to the objective. No deliberate bumping, impeding or entangling was permitted. If loads collapsed or fell off, on rough ground, they had to be built up in total before proceeding.
The winner would be the first team to deliver its full load in proper order at the gates of the new palace.
The eventual wailing of the horn ushered in a state of what looked like utter confusion. Sixty men and almost double that number of animals had to struggle, manoeuvre and sort themselves out in a comparatively confined space. Oxen at the best are slow, ponderous brutes; and all the men involved, particularly the captains, were not necessarily expert in handling them or in loading and stacking heavy goods. Indeed most of the mormaors were little better than in the road at this stage, and the parties which got on best were those with most professional teamsters included. Some set about harnessing and inspanning the oxen first; others got the loads stacked on the sleds in solid fashion, roped and secure.
MacBeth had deliberately chosen to have his Moray team placed next to the Fife one, and he was interested to see that MacDuff was working like a Trojan at the loading, heaving logs and stones about with fierce energy, even if his actual loading technique was erratic and much of his work had to be rearranged by his team-mates. He gave the impression that he intended to win this race—which was strange in view of the fact that the oxen he had contributed were amongst the poorest there.
MacBeth was probably wise in leaving most of the loading and spanning to the professionals; at least his sled was loaded before MacDuff's—and others. He aided with the inspanning of the animals—and having only eight against Fife's ten, they made a little time there also. Not that he was anxious to beat MacDuff—the reverse rather.
When, two-thirds of the way to the foot of the hill, MacBeth saw that he was leaving a glowering MacDuff behind, and moreover that Buchan was now catching up fast, he recognised that something would have to be done if Fife was not to be actually last in the race. He realised that he would have to take his team into his confidence, and ruefully told them that they must hold back, somehow, seem to take a mistaken route and then turn back, so as to let Fife catch up. His men did not hide their resentment, but did as they were told. Fortunately the* Lothian team just in front lost part of its load and fell behind.
MacBeth, making what seemed to be an ill-advised detour round a patch of soft ground, came back level with MacDuff. He thought to try what a little raillery might do.
"Ha, MacDuff!" he cried. "How fares Fife? Are you weary? Or saving all for the final hill? That you plod so!"
"We shall see," came back. "Who are you to speak?"
"We are just getting into our stride, man! Your beasts are not trying. I swear! Is Fife but a poor place for oxen?"
"There is nothing wrong with my oxen. We had a bad start."
"It's your beasts, friend. They lack muscle.
You
,
now—a great bull of a man like you could pull your sled better! I vow, if you harnessed yourself in place of the lead-ox, you would beat us all!"
MacBeth's grin, as he called that, faded before the sheer fury and hatred on the face that MacDuff turned to him.
"Curse you, MacBeth!" he exclaimed. "Curse you—you will pay for that! God help me, you will!"
"A mercy, man, I but..." MacBeth stopped himself, reminding himself that he was the King and must not seem to make unnecessary apology. "No ill meant," he jerked.
MacDuff kept his head turned away now, and gradually MacBeth's team moved apart and ahead.
When eventually MacBeth joined Gruoch and her son at the palace-gate, to accept considerable laughter and mock condolences, and himself to congratulate Colin of the Mearns, the winner, it was to perceive that though the Fife team was itself, now nearing the hill-top, MacDuff was no longer with it. Raising his glance, MacBeth saw a single distant figure striding back, as it were against the tide, back across the route for the starting-point.
That night, in their own bedchamber, Gruoch kissed her husband. "A successful day, my heart—save for MacDuff. It has done more than anything yet to endear you to your people, noble and simple, I swear."
"Yet it was for MacDuff, in the main, that it was devised. The man is an oaf and a fool. But...I blame myself. So thin of skin, I should have handled him more carefully."
"Care nothing, my love. It is not so great a matter. He is but one amongst many. And he will get over it."
"He is the foremost mormaor of my realm. And powerful. With Crinan against me, I cannot afford MacDuff's enmity."
"Crinan is old and lazy. And MacDuff a fool. Never heed, my dear..."
In crisp golden
October weather, MacBeth organised and led a sort of pilgrimage to Iona, late in the season for such as it was. The idea had been simmering in his mind all summer—but he could not contrive it earlier, for the decision on who was to be the new Co-Arb and Abbot there had not been decided. However, the choice was now made, with Abbot Cathail of Scone having had his way, and Robartach, old Malmore's assistant, appointed by a handsome majority of abbatial votes. To mark the occasion, and his own approval—also to mark the defeat of Crinan the Primate, who had sponsored a kinsman of his own—MacBeth announced that he would attend the inauguration in person. That this would tend to bind most of the Church closer to the Crown was not the least of it. To emphasise this essential unity of Church and State—as also to help to change the notion that all government of the realm must centre around Fortrenn, Scone and Dunsinane—he ordained that his first High Council of State should be held at Iona, at the same time. All mormaors, thanes, abbots and sundry bishops were summoned to attend, with representatives from Lothian, the Merse, Teviotdale, Strathclyde, Dalar and the Hebrides. It would be inconvenient for many, admittedly, so MacBeth was seeking to make something between a holiday and a pilgrimage out of it all.
The main party sailed in three galleys from Alclyde, under the shadow of Dumbarton Rock, the capital of Strathclyde. This was the most convenient method of getting to Iona from mid-Scotland—provided storms withheld. MacBeth would have liked to have had Gruoch with him, but galley accommodation was scarcely comfortable for women, especially if the weather roughened as was highly possible, and Gruoch was pregnant again. He did take Lulach however, now a slender boy of eleven. As heir to the throne, MacBeth was anxious to bring him into prominence, although he was still a shy and silent lad.
MacBeth was glad to see a number of longships already lying in the shelter of St. Ronan's Bay in the Sound of lona, when they arrived, including Thorfinn's unmistakable dragon-ship. He had been rather afraid that, after the strong line he had takeii with his brother in Cumberland, Thorfinn might elect to keep his distance for a while.
There was certainly no hint of anything like pique about the earl's greeting thereafter—even if the hugging, backslapping and bellowed laughter was scarcely the normal reception for a monarch. Nevertheless, MacBeth hoped that their leave-taking might be as hearty.
Neil Nathrach, Farquhar O'Beolain, the Abbot Malbride of Deer and Bishop Malise of Inverness were also already here, with sundry Dalar notables. Likewise the Earl Gilleciaran from Colonsay. So there was a good representation from the North. Indeed the attendance altogether was encouraging, the only important absentees being Crinan of Atholl and MacDuff of Fife.
In the morning Robartach was installed as new Co-Arb and Abbot of Iona in the open air, in the Columban tradition—anyway, the church would not have held half of the assembled congregation. Robertach made a short speech of affirmation and promise, the psalm was sung and communion dispensed, in both kinds, to all. That was all, not taking above twenty minutes.
There followed a still more informal little ceremony. The late Abbot Malmore's old garron, Moses, on which he had covered much of Scotland and of which he had been very fond, had died two days before. Now it was to be buried in the animals' cemetery, with benefit of clergy—the Celtic Church being concerned for the lesser creation—and thereafter a prayer said over the grave of its master, the Church being likewise much concerned for the departed's onward progress towards a better and fuller life. MacBeth elected to attend this moving little interment, conducted by the new Co-Arb. It was perhaps the first time that a King of Scots and most of his nobility had graced the funeral of a horse.
That was the forenoon's programme. In the afternoon MacBeth held the first full Council of his reign, in the abbey eating-hall.
After welcoming the company and bidding them speak out, without fear, he paused. "Before we commence our discussions, it is suitable that an appointment be made. Indeed three appointments. Whilst I, the High King, must preside over my Council, it is wiser that other than the monarch conducts it. In a secret council, that is the duty of a secretary. But having made decisions, it will be necessary that they are carried out thereafter. For this the High King has to be assisted and reminded by one well qualified so to act. Who must needs be a man used to conducting large affairs, with scribes and clerks at his hand, able to put into effect the laws and statutes which we shall make. This is the function of a chancellor. I say that it is reasonable that such Chancellor of the realm should also be the Secretary of the Council. There has been no Chancellor for long, by title. But the late King Malcolm used Malduin of St. Andrews, his King's Bishop, for some such duties. I therefore propose that Bishop Malduin be appointed Chancellor of the realm. Does any make objection? Speak." None spoke.
"Very well. Bishop Malduin—come forward and take your seat at the small table, and bring your scribe, to write fairly what is decided here!"
The little bishop, and a tall gangling monk with sundry rolls of paper, quills and ink-horn, came up to the dais and sat opposite Lulach.
"The two other appointments may as well be considered now likewise," MacBeth went on. "Since our decisions will almost certainly require them. The realm requires a High Constable and a High Judex, if its laws are to be upheld and administered honestly. For High Constable I name you Cormac, Thane of Glamis, the most experienced soldier in this kingdom, than whom none is better fitted to carry the sword of the law and see that it is obeyed by all, without fear or favour."
A spontaneous cheer broke out. Glamis was one of the most respected figures in the land, and moreover had been, like Malduin, as close as anyone could be to King Malcolm, so that continuity was maintained.
"For Judex, different qualities are demanded," MacBeth resumed. "Since he administers the laws he must be learned. Also wise and fair. After much thought I have decided on Ewan, Abbot of Abernethy, as the best man for this position. Does any assert otherwise?"