Margaret the Queen (13 page)

The Earl shrugged. "Who knows? If he does, he does not let it trouble him. But — he is ready to muster at short notice."

"When it might be too late
..."

The following day, of strong frost — February being the hardest month of the Scots winter — the monarch led his guests to a bonspiel or ice-carnival at Loch Leven, where Maldred had taken the young women to see the birds in November. The loch, being shallow but extensive, was famous for freezing over, and folk flooded to it from far and near. It was a dozen miles from Dunfermline, so that an early start had to be made. Indeed it was barely light when they set out, and to brighten things up in that biting cold, servitors rode with blazing torches in a long double line, very romantic-seeming. Maldred could not remember the King having done anything of this sort before.

The sun had risen over the Lomond Hills to the east by the time they reached their destination, and the loch was a glittering, gleaming expanse which hurt the eyes, morning smokes rising blue against the white from the islands, on one of which was the cashel of St. Serf, an offshoot from Culross, and on another a small Pictish fort, now used as a fishing-station.

Fairly constant movement was necessary for the distinguished company to keep warm, but there was no lack of activities — skating, individually, in formation and in races, curling, a form of ice skittles, sledging, with contests, man-drawn and horse-drawn, fishing for the large loch-trout through holes in the ice. This last was scarcely a warmth-inducing pastime but it could be combined with the bonfires lit on the ice, it being suggested that the heat attracted the fish. This lighting of fires on ice was contrived by insulating the surface with a thick mattress of green yew branches on which were spread layers of fresh, untanned deer-skins, hide-up, the firewood being lit on these and the ice not melting appreciably. There was the music of fiddles and pipes, for dancing, even.

So the sport and vigorous merriment proceeded merrily, the monks joining in, a cheerful lot, indeed leading in much of it, for of course they had more practice than the others. Madach and Maldred were glad to find Kerald there, along with others from the main St. Serf's abbey at Culross, and the three brothers made a formidable team, happily incorporating Magda into their group. They would have included Margaret, but she was pre-empted, the King proving quite expert at getting her to himself, especially in the sledging, with most of the sledges only holding two people. No doubt this had not escaped his anticipation in organising the affair.

Maldred's preoccupation with this situation was somewhat ameliorated by a growing awareness of his brothers' interest and admiration in Magdalen, which he began to feel was in danger of becoming excessive, and due to be countered. He tried to involve them with Christina, but with scant reaction on either side.

Madach did manage to detach Magda and swept her off on a sledge-run round the islands, allowing Kerald to have a private word with his older brother.

"The Abbot told me a strange matter," he confided. "At Culross. He said that the King sent for him. Soon after we were gone to Atholl. Asking him privily if there were relationships where the Church said that men and women should not marry? Cousins, in any degree. The Abbot told him not so, not in the Celtic Church. He said that the Romish Church frowned upon cousinship in marriage, but not the followers of Columba. The King said that he knew about the Roman Church and that he had spoken with a Romish priest — it would be that Oswald, with the Athelings — who had told him that marriage between cousins was no true marriage and could be annulled. He asked if this was not possible in our own Church."

"So-o-o! Ingebiorg was his cousin, as she was ours."

"Yes. The Abbot said no. That a marriage of cousins celebrated in the Columban Church — as was Malcolm's — was true marriage, perfectly lawful, and could not be annulled or set aside."

The brothers stared at each other.

"So — your Abbot may unwittingly have written the Queen's death-warrant," Maldred got out, after a moment. "It
...
it need not mean that." "No. But. . ."

"There is no cousinship with this Margaret?"

"None. They are not related. How could they be?"

After that, Maldred found himself actually avoiding any close contact with the King instead of seeking an interview, private or otherwise. Which he realised was foolish, for there was nothing that he could do about it, no means whereby he could alter the situation — even if he had call to, or if it was any responsibility of his. However, he did have opportunity to speak with Margaret herself thereafter, although not alone of course. At the repast on the ice, as the short day faded, with hot soup for all, oxen roasted whole on the bonfires, and folk stamping their feet as they ate, the King had to present prizes for the various competitions, races and contests — which took some little time. Margaret stood well back, while this was going on — and Maldred and Magda moved forward.

"You have won no prizes, Maldred?" the princess asked, lightly. "I thought that I saw you doing well? But perhaps you have been too busy esquiring this young woman of mine?"

"I would not have thought that
you
would have noticed!" Magda returned quickly.

Maldred coughed. "We have had a good day, yes. My brother Madach, as eldest, will go for the prizes. And you, Princess?"

"I also have been well esquired."

"Yes. To be sure." He considered his steaming rib of beef. "It is all good cheer, much merriment. But scarcely right, I think. Suitable. When we should still be mourning the Queen."

"I agree with you," Margaret said simply.

"Yet
all
this
is,
is. . ."

"Done for my entertainment? I know it, Maldred. Or for my family's. The King is kind. I do not desire it. But I cannot refuse to partake of what he offers. We are his guests, dependent upon him wholly."

"He may offer more!"

"He has much to offer, yes. Not only for myself." "That could be dear bought." She nodded.

"You so God-fearing. Could this be God's will?" "It could be. God could be pointing me my duty." "Duty! In this?"

"Why not? Christian duties are not always for our enjoyment. There could be much here that even such as I could do to further Christ's cause."

"I say that it is not right. He is a violent man."

"Was not the Blessed Peter?"

"It was not a woman who tamed Peter!"

"No. Perhaps that was presumptuous. But — I might do lesser things."

"The Queen tried — and failed!"

She looked at him sea
rchingly. "You were fond of the
Queen, Maldred? I did not gain her friendship, I fear. She was a woman of some strength, able. And comely. Why did she fail?"

"She failed nothing, as Queen. Only in this of changing the King, of taming his violence."

"You speak so of your prince and kinsman?" she said, troubled.

"Not to all. But to you, it is different. I know him. Have served him since a boy. He has good in him, too. He is valiant, can be generous. Is not proud as some great ones are proud. But he has a, a savagery. Like a lion untamed. I tell you
..."

The King was turning from his prize-giving and coming back. Maldred swallowed his words.

"God be thanked that is done with!" Malcolm declared. "Ha, Maldred — I see little of you these days."

The young man gulped. "You seldom seem to need me. I am ever at Your Highness's service — if required."

"Aye, you are, boy, you are indeed! As are all. I do not forget it, never fear!" He turned to Margaret. "You are not cold? The sun has gone. Time that we were on our way. We shall have the torches again
..."

6

It was only
a few days later that the King sent for Maldred. The young man found him for once free of Athelings, closeted with Gillibride of Angus and Hugh O'Beolain, drinking deeply of ale.

"Aye, cousin," he greeted, "my standard-bearer and esquire — who does little of standard-bearing and prefers to esquire ladies,
I
swear! How old are you now, Maldred mac Melmore?"

"
I
will be nineteen years next month, Highness."

"So advanced! Old enough to use your wits, then. And old enough to be a knight,
I
think, and done with this esquiring. How say you?"

Maldred, surprised, took his time to answer that. Knighthood he had wanted, coveted, for long, the accolade of manhood as well as of chivalry and leadership, a status longed for by all young men of noble houses. But he was suspicious as to why Malcolm should offer this privilege at this juncture, when they were scarcely on the best of terms. Also, he had certain finicking doubts as to the rectitude of accepting the honour at the hands of one whom he suspected of wife-murder.

"It is my hope to win knighthood one day, my lord King," he said cautiously.

"Then this is the day, lad — or tomorrow, since you must needs keep your vigil first. Tomorrow, before you
go.’

‘Go?’

"Go, yes. Tomorrow you are to go to Galloway. With Cospatrick. And a small force.
We have heard that the Earls Paul and Erland of Orkney have arrived there. At Kirk Cuthbert's Town. Erland is often there. He calls himself governor of Galloway. But Paul seldom ventures south of the Hebrides. So this is unusual. And he is said to have brought many longships and men. Something is afoot, winter though it is. I want to know what. And to have it stopped, if it is to my hurt."

"But. . . why? Why me? If there is trouble in Galloway, you need an army
..."

"I cannot spare an army for Galloway. Meantime. I have William to consider. Perhaps Olaf of Norway."

"What am I to do, then? With this small force?"

"
With the force, nothing. Or littl
e. That is for Cospatrick. I do not esteem you one of my most experienced soldiers, cousin, knight or none! Whereas Cospatrick is that — whatever else he is! No, you are to keep watch on our kinsman Cospatrick. I do not trust him. You will be my eyes on him."

"But. . ."

"But nothing, boy! He must be watched. He seems to think well of you. You are kin, to both of us. He will accept you, where he would not others. Heed you, in some measure, perhaps. The more if you are knight, it may be. Restrain himself."

"Why send him then, at all? Whom you cannot trust."

"Use your wits — if you have any! Galloway is in Strathciyde. As is Cumbria. Cospatrick has links there, influence. He is Lord of Allerdale, in Cumberland. His brother Waltheof mac Maldred, is in name my governor of Cumbria — little use as he is! I cannot spare an army to go to Galloway. So one must be raised there, or thereabouts. To counter these sons of Thorfinn. If they intend trouble. Cospatrick can do that better than any. And he is a fair soldier. Better, more experienced than Paul or Erland. And I do not
think
he will change sides this time. They hav
e little to offer him. Whereas I
have promised him an earldom here. To make up for Northumbria."

Maldred shook his head. "I cannot but think that another would serve your purposes better, Highness."

"By God's mercy Scotland is not dependent on
your
thinking, boy! Leave that to me."

"Watch Cospatrick over Man," Angus put in. "He might choose to fish in
those
drumly waters, I think."

"Man? What of Man?"

"Sufficient. Godfrey Crovan the Pale-Blooded, is in Man. Fled there. A hard man and a fighter. Son to Harald the Black, of Islay. The other Godfrey, Olafson, King of Dublin and Man, is weak, sickly, some say dying. So Godfrey Pale-Blooded will grasp Man if he can, nothing more sure. For his father is bastard brother of King Godfrey. And being an Islesman, from Islay, he owes allegiance to Orkney. What better way to gain Man than by bringing a Manx force to aid his lords in Galloway — weakening Man thereby; then to return with Orkney support, and take over Man?"

"A mercy — all that? And what of Cospatrick?"

"They are friends, Cospatrick and Godfrey Crovan. Have fought many times on the same field. They were together at Stamford Bridge — when Godfrey was wounded and King Harald Hardradi of Norway slain. If Cospatrick is thinking of changing sides again, he could well do it over Godfrey Crovan and Man."

"And then change again, slay Godfrey and take Man for himself!" Malcolm added sardonically.