Macbeth the King (53 page)

For the realm was in no state to mount a sufficiently major campaign to oust the invaders. Lothian could be reinforced quickly from Northumberland by land and sea—and by sea also could come further flanking attacks to the Scots rear, should they march southwards. MacBeth was learning now how much he had owed to Thorfinn's former mastery of the seas. Siward would never have dared to make that sally to the Tay had Thorfinn been other than a house-bound wreck. So, in effect, MacBeth's kingdom had shrunk to Alba again, Scotland north of the Forth and Clyde, with Galloway an appanage and weakness in present circumstances, rather than any flanking strength—for nothing was surer than that Siward would not be long in seeking to grasp foi Galloway again.

Within weeks of the battle the enemy's further strategy was made evident. Malcolm Big Head declared himself
de facto
King of Strathclyde, Cumbria and Lothian, and
de jure
King of Scots, clearly with Siward's backing, a puppet but a dangerous one. Various inferences could be drawn from this. A permanent occupation of Lothian and the South must be intended; and a further attack on Alba, the North, sooner or later.

MacBeth found his internal position sadly weakened. As well as the heavy loss of manpower, he had lost some renown and credibility inevitably, his people's faith in his invincibility shaken. He felt that it was not so much the fact that he had been defeated—if defeat it was adjudged—but that he had been outwitted, outmanoeuvred. Perhaps this failure was more in his own mind than in his people's—so Gruoch assured him—but he felt it strongly. Moreover, the Scots monarchy depended greatly, by its very nature, on the lesser kings, the mormaors. And MacBeth was now totally weak in this respect. Fife was an outright enemy. Atholl was without a mormaor. Strathearn was dead, leaving only an infant son. Lennox was now old, his slain heir leaving only a daughter. Angus was sickly and weak,
his
heir also slain. Which left only the group of North-East mormaors, Colin of the Mearns, Martacus of Mar and Lachlan of Buchan—since Moray was Farquhar's inheritance, Ross Luctacus's, and Caithness and Sutherland Thorfinn's. And Thorfinn's only reported activity these days was the building of a fine stone church or minster at Birsay, of all things, to be called Christ's Church and to be the earl's burial place. This news spreading all over Alba, was seen by many as the writing-on-the-wall indeed. So the centre of gravity of the Scots kingdom suffered a distinct and definite shift to the North-East, towards the old kingdom of the Northern Picts in fact, with unavoidable weakening of Fortrenn and the South.

All this did not leave MacBeth inactive or spiritless, to be sure, however ominously he looked on the future. Indeed he led one military counter-stroke, modest in scale but important and successful. Malcolm Canmore, based in Stirling, had put a small force
north
of the strategic Forth crossing, to hold the causewayhead there, below Craig Kenneth, so that any Scots assault would have to run the gauntlet of the narrow crossing, instead of
vice versa.
Making a sudden surprise attack on this from the Allan Water front, really a feint, the King slipped a larger force down behind, to the east, through the Ochil passes, by night, to take the causewayhead from the rear and then to turn and trap the enemy between his two companies, wiping them out. So now the Scots held and manned the causeway again, and the King slept somewhat easier in his bed of nights.

But that easier sleep was only comparative. It was a grievous state of affairs to have the English permanently established only some twenty-five miles, as the crow flew, from Cairn Beth, Dunsinane and Scone. Until he could manage to mount a full-scale attack over Forth on Lothian, and eventually on Northumbria, it was not practical politics to maintain his seat of government in so exposed a position. So, with mixed feelings indeed, he transferred his Court and administration north to Moray, and Gruoch and the family to the House of Spynie. He himself felt bound to spend a considerable part of his time in Fortrenn still, although he shut up Cairn Beth and occupied spartan quarters in the old palace of Dunsinane, with what remained of his Normans. Here he maintained a small but alert and highly-trained standing army, ready for immediate action, under Glamis the Constable, who though now an oldish man, remained vigorous and the best soldier in the land.

Word from Galloway was not immediately alarming. Young Paul Thorfinnson was now permanently there, as his father's deputy, although Harald Cleft Chin, who had married a Galloway woman, remained in effective control, and Sween Kennedy called himself Lord of Galloway again. The invading force there had indeed been only a sham, to distract, and having served its purpose was withdrawn. MacBeth appointed his nephew Paul Governor of Galloway in his father's place, which regularised the situation and might help to keep the Orkney forces, and especially sea-power, active in the Scots interest. Although with Thorfinn's strong hand removed from the steering-oar, how long that power would mean much, was doubtful.

So passed the remainder of 1054 and early 1055, with Scotland as it were partitioned but with no major hostilities. There were cross-Forth and Scottish Sea raids, on both sides, some revolts in Lothian against the invaders, enemy armed excursions into Strathclyde and the like, but no real warfare. Malcolm Canmore, MacBeth learned, although nominally in charge of Lothian and the Merse, still spent most of his time in Northumberland, as did MacDuff, leaving control of the occupying forces to professional soldiers.

Then, the following spring, Siward died suddenly, transforming the situation. Apparently he had never been quite the same man since returning from Scotland. He had been slightly wounded, but it was in the spirit that he had been more gravely hurt; for if MacBeth saw it as a defeat, so did Siward; and the loss of his only son was a dire blow. The old warrior suffered a stroke, made but a poor recovery, and then was felled by another.

With his nephew also slain at the Earn, the only heir he left was his younger sister Queen Sybil's son, Donald Ban mac Duncan—whom he had always scorned and mistreated. In this situation, King Edward the Confessor saw his opportunity to remove a danger and divisive factor in his realm, and appointed Tostig, his brother-in-law, the late Earl Godwin's third son, as Earl of Northumbria and Deira.

MacBeth knew a considerable relief, for Tostig's interests were all towards the South of England and he was unlikely to inherit Siward's fondness for Malcolm Big Head. There was the danger, of course, that this could cut both ways, and that Malcolm, no longer in favour at Bamburgh, might be the more urgent and active about his Scottish ambitions.

The King decided to try to take a hand in this power-game. He made proclamation that in the new circumstances he was prepared to overlook past inimical acts of his subjects. Donald Ban mac Duncan in especial had taken no part in the recent shameful invasion of Scotland; and as eldest legitimate grandson of the late Crinan, was true heir to his mortuath. He therefore appointed him Mormaor of Atholl, and would welcome him back to Scotland, to take oath of fealty to him as Ard Righ. Also his lady-mother, the former Queen Sybil, if she cared to come. But not the illegitimate Malcolm Canmore, who had taken arms against his lawful sovereign, named himself King, and now by force occupied part of his monarch's domains. Likewise Duncan MacDuff, formerly of Fife.

MacBeth's hope was to drive a wedge between these half-brothers, and possibly Maldred also, and so break up something of the threat from the house of Crinan, under the new dispensation in Northumbria. He did not know where Donald Ban might be, but it was just possible that this might fetch him.

* * *

MacBeth reached his fiftieth birthday that year, and the fifteenth anniversary of his coronation. Gruoch insisted that they celebrate, although her husband was scarcely enthusiastic. Games were arranged for a great gathering at Forres, contests of skill and strength and arms, the King himself taking active part despite his newly-discerned venerability, and both Farquhar

—fully recovered from his wound—and Luctacus distinguishing themselves. There was a Norman-style tournament organised by Sir Hugo. Because Gruoch found all this rather too evidently military, reflecting present preoccupations and forebodings, different sorts of activities were added, competitions and displays of piping, fiddling, dancing, metal-working, design, even stone-carving, a Pictish art which still flourished richly. And in the quiet September evening of the Exaltation of the Cross a great open-air feasting for hundreds, on the shore of Spynie Loch, the royal family in the midst.

It was towards the end of the repast, with most of the eating done and the drinking scarcely started, that two young men came pushing through the throng towards the royal table, dressed richly but clearly for the road rather than for feasting, tired-looking and indeed peat-spattered. Gruoch grasped her husband's arm.

"Lulach!" she murmured. "He has not failed you, after all."

Lulach had been invited to the celebrations, of course, but had not said that he would come—and MacBeth for one had scarcely expected to see him..

The King rose to welcome his step-son, as did all at the table—for this was, to be sure, the heir to the throne, however detached and unpopular. Gruoch probably was the only person there who had any real regard for him, although his half-brothers and sister tried their best.

"I rejoice to see you, son," MacBeth said, less than truthfully, as the other made his sketchy obeisance. "You have come from

Mamore? A long and rough road. You have not brought Malvina?"

"She is with child again," the younger man said expression-lessly, and went to kiss his mother. He turned back in his abrupt way. "I have brought another. Whom you have not seen. The Prince Donald mac Duncan."

Astonished, MacBeth turned to the other young man. He was stocky, notably fair-haired to account for his by-name of Ban, with undistinguished open, indeed freckled, features—but with a distinctly wary look not dissimilar to Lulach's own, although otherwise they had little in common. Save perhaps their destiny. He was about the same age as Farquhar, twenty years.

"Greetings, cousin," the King said, holding out his hand. "Your grandmother and my mother were sisters. Yet we have never met."

The other dropped on one knee to kiss the outstretched hand. "Your servant, lord King," he said thickly. "Our paths have been laid down...apart."

"True. Where, then, have your paths taken you these past years? Not in my realm?"

"But yes, Highness. I have been dwelling in the islands. Of the West. The Hebrides. In a monastery on the Long Isle, called Rowadill, Harris. But—I fear that I am not made for a monkish life."

"Save us—in the Isles! And I knew not of it. For years? Yet none told me—Thorfinn, Gillaciaran, Somerled, Abbot Robartach..."

"None knew, Highness. It was kept close."

"But why? And why there?"

"It was feared...what you might do. My Uncle Maldred persuaded my mother to send me. From Bamburgh, five years ago. The Earl Siward did not love me. My uncle was kind. He said that perhaps I should be a priest. After all, I am grandson and heir of Crinan, the Primate. One day I might be Abbot of Dunkeld, he said..."

"Or King of Scots!" MacBeth murmured softly.

"No, lord. That, they said, was reserved for my brother Malcolm. The Earl Siward was hot on that. The Abbot of Rowadill was kin to us, so I was sent there, secretly. It is a remote place. But...I have discovered that I am no priest, Highness."

Introductions over, they sat the young man down between the King and Gruoch, Lulach at his mother's other side, and plied them with food whilst the entertainment proceeded. Donald seemed to be a straightforward and uncomplicated individual, with little of the attitude which might have been anticipated towards the man who had slain his father—whom, of course, he had scarcely known.

When the edge was off the visitors' hunger, MacBeth went on, after having congratulated Lulach on his further proof of virility.

"What made you flee the monastery, cousin? After five years."

"A bishop from Iona visited us. He knew who I was and told me that you, Highness, had proclaimed me Mormaor of Atholl and offered me place in Scotland again. At first I thought it but a ruse, to get me into your power, to use me, perhaps, as hostage, against my brother Malcolm. But Bishop Colbain said that was not your way, that you were an honest prince, fair, that I should trust you."

"The bishop spoke truth in that, at least."

"I had long felt confined on Harris. I recognised that I would never be of the stuff of monks and priests. This, this seemed opportunity to get away. I could say to Abbot Drostan that it was a royal command. He had to let me go. And I had heard that the Prince Lulach was, was
...
that he lived apart from your Court. Remote in the Drumalbyn mountains beyond Lochaber. I thought that he would tell me honestly if it was safe to come to you. So..."

"I am glad that I am esteemed honest! Even by Lulach!" the King said. "You will assume your Mortuath of Atholl, then? Take your rightful place as a mormaor of this realm? In allegiance to myself?"

"Yes. If you will have me."

"And your half-brother Malcolm? What will he say to this?"

"I care not. We have never been close. He is
...
not as I am."

"And Lulach? He has brought you here. But how does he see this?" MacBeth had lowered his voice.

"He would have me to do it. He understands my position. We could be friends, I think."

"That would be
...
interesting. Yet you could be a danger to him. One day."

"How so, Highness?"

"When I am gone, he will be King of Scots. You are the lawful son of the last King. You might choose to claim the throne."

"No. I have no such desire. That is Malcolm's wish, not mine."

"Malcolm is a bastard, with no claim to be King. Your father, who doted on him, made him Prince of Strathclyde and heir to his throne. But that does not make him legitimate, or give him any right in the succession. Any such right could only lie with
you.
Whatever your own wishes, some might choose to set you up against Lulach—who is not every man's friend. I should require your sworn word that you would not be so used, and would rather
support
Lulach. Even against your own brother."