David the Prince - Scotland 03 (38 page)

"Ah — so you have seen Maud? Then you will be full of woes and sorrows, yes. She has a talent for sorrows!"

"She has reason, I think!"

"Have we not all?" Henry glanced over at his son. "But, come - I will show you my new camelopard. But recently come from the King of Ethiop. It is scarcely to be believed! William will entertain Adelicia . . ."

As they strolled amongst the cages and enclosures, Henry's affability ebbed. "I sent for you, David, for your own good," he said. "Building abbeys and castles is all excellent. But there are duties as well as such delights. I fear that you may be forgetting some of yours."

"Which are those, Sire? Of the many."

"To
o many, is it? Have I laid too much upon you? Shall I relieve you?"

"That is for your decision. In what have I been remiss?" "As one of my earls, one of the greatest, you have certain responsibilities. To me, as also to the earldom." "And in this I have failed?"

"In some way, yes. In Huntingdon and Northampton. These, amongst the richest in my realm. You skim the cream — but leave the milking and the churning to others! There is discontent there, trouble - and
my
interests suffer. My revenues and my entitlement in armed men. When fiefs are neglected, those go down."

"I know of no neglect, Sire. My stewards render their accounts regularly. And have reported nothing untoward."

"Would they, if they were themselves at fault? An earldom requires more than stewards — it requires an earl!"

"I cannot be in Cumbria and Strathclyde, and at the same time in Huntingdon and Northampton."

"Perhaps Strathclyde, then, is too much for you?"

"You
wished
me to accept Strathclyde from Alexander."

"Not to the hurt of Huntingdon and Northampton. The revenues of which you use to build abbeys in Scotland. Not to mention castles!"

So that was it - Rook's Burgh.

"Even when the castle, Sire, is built to keep the peace on
both
sides of march?"

"Castles do not always keep the peace, David. And this one sits on Scottish soil, threatening Northumbria. Built of English gold!"

"My, lord Henry - the peace of your realm, and of my brother's, is endangered by Northumbrian raiding. This I
know
,
sufficiently well - all in Cumbria know. These raiders remain unchecked by de Vesci, who acts as your Earl of Northumbria. Or by any of your officers. Or yet by Ranulf Flambard, Bishop of Durham. The Earl Cospatrick of Dunbar makes strong and frequent complaint. So, as my brother's deputy, I build the castle of Rook's Burgh at the most expedient point on the march. If Flambard, or other, feels himself to be threatened, he should complain to de Vesci, who should approach me. . ."

"God's blood, man - are you telling me, Henry, what should or should not be done in my realm!"

"I am but telling you why I build Rook's Burgh, Sire. And
why you
should not be concerned."

"I am concerned if my Northumbrian folk are concerned."

"Your Northumbrian folk
-
or Ranulf Flambard? Whom you used very much to distrust.!"

"Flambard has learned his lesson. He is a rogue - but a shrewd rogue. Firmly handled he can be a useful subject and servant."

"The day was when Your Grace would not have employed such servant!"

"Perhaps. But kings cannot always be so nice as to whom they would have to serve them. One
day,
you
may learn that! But - this of Huntingdon and Northampton. If you cannot yourself spend more time in these earldoms, then I say that you must appoint a deputy who can. A viscount or sheriff. I cannot have two such important fiefs mismanaged."

David, staring at a black Muscovy bear in a cage little longer than itself, sought to hold his voice steady. "I shall go to Earl's Thorpe and Earl's Barton before I return to the North, Highness. And seek to discover what may be wrong — which I have not heard of. And consider such appointment."

"You will do better than that, my friend! I have the man for you, the very man. Sir Gilbert of Leicester, my Sheriff of Cambridge. He is a most able man, and honest. A scholar. A benefactor of Holy Church, for he is well-born, with his own riches. Since he already administers my royal earldom of Cambridge for me, which flanks Huntingdon, it will be entirely convenient."

"But - I do not know the man!"

"But I do, David - I do! Is
my
recommendation insufficient for you?"

"If you say it must be so, Sire . . ."

"Exactly. Come - you have looked at that bear sufficiently long! The camelopard is yonder. You can see its neck from here

It took the younger man some little time to control his temper, marshal his wits and seek to rescue something from this sorry interview.

"If I agree to the appointment of this man, Sire, as deputy and sheriff - will you do something in my interest? Or in Scotland's? Some small matter to aid the good harmony between the two realms, to mutual benefit."

"If. . . ?" Henry was immediately wary.

"It is the matter of providing a new Bishop of St. Andrews. Alexander asked the Archbishop of Canterbury's aid two years past, but he has done nothing."

"If he had asked Thurstan of York, would he not have fared better?"

"You know that he will not do that, Sire. So long as York seeks hegemony over Scotland."

"It is not for me to interfere in the affairs of Holy Church."

"You said not so with Archbishop Anselm!"

"Anselm interfered in matters of
state
,
David."

"Nevertheless, your good-son the King of Scots, requests your aid."

"What can I do?"

"The Archbishop Ralph was of your appointing. He will much heed you."

"In such matters, I fear not."

"May I put it to the test, Sire? Can I go to Ralph and give him Alexander's message? Say that I have seen Your Grace and that you make no objection?"

"Why should I make objection?"

"Ah - I rejoice that you do not!"

"Not so fast, man — not so fast! I asked a question, did not give answer."

"
I
answer - no reason why you should find objection." "And I see no reason why I should intervene in no affair of mine."

"Perhaps then, Sire, that would be sufficient! May I tell the Archbishop that? That you see no reason to intervene in the matter?"

Henry turned to look at him, narrow-eyed. "You, my friend, grow importunate, I think!"

"How can you say that, Sire - if this matter is no concern of yours?"

"David - I will not be hedged and baited like this! Do not trade on my patience, man! Go to Ralph, if you must. But do not take him any message from me. You understand?"

"I do, Sire - oh, yes, I do!"

They stared at the extraordinary creature, the giraffe, but neither was really seeing it, despite its physical oddities.

David played his last card. "If the Archbishop will do nothing, I am authorised to go further, Sire. To the Abbot Bernard, at Clairvaux. To ask him use his influence with Pope Paschal to appoint the necessary bishop."

"Ha! So you would go that far! Alexander must be concerned, indeed? Is his position so precarious? But - at least I may save you a profitless journey, David. The good Abbot Bernard is dead."

"Dead? Bernard of Tiron . . . ?"

"The same. I had word that he died some months ago. A sad loss, no . . . ?"

David recognised that he was beaten. He could do no more here. Henry was equally percipient. He became affable again, particularly anent the giraffe.

As his visitors left next morning for Canterbury in Kent, they traded one last exchange.

"You will find Sheriff Gilbert a notable help, David," the King said. "Seek him at Cambridge. And, see you - build bridges, like your sister, rather than castles and abbeys! Maud has built a great bridge at London. This I can recommend. Bridges bring folk together - castles keep them apart."

"Maud would, I think, have y
ou to build a bridge, Henry -back to her side. She is unhappy - she who was your chief delight."

"And still is, to be sure - but a sad delight! She pines, man-she pines overmuch."

"She pines for her husband's company. She pines for William, her son."

"Then why shut herself up in that abbey? She should be here, at Woodstock. None to stop the Queen coming here!"

"Ask her, Henry - ask her to come. Send William to ask her."

"My salutations to the Archbishop," the King said abruptly. "And, mind it - that is the only message I send him!"

* * *

At the great cathedral and abbey of Canterbury in the Kentish plain of the Stour, David found the Archbishop Ralph to be an amiable man but weak, carefully chosen by Henry so that the frictions of Anselm's regime would not be repeated - and his choice no doubt acquiesced in by the Pope for similar reasons. Strong and opinionated archbishops were not always appreciated.

Ralph was defensive about h
is failure to do as the King of
Scots had requested, to send up a consecrated bishop for St. Andrews, making sundry excuses, and even claiming that there was no one suitable available. But when David insisted, and hinted at going direct to the Pope, also declaring that he had come from King Henry who left the matter entirely to the Archbishop, Ralph capitulated. Indeed, when David suggested the monk Eadmer, the Primate actually seemed to be slightly relieved. When that man was sent for, and proved to be a tall, thin, scholarly Saxon, short of sight and of a somewhat gloomy countenance, but strong-featured - stronger than his superior, David guessed - no real obstruction was put forward. Admittedly Eadmer showed no enthusiasm for the appointment, but he could scarcely refuse, and the Archbishop did not so advise. David clinched the matter by telling the monk that he could continue with writing his book on the life and miracles of the Blessed Anselm as readily in Scotland as here at Canterbury.

Thus, fairly easily, the visit was concluded, and David rode off after declaring that his royal brother, King Henry's son-in-law, would be well content - a sentiment which both prelate and monk rather noticeably failed to applaud.

They went northwards by Cambridge, as commanded, but visited Northampton and Huntingdon first. There, although David questioned his chief stewards for both earldoms closely, he could uncover no hint of any serious troubles or problems. In fact, the men were clearly mystified over his probings - and he would swear that they were honest, and long employed by the Countess Matilda. Unable to fault them, he asked, casually, what they knew of the Sheriff Gilbert of Cambridge?

They answered readily enough, both of them. Only good, they said. The Sheriff, although a King's officer, was a fine man, honest, fair, just. He had even founded a monastery, at a place called Merton.

Knowing something of the cost of founding monasteries, David wondered; but his informants assured him that Sir Gilbert's riches were not obtained by any oppressions, nor harsh appropriations of the tenantry, in the manner of so many. He appeared to have private wealth, and was clearly well-reared, even though his ancestry was something of a mystery. It was even suggested that he was one of the numerous natural sons of King William the Conqueror, and so a half-brother of King Henry.

So David journeyed eastwards from Huntingdon sixteen miles to Cambridge, where at Grantbridge Castle he found the Sheriff Gilbert, a busy man of affairs, working amongst papers and records and ledgers, with an office of clerks and secretaries - for it seemed that this strange man administered not only the royal earldom of Cambridge but those of other King's lands also, as well as certain wealth-creating matters for various monasteries, including the Cluniac St. Andrews of Northampton - which David had not realised. Although prepared to find this individual, who had been foisted upon him, more or less objectionable, in fact during the day he spent with him, David could not but like as well as admire the man. He judged him to be as effective as he was unassuming and tactful. It was evident that he had already been informed by Henry of the new duties he was to take up, even though he obviously assumed that it was all with the Earl's agreement, if not at his behest. David did not disillusion him. They discussed the business and concerns of the two earldoms at some length - and here too David learned of no serious difficulties or irregularities. He came to the conclusion that these were no more than an invention of the King to provide excuse for the imposition of this Sir Gilbert's care and oversight. This, in turn, might have inclined him to be the more resentful - only that, talking to the Sheriff, he could not fail to realise that it might well be much to his advantage to have such an able, scrupulous and experienced deputy on the spot. In fact, even whilst they talked, Gilbert, a man old enough to be David's father, tentatively suggested half-a-dozen alterations and improvements in the administration of various aspects of the vast estates, which patently could be beneficial and profitable to all concerned. David, indeed, in their short time together, really recognised for the first time something of the great potential of the lands, manors, fishings, villages, even towns, which he had acquired by his marriage, something Matilda herself had scarcely been competent to explain.