David the Prince - Scotland 03 (21 page)

David ordered another and still more peremptory blast. They moved still closer to the arena.

At last the desired result was produced. Out of much stir and commotion amongst the throng to the west, now seen to be a mixture of Orkneymen and Galwegians, notably different in their garb, a group began to push through from the centre, in the direction of the waiting party under the white flag. As these drew nearer, through the seething, panting, bleeding press, they were clearly all Vikings save for two, big men with long shaggy fair hair and beards, wearing winged and bulls'-horned helmets, leather tunics with metal scales as armour, and thong-tied breeches. Some were bleeding and battered, but all looked arrogantly assured. Different were the pair of local chiefs with them, darker, slighter, more wiry, in saffron kilts and sleeveless calf-skin jerkins, seeming a deal less confident. The central figure was a young giant of a man with hot blue eyes, no beard but with thin, down-turning moustaches, both forearms almost half-hidden under golden snake-bracelets. He had a slashed cheek, but grinned as he came.

"Earl Hakon Hakonsson?" David called, as they drew near. "I am your kinsman, David mac Malcolm of Scotland, Earl of Cumbria. Greetings!" The relationship was very distant; their great-great-grandmothers had been sisters.

"David? Henry's hound dog!" the other shouted back. "What seek you in my Galloway? With such host? If it is robbers and rogues you seek, there they are to your hand!" And he pointed towards Fergus's people.

"Not you
r Galloway, friend. My brother Alexander's Galloway. And the Lord Fergus, there, is its new governor."

"Who says so, to Hakon Claw of Orkney?"

"I
say so, cousin. And I speak for King Alexand
er and King Henry both. No Orkne
yman, under Norway, may any more rule in Galloway, Strathclyde or Cumbria."

"Large words for so puny a man! But
only
words, David mac Malcolm!"

"I prefer words - and they can be sharper than swords, see you. But - I have swords also."

"I care not for your swords any more than for your words, man! Here I rule. Here I stay."

"We shall see. I fear that I have credited you with more nimble wits than you possess, friend. The Lord Ferg
us said as much. But I
believed otherwise." David shrugged. He turned towards his companions. "Here is the Earl Cospatrick of Dunbar. And his brother the Earl Dolfin, whom you know. And this is the Viscount d'Avranches. And Hervey de Warenne, son to the Earl of Surrey. And others equally illustrious. King Olaf of Man could not be with us, but he has sent
his fleet. It lies off your bay
of St. Cuthbert - as perhaps has been reported to you?"

The other said nothing.

"These friends of yours," David gestured towards the two native chiefs. "They will no longer be able to support you. Now that you are no more governor here. They are subjects of the King of Scots and must needs support his representative. You agree, my friends?"

When neither of the pair answered him, however uneasy they looked, he changed his tone of voice suddenly, dramatically.

"Names?" he all but snapped.

"Colin of Dunrod, my lord," the cider said quickly. "Murdoch of Borguc."

"And some of these men fighting are yours'?" They nodded.

"Then withdraw them. Withdraw them all. Now. Under pain of treason."

It was the moment of truth, of decision. The chieftains eyed each other, looked at Hakon Claw and then back to David.

Fergus helped by choosing this moment to come striding over, limping, looking grim, Hugo with him.

"Do you know these two, my lord?" David called, to him. "Dunrod and Borgue?"

"I know them. And will know them better before I am done! Turncoats! Traitors!"

"No! No!" They cried that, as one.

"So long as the Earl Hakon was governor . . ." Dunrod pointed out, urgently.

"What else could we do?" the younger man asked, almost pleaded.

"Snivelling curs!" Hakon Claw roared. "White livered rats!"

"Not so, my lord Earl, but loyal subjects of my brother the King," David observed mildly. "Or will be hereafter, pray God!"

"Yes, yes, my good lord Prince . . ."

The die was cast, and all knew it, decision crystallised — and on the face of it decision made by the least important, least influential there. The Orkneymen could not prevail now, could not stand out in the face of the overwhelming forces David had marshalled against them. It only remained to seek to make capitulation easier for Hakon Claw to swallow, make the draught more tolerable before all, Viking pride acknowledged.

"My royal brother and good-brother will no doubt consider some suitable compensation in view of your. . . retirement, my lord Hakon," David said. "I shall so advise when I report your excellent acceptance of the change of governorship. Some recompence for loss sustained."

Fergus snorted and Hakon Claw glowered. But no other comment was made.

"No doubt you will wish to retire to your own Orkney Isles? How soon can you leave?"

"Leave
...?".

"Leave Galloway, yes. We do not wish for trouble between your people and mine. Or the Lord Fergus's. Nor yet the folk of Kirk Cuthbert's Town. Nor the Manxmen. It would be unfortu
nate if there was any paying off
of old scores. As might well be. Do you not agree? With so large a combined host as I command, I cannot promise to protect you and your ships from attack. From those who might esteem themselves as having debts to settle! Your raidings here, in Cumbria, in Man, even over in Ireland, have made you many unfriends, I fear. The sooner your longships are at sea, the better, I think."

"I am not afraid of your rabble, Earl David."

"Perhaps not. But I
am. Knowing their temper. The Manx fleet will not enter St. Cuthbert's Bay until I signal them. I can order them to let your ships through, unharmed. Today. But if they were to come ashore tonight."

"I have a strong fort at Kirk Cuthbert's Town."

"You cannot take your ships into your fort, my lord. You will not wish them to be burned? Or sunk?"

Hakon Claw looked away. "So be it," he said, at last.

"Tonight, then."

"Tonight."

"The weather is none so ill. For your voyage."

"I care not for weather. Any more than for your threats."

"To be sure. All know of the Vikings' powers at sea . . ."

So it was accepted. The Orkneymen and Fergus's people began their disengagement - not without some further scuffling — and withdrew their dead and wounded. The leaders returned to their own hosts. David sat waiting, up on the ridge, until Hakon Claw led his Vikings back to the town and haven. The local forces who had started the day with them seemed to melt away.

Fergus came back, after seeing to his own folk. "You have a tongue in you, Davie," he said. "You had that Orkneyman roped and tied. After I had hobbled him for you!"

"Had you left it to my talking he would still have gone, I think. And you would have saved the lives of many men, Fergus. How many have you lost?"

"No great number. No. more than I can afford. Someone has to do the fighting, see you."

"That I question. I say show your strength. Be prepared to fight - but only if you must. Sharp wits will often serve better than sharp steel!"

"Are these men's words? Or women's?"

"Does it matter? So long as you gain your ends. And at less cost. I care not which. But, indeed, they were a woman's words to me. My mother's. Her wits won more victories for my father than ever did his over-ready sword! She taught me much."

Fergus inclined his dark head. "I cannot dispute with Margaret the Queen!" he acceded.

8

David approached Dunbar Castle
, in Lothian, somewhat doubtfully, uncertain of his reception. Not from Cospatrick, of course - he would make him welcome enough. It was Alexander's attitude which could be in doubt, this summons a questionable joy. Cospatrick had sent a messenger to Caer-luel merely saying that King Alexander desired his brother's attendance at Dunbar on Scarce Thursday. No details, no indications or warnings.

David recognised only too well that he had taken chances in his move against Hakon Claw in November, used Alexander's name and authority without proper permission, acted in what his brother might construe as a high-handed fashion. The fact that the thing had needed to be done, and that Alexander himself was doing nothing about it, did not mean that the venture, however successful in the event, might not be frowned upon by the King of Scots. Especially when he might feel that his young brother was indeed seeking to exercise the functions of Prince of Strathclyde, as bequeathed to him by the late Edgar against Alexander's wishes.

But when they came to meet, in the curious sea-girt stronghold on its rocks-top site, Alexander revealed no trace of resentment nor displeasure. He was not an affectionate man by nature, nor demonstrative in any way save when angered. But he seemed to be in good enough spirits this fine April evening, although David thought, looking a deal older than when they had last seen each other four years before, at the wedding. Perhaps marriage did not agree with him.

"So, brother, it is good to see you," the King said, proffering a quick self-conscious embrace. "Man, you look well. Being Henry's watch-dog in the North suits you, it seems."

"I am glad to have work to do, yes." David was wary still. "I am kept engaged. And you my lord King?"

"I do not ail. But
...
I feel twice my years! Who would be a king, Davie?"

"
You
would, Alex, I think! Despite the burden."

"Perhaps. Yet it is a thankless task. Sometimes I could wish . . ." He shrugged, leaving that unfinished.

"And the Lady Sybilla? The Queen?" "She is well enough, I believe." "You believe . . . ?"

"I see little of her. She finds her own . . . amusements. At the Ward. I have lent her the Ward of the Stormounth. She keeps her own Court there. For a bastard, she has large notions!"

"And no children? No heir?"

"No heir. But, see you, I did not come here to talk about Sybilla." They stood on one of the many bridges of red masonry which linked together the stark rocks, rising from the swirling tides, on which that strange castle was built. "I have a deal more serious matter in mind."

David waited.

"I need your help, Davie. You have proved yourself to be a man of some wits. And this business requires wits. Careful handling."

Surprised, he looked at his brother. "Not . . . Galloway?"

"No, no - Galloway can wait. It is our father, Davie - his body. See you, it is time that he was brought home. To Scotland. From that Tynemouth. Unsuitable that he should lie there, little regarded. Too long it has been. Now Holy Trinity Minster is near finished. Our mother's great church, at Dunfermline. Edgar carried on the work. As have I. It is near done
-
a noble monument. I thought to mark its completion by bringing back our father's body from its poor grave at Tynemouth, and placing it beside our mother's, before the high altar she erected. This I would do."

Still more surprised, that this headstrong, down-to-earth brother should be concerned for such a thing, David nodded.

"An excellent project," he agreed. "What can I do to help?"

"It is difficult. These churchmen - a plague on them all! You know that I am having trouble with Turgot? Our mother's friend and confessor, who was Prior of Durham. Whom I made Bishop of St. Andrew's when I gained the throne. He is proving obdurate."

"That I can believe. For he was ever a determined man. But what has this to do with our father's body?"

"He says that once given Christian burial, the body cannot be exhumed without the authority of Holy Church. And since our father is buried, where he fell, at Tynemouth, in the See of Durham, authority to exhume may only be given by the Bishop of Durham. And I am at odds with that man, Flambard!"

"Ah!" So it was Ranulf F
lambard again, Rufus's one-time
minion and hater of things Scots. "I also know Flambard. He will not give permission for the exhumation?"

"No. Or he says that, in the case of a king, it should be given by his superior, the new Archbishop of York. And I will not go seeking
his
permission either! For he claims spiritual rule over Scotland, in his arrogance - which I will not have. To go to this Thomas the Second and ask his permission, would be as good as admitting his false claim. Turgot could resolve this coil, but will not. For he supports the Archbishop's claim to rule the Chur
ch in Scotland. He says that
he,
as Bishop of St. Andrews, is the Archbishop's repre
sentative. I will not have it! I
appointed him, not York. Or Durham."