David the Prince - Scotland 03 (31 page)

David had no reason to complain of any delay or hampering on their journey — not because of the women anyway, for she took a tirewoman and a maid-servant with her, and ensured that they were good horsewomen. Nevertheless it took eight days to reach Caer-luel, through a rain-soaked and high-rivered countryside.

There he found all reasonably well, although the Viscount Richard had broken a leg hunting and Hugo de Morville, not wishing to trouble David in the circumstances, had taken temporary command — and appeared to have done very well. David was thankful that it was not Hervey de Warenne who had taken this initiative, and whose methods might well have displayed more vigour than tact. Fergus of Galloway, of course, was a tower of strength, to the north — even though his own methods likewise caused David some little anxiety.

Matilda settled in well amongst the mainly Norman establishment at Caer-luel, all young men and appreciative of feminine company, especially when good-looking. From the first, David found her a positive help in his administration,

indeed, not only in that he could discuss problems and policies with her, knowing that she understood and approved his general attitudes, but that, in backing them up before the others she enhanced his authority. He had ample powers, to be sure, to
enforce
his authority, but preferred to carry his colleagues with him. And Matilda emanated a quiet but unmistakable air of authority of her own.

To remind all that he was back, and in the saddle, David made a tour round the Scottish territories under his supervision, when April made travel through the Lowland hills practicable. He took Matilda - indeed part of the object was to introduce her to Scotland in general and, if possible, to Alexander its king in particular.

Of course Shiel Kirk was early on the list of calls. Matilda was enchanted with the place and much interested in all that went on. Clearly she made a great impression on Prior Ralph. In fact, her enthusiasm was such that her husband began to judge her almost as much a danger to his treasury as was the Prior, approving of this extension and that and suggesting further improvements and refinements of her own. And she was in a position to all but choke off his guarded doubts and protests by asking him why he thought that she had handed over to him in its entirety one of the richest earldoms in England, if it was not that the might no longer have to worry over matters such as this? What more worthy use was there for Huntingdon's wealth then glorifying God adequately in this lovely place?

The work was, in fact, proceeding apace, although winter conditions had apparently held things up somewhat. Least progress showed on the church itself, inevitably, for on this all must be perfection, the masonry hewn to an exacting standard, . the carving meticulous - and skilled masons did not grow on every tree of the Forest of Ettrick. As well as the building work, ground was being cleared for crop-growing, orchards and gardens, essential drainage put in hand, and the beginnings of the sheep and cattle stock accumulated. More money was urgently-required.

From Shiel Kirk they mad
e their way down Tweed to Ersil
doune in Lauderdale, where Cospatrick welcomed them warmly. He took them to see the small Benedictine monastery of Melross, founded by his father for his own purposes, and now rather run-down and neglected, with only three or four monks remaining. The site was dramatic, on a high spine of land where Leader met Tweed, the place all but islanded. The buildings however were utilitarian, modest. David found himself inclined to boast moderately how much finer the Abbey of Shiel Kirk was going to be - until he caught Matilda's amused glance.

Whilst at Ersildoune they made an excursion further down Tweed a dozen miles, to where Teviotdale branched off westwards. Two items took David there. In the Forest of Jedworth, near the mouth of Teviotdale, his eldest brother Edward, Prince of Strathclyde, had died in 1093, wounded at Alnmouth where his father had been slain, the spot now marked and being called Edward's Aisle. Also, the Northumbrian border came close here, and there had been a number of raids by Northumbrians recently into Cospatrick's territories, which called for redress. So David made a pilgrimage to Edward's Aisle, and arranged to have a stone carved, in the Celtic fashion, and set up there. He had been only nine years at Edward's death but remembered him as quite the finest, noblest of his brothers as well as the eldest, a most grievous loss to Scotland. Surveying part of the march with Northumbria, David was struck by the remarkably strong natural position and strategic significance of a site there named Rook's Burgh, where Teviot joined Tweed, the two great rivers forming a long whaleback ridge at their confluence, this with a notably narrow neck which, if ditched and moated, would make the position all but impregnable. Indeed there were the remains of fortifications crumbling thereon, presumably Pictish. A strong c
astl
e sited there would be of enormous value in protecting a vulnerable section of the borderline from Northumbrian invasion. David promised to speak to Alexander about this. Cospatrick pointed out, incidentally, that the Forest of Jedworth, part of the greater Ettrick, was quite the finest piece of hunting territory in Southern Scotland.

Leaving Cospatrick after a couple of days, they moved on northwards up Lauderdale, Matilda delighted with this fair land of tall green hills, foaming rivers, heather moors and forests of gnarled and ancient pines, such as they never saw in the South. From the head of Lauderdale they climbed over a lofty pass of the Lammermuir hills, and from its summit looked out over the lovely land of Lothian, wide, rich and fertile, to the gleaming cordon of the Scottish Sea, blue and silver, with Fife beyond, and away to the north-west the jagged purple outliers of the Highland mountains. In the middle distance rose the isolated peak of Arthur's Chair and its neighbouring fort-crowned rock of Dunedin, where David had watched at his mother's death-bed twenty-one years before and at Edgar's unhappy couch more recently. The sight aroused mixed feelings in that man, but his wife, used to the more level landscapes of East Anglia and the Fens, exclaimed that she had never seen so magnificent a vista.

They came to Edinburgh, tired, in the long light of an early May evening, with the afterglow behind the hills beyond the Scotwater. Less than eager for the gloomy atmosphere of the fortress-palace up on the rock, David sought the hospitality of the Celtic Church cashel of St. Nicholas, under Arthur's Chair, where they were kindly, if simply, entertained, despite the suspicions with which that Church viewed the Rome-inclined present royal house. They got on very well with the Columban monks, in fact.

In the morning they climbed up to Dunedin, mainly to visit the tiny, plain Queen's Chapel which Margaret had built for her own private worship, so astonishingly different from the splendid minster she had erected at Dunfermline. In this quiet and humble shrine, so much more like a Celtic cell indeed than one of her own Romish churches, they said a prayer for her soul's peace - which was not in doubt - and another for their own, which might well be. Then they set off on the thirty-five mile journey through the west of Lothian and Calatria, for Stirling, with the Scottish Sea narrowing to the Firth of Forth on their right.

But once again Stirling, Alexander's capital, where the Forth narrowed itself sufficiently to be bridged, and another rock like Dunedin, fort-crowned, dominated the crossing, failed to produce the King. A restless man, he was always off somewhere, they were told, this time apparently up into Drumalban, North Atholl where, on an island in Loch Tay of all places, he was building a nunnery in his mother's memory - why there, was obscure. But Sir Eustace de Morville, Hugo's uncle, first Edgar's and now Alexander's Great Constable, was there, and received them warmly, declaring that it was not worth their while to go further, for the King was due back within two days for a council meeting. On enquiry, they learned that Queen Sybilla was not with her husband, indeed it appeared that she seldom was, maintaining her own establishment on her dowry lands of Clunie, on the Ore, in Fife, and going her own way.

So the visitors waited at Stirling. The following day David took Matilda for an excursion into the Highland hills readily accessible, where her joy in fine scenery was further stimulated by the sight of Lochs Menteith, Ard and Chon and their surrounding bens of rock and heather.

They got back to Stirling to find Alexander returned, and glad to see them, especially Matilda. He had a roving eye for women, and quickly came to a due appreciation of his new sister-in-law's qualities. He had seen her before, at his wedding, but only briefly. Now he did not hide his admiration - and it was clear that he was used to having his way with women.

To temper the process David enquired after the Queen - and was unprepared for the answer.

Alexander snorted. "Henry dealt me an ill bargain there!" he declared, without the least constraint. "Sybilla serves me little, as wife or queen!"

"I am sorry. And . . . still no children?"

"She is barren." The King grinned. "I have proved sufficiently otherwhere that the fault is not mine! Indeed, she glories in it, lies with whom she will, in despite of me! It was an ill match you came making that day, Davie! You have done a deal better for yourself." He turned to Matilda.

"Think you he did it of a purpose?"

She looked surprised. "How that, Sire?"

"Did he not tell you? He brought me Henry's offer of Sybilla. Advising acceptance. To bind our two kingdoms closer. Like a fool I agreed. I wonder if he
knew
that she would never bear me a son? So Davie himself is now my heir! Is it not simple?"

"Never heed him, Matilda," David said. "He but cozens you."

"Is it cozening to say that you are heir to my throne? And brought me Henry Beauclerc's proposal?"

"I have never thought of myself as heir," David declared. "You are young yet - not two years older than am I. You could yet have lawful sons . . ."

"But not on Sybilla — and there's the rub! And, since she is Henry's daughter, I can by no means put her away. I am held fast. So you, my dear new sister, God willing, will one day be Queen of Scots!"

She shook her lovely head. "I am older than you, if David is not."

"Ah, but you do not have men seeking your blood - whatever else they may seek of you, woman!" he said, deep-voiced. "As they will seek
yours
,
if so be you become King one day!" he added, pointing a finger at his brother. "Mind it. Three times I have been assailed, with inte
nt to slay. Our father slew Mac
Beth and Lulach. Their kin will slay me if they can — and you after me. Never forget that. The northern line seek the throne and will have it if they can."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"You had a close escape at Invergowrie last year, Alex, I heard," David said.

"It was MacBeth's grandsons, with a host from Moray and Ross. That was sufficiently ill. But I esteem it worse that the Mormaors of Mar and the Mearns sent me no word. They must have known that this force marched through their lands. Only Gillibride of Angus sent me warning, just in time. I shall not forget that."

"You believe that Mar and the Mearns deliberately withheld warning to you? That they do not support the Crown? Two of your lesser kings?"

"Yes."

"Why? Have you done aught to offend them?"

"No more than any firm hand can offend, at times. And this Scotland needs a firm hand, God knows! Edgar, whose hand was palsied, proved that. Our Father's hand was sufficiently firm, although he was not loved. But since then . . ."

"If some of your mormaors do not support you, Alex-whom
do
they support? You are crowned High King, on the Stone of Destiny. To whom they have given their oaths of fealty. What is the alternative?"

"There are over-many alternatives, man - with aspirations to the throne. A plague of them! There are these MacBeth's grandsons, Murdoch and Airbertach. There are Lulach's grandsons, the sons of Malsnechtan. And now, I hear, there are some who declare that Eth's son, Malcolm, should be Prince of Strathclyde. Eth himself is debarred, as a churchman - and besides, he has no desire for the throne. But he is our elder brother, and his son is not debarred from the succession. Moreover, he represents both the north and south lines of our house. Eth's wife was Malsnechtan's sister, Lulach's daughter. There is no question but that Lulach's line, through MacBeth's Queen Gruoch, was the senior branch of our royal house. MacBeth himself recognised it, by naming Lulach, his stepson, as heir, not his own sons. And, since I have produced no heir, and you are considered to be an Englishman, there is this talk."

"I have never thought of myself as in line for the throne, I tell you. If this other, Malcolm, our nephew, would help to unite the realm, then make him Prince of Strathclyde indeed."

"No, no. That would raise as many problems as it would solve! MacBeth's grandsons of Moray and Ross would have none of it. They see Malcolm MacEth as representing the northern line only through the female side, whereas they are sons of sons. Forby, there could still be another objector to either of these. Our cousin Madach of Atholl. His father, Melmore, was lawful brother to
our
father, who was illegiti
mate. Moreover he has married Hakon of Orkney's daughter, .who is great-grand-daughter of Thorfinn Raven Feeder, himself grandson of Malcolm the Second. Madach says that he has no ambitions for the throne, himself. But if I am without heir, and you are one of Henry's earls, then he believes that his child Angus has more right to be King than any of these others. Saints he
lp us — what a coil! You see how
friendship with Henry has cost our house? You, on
e of his earls, myself his sonle
ss good-son!"