Macbeth the King (45 page)

"Once a diocese of Christ's Church, always so, my son. It can sleep without dying. So I told this abbot."

"If that is so, equally so is the Celtic Church still the Church of Orkney and Zetland, Holiness. Since its missionaries converted those islands, and long ruled there."

"Ah." The Pope looked thoughtfully from MacBeth to Thorfinn, then up at the monk Hildebrand—who stooped and murmured. Leo listened and nodded, then went on. "I see that you come to bargain, my son. Holy Church, I fear, cannot deal as in the market-place. As to the facts of this matter I shall have to investigate, take advice and consider. But, if you have proposals to make perhaps I should hear them now."

MacBeth nodded. "I propose, Holiness, that when you have considered the matter, you consider this also. That if reason does not prevail over Galloway and the so-called See of Whithorn, I shall be forced to draw the sword to ensure that my realm remains inviolate. And, to be sure, seek my brother the earl's aid—for he governs Galloway for me. We are come here directly from the Court of King Sven of Denmark and Norway, with whom the earl has entered into treaty. England is riven with dissensions between Saxon and Dane, as you will know. I cannot believe that Your Holiness would wish to see the northern kingdoms plunged into war and at each other's throats, over so small a matter. Most of them of the Romish faith."

There was silence.

It was the monk Hildebrand who spoke. "Do you threaten, Sir King?"

"No, I do not. I am a man of peace, as I say. I have not drawn the sword, save against my own rebels, in my ten years as King. If I sought to gain by threatening war, I could do it from Scotland, I would not be here. I have come because I believe that the issues between Christian nations should be settled by reason and honest interchange, not by the sword. And I think that the Bishop of Rome must believe the same."

The Pope stroked his fringe of beard. "I perceive the distinction, my son," he said slowly. "Yes, you have given us much to consider. I shall do so, make enquiry, and communicate with you again. That will be best."

"I thank Your Holiness. But may I remind you that I have a realm to rule? A long distance off. That I have been away from it for too long already. As has the Earl Thorfinn from his islands and Galloway. I fear that we cannot linger for much longer."

"I understand. Although I also have other matters to engage my attention. But I shall not delay unduly. Now—go in peace."

The Pontiff raised two fingers to sketch the Sign of the Cross, and the audience was over.

They were led out by a disapproving cardinal and a wondering Norman.

* * *

In the end, Pope Leo surprised his visitors by the speed with which he acted. Perhaps he was not unaware of the problems involved in having a thousand Vikings loose in his city. That very evening the monk Hildebrand appeared at the Clemente Palace to talk with MacBeth and his colleagues, and came surprisingly well-informed considering the remoteness from Rome of the subject matter and personalities concerned. He proved not an easy man to deal with, being abrupt, assertive and challenging; but on the other hand he was highly intelligent, swift to take a point, and with a clear mind for essentials and for ultimate advantage. Thorfinn he more or less ignored; but clearly he found the Abbot Ewan more to his taste—to whom, in consequence, MacBeth left much of the debating.

They talked well into the night—although Thorfinn soon left them to it—with the Tuscan acutely questioning every contention, making swift acceptances or curt dismissals, demanding, probing, evaluating. MacBeth could not like the man, but he was impressed, almost admiring. When he left them he gave no indication as to what his advice to his master would be; but at least they had gone over the entire scene and situation, and Hildebrand was in no doubts as to what was at stake.

The very next afternoon a messenger from Leo announced that the Pope would grant them private audience that same evening, after the Angelus.

This time Sir Roger conducted the trio not by the great central entrance to the Lateran Palace but round to a small side-door in a wing, and across a quiet courtyard to a small library, fine enough but modest compared with the great apartments they had seen previously. Here a clerk awaited them, and presently they were joined by Leo and Hildebrand only, Despard taking his leave. The Pope had dispensed with cope and mitre and wore only a simple monkish robe and purple skullcap. He greeted them, quietly genial, and they sat around a table, with a flagon of wine.

"My sons," Leo said, "my good friend and counsellor Hildebrand had informed me of your discussion last night and of all that is at issue in this of Galloway and Candida Casa. He has given me his valued guidance in the matter, and we have debated it with care. I have, accordingly, reached certain conclusions. These, I recognise, may not altogether satisfy you, King MacBeth, nor you, Earl Thorfinn. But at least they should go some way towards meeting your problems and wishes."

"We have much confidence in Your Holiness's wisdom," MacBeth said.

"Have you, my friend? I would wish that I had! But perhaps between us we can come to the reason you spoke of yesterday. For also I am a man of peace—even though I too will fight for the right, if need be."

They waited.

"You will understand that I have to concern myself also for the needs and honest aspirations of Holy Church in the realm of England, and the rights and mission of my brothers of York and Durham, who look to me for support and wise guidance in Christ. I have not heard their representations in the matter. And they may have intimations which could affect my judgment. But meantime I feel that in the interests of peace between the northern realms, and between your faith and mine, the archi-episcopal see of York should not seek any resumption of the diocese of Whithorn or Candida Casa, notable as are the traditions there. I shall write to my brother of York to that effect."

Leo paused, and raised a finger when MacBeth was about to speak.

"On the other hand," he went on, "I cannot accept that Orkney and Zetland and the other northern isles are not now and for ever part of the Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church which it is my humble privilege to cherish and sustain. Under no circumstances can I accede that the communion of saints there, part of the archiepiscopal see of Nidaros in Norway, was ever a recognised limb of the Celtic Church of Scotland, or of Ireland. Nor that it could ever be used as part of an unseemly bargain or chaffering. That, my friends, is certain. As the successor of the blessed Saint Peter I will not trade away any single portion of his heritage, in faith or in territory. I see the Galloway situation as different, in that the first bishops in Candida Casa or Whithorn were sent from Lindisfarne, which was an outpost of the Celtic Church."

MacBeth exchanged glances with his friends, seeking to keep his elation from showing too plainly. It was all that they had come to Rome to seek, the Orkney business merely a gesture. Thorfinn was grinning, but Ewan kept a sober face.

"I understand Your Holiness's decision and recognise the reason behind it," MacBeth said, maintaining a level voice. "Since reason, not force, is what we both seek, I see reason here. But, should the Bishop of Durham, of his own decision or because he is constrained by the Earl Siward, seek to take what is wanted, despite your papal injunction—for I believe that Siward the Dane is behind it all—what then? Must we then draw the sword, after all?"

"My son, any man who disobeys a specific papal injunction, be he bishop or beggar, king or even emperor, is liable to the dire penalty of excommunication. Where the peace of Christ's Church is concerned, I should not hesitate to impose such excommunication. Our friends in England will have no doubts on the matter."

Satisfied, MacBeth nodded. "I thank Your Holiness. Also Brother Hildebrand for his good offices. For our part, I see this as a good day for northern Christendom, for understanding between Scotland and the Holy See, for the Celtic and Roman Churches."

"May it be as you say, King MacBeth."

Hildebrand smiled—the first they had seen from that man.

When they rose to take their leave, Leo spoke, in a different voice.

"You are not of our faith—although this Orkney bear is said to be! But will you accept an old man's blessing? You who remembered the poor?"

Unspeaking, MacBeth sank down, then Ewan, then even Thorfinn, however awkwardly. They were all on their knees, at last.

The Pontiff raised his hand over them. "Benedicat..."

They sailed for home the next day, before the Vikings got really out of hand. Sir Roger Despard and other Normans were at the riverside to see them off, bringing handsome gifts from the Pope. They parted good friends. MacBeth declared that if he, or others of their kind, ever sought a change of employment, there would be a warm welcome for them in Scotland.

Despite the various
delays, Thorfinn's assessment of six weeks for their journey proved to be only just over a week out, and the travellers arrived back at Torfness on the Eve of the MagdaUne in late July. They found all well at Spynie, with no serious problems having arisen, in Scotland at least, in their absence. The Mormaor of Strathearn had died suddenly, but he had never been a potent or very reliable character and his nephew and successor was actually an improvement. Lulach, Prince of Strathclyde, had become involved in what was amounting to a feud with Lachlan of Buchan—and this would have to be stopped. But otherwise all was well. Gruoch was happy to have her husband and son home, but seemed to have thrived on responsibility. Ingebiorg said that they could have stayed away for at least as long again, as she was enjoying herself very well and in no hurry to return to Orkney. Actually, sending home the bulk of his men, Thorfinn stayed on in Moray for another week before departing northwards.

Two days after Thorfinn and Ingebiorg departed, MacBeth and Gruoch set off southwards for Fortrenn, Alclyde and a leisurely tour of the kingdom, before harvest, to let all see that the King was home. They took Lulach with them, advisedly.

They wintered that year at Dunsinane. There had been no overt move by Bishop Edmund of Durham.

It was in March that they heard from Gunnar Hound Tooth that Thorfinn had been ill. He had just returned from Galloway, apparently, and was feasting in his own hall, when he had fallen back off his bench unconscious, blue in the face. He had made a good recovery, with the Countess watching over him like a hen with one chick, and was well again now. Indeed, he was reputed to be dismissing it all as a nonsense, a mere mistake, not true sickness—he who had never known a day's illness in his life. Something he had eaten, undoubtedly. He would have to hang his cook.

MacBeth was inclined to agree with that verdict; but Gruoch, womanlike, was less confident.

An interesting and unexpected echo of the Rome visit reached MacBeth in the spring, in the person of a wandering Cluniac friar, one Odo, a Norman, seeking the King of Scots at Dunsinane. He came, he said, from England, from Peterborough, where the sainted King Edward the Confessor presently held his Court. He had come to Scotland at the behest, not of the King but of a fellow-countryman of his own, Sir Osbert Pentecost, Captain of the King's Norman bodyguard, whom he had brought to England with him after his long exile by Canute in Normandy. Now all Normans were finding life very difficult in England, for the Earl Godwin of Wessex, the King's father-in-law who really ruled the country, like most Saxons had a hatred of them and was seeking to drive them all from the land. Pentecost and the others, indeed, were under notice to leave the King's service, and England, the Norman guard being dissolved, unhappy as was the King-Confessor over it all. Sir Osbert had heard that King MacBeth was friendly towards his compatriots, and interested in Norman military skills and prowess, and now wondered whether he would be prepared to employ some of Edward's former bodyguard? Friars could travel at will, hence Odo's mission.

MacBeth agreed that he was indeed interested—but equally so in learning how such information had reached the Court of the King of England?

Friar Odo explained. One of Sir Osbert's lieutenants was Sir Hugo Despard, whose brother had spoken with King MacBeth in Rome. Sir Hugo had sent a letter to his brother relating the present sorry state of the Norman knights in England and asking whether there might be suitable employment for them in Rome. The answer mentioned the King of Scots.

MacBeth accepted that. He would be happy to welcome Sir Osbert and a number of his colleagues to Scotland. Not as a bodyguard—for which he felt no need—but to teach the Scots useful skills in the art of war. The Normans might come as soon as they wished.

The friar had to point out a difficulty, however. His compatriots were watched all the time, by the Saxons. Earl Godwin was a suspicious man, and he was more or less at permanent feud with Earl Siward the Dane. He desired the Normans to be sent back to their own country, not to go over to his enemies. He would never permit them to travel northwards openly, to or beyond Siward's territories. So, their coming would have to be secret, contrived.

It did not take MacBeth long to decide that the escape must be achieved by sea. The Normans must be picked up on some lonely stretch of coast. It had better be on the Mercian shore, rather than the Anglian. Earl Leofric of Mercia hated his rival Godwin, and, if he came to know of it, would be unlikely to prevent the Normans from sailing, if it was to spite Godwin. A small, fast Scots flotilla would collect them, with Odo acting as go-between.

In the end MacBeth put Farquhar and Martacus in charge of the venture, as good experience for them of independent command—Lulach he could scarcely rely upon, unfortunately. In four galleys they left the Tay a few days later, taking Friar Odo with them. They would drop him by night as near to Peterborough as they could win, then retire northwards some way, to lie off the Mercia coast at an agreed point, out of sight of land by day but moving in at night, watching for signals—say two beacon fires some distance apart—to indicate when the refugee Normans were in position. It was hoped that the business could be arranged and carried out in two or three days. But if anything went wrong and the Normans were unable to make their escape, an alternative signal, perhaps
three
fires, would be given, and the ships would turn and make home for Scotland. A heavy responsibility would rest with the friar, but he seemed to be prepared to accept that.