Margaret the Queen (35 page)

"In Normandy, in England, in Wales, in Ireland, I seek out and punish rebels. As Lord Paramount of Scotland, I have come to do the same here."

"Lord Paramount? What is that, sir? I know of no such title. I am
Ard Righ,
High King of Scots. And save God Almighty, there is none higher."

"Then you are ignorant. As any child could tell you. Ask your lady, here. Always the Kings of England have been Lords Paramount of Scotland. You know it. Your own great-grandsire, Malcolm the Second, swore fealty and duty to my predecessor, King Canute of England, forty years ago."

"Not so. Malcolm, of honoured memory, made fealty only for lands he held in England, Canute's England. Another usurper. No more than that. Myself, I would be prepared to do the same. As I would expect
you
to do, sir — if so be it you held any lands in Scotland."

"I can hold all Scotland! You are an obdurate man, wilfully blind. But if you will not accept the assured truth, you must needs accept the hard fact that has brought you here today. I hold your realm in the palm of this my hand. And can do as I will with it."

"As to that, by armed invasion you may presently hold a part of Fortrenn. But this is only a small corner of my kingdom. Near to your ships. You will not find the rest easy to take. Still less to hold."

"You think so? I have forty thousand men into Scotland. I can double that, if need be. How then?"

Even Malcolm Canmore's breath caught at those figures. Never had such numbers of armed men been heard of in Scotland. For the moment he was speechless.

The Count Robert laughed. "Be not so gentle, brother!" he urged. "Teach him the price of rebellion. And the other two, likewise."

"To be sure. Edward Atheling and Cospatrick of Bamburgh. Rebels indeed."

"Can I be rebel? Against myself?" Edgar demanded. "Could
you
be rebel, in Normandy?"

William ignored him. "That Cospatrick! Turncoat as well as rebel. Betrayor!"

"It is a fool, Highness, who does not know how to change, when he has made a mistake!" the Earl said, shrugging.

"You have made over-many mistakes. And changes! That is folly also. Now is the hour of reckoning. For all of you."

Malcolm had recovered his voice. "What do you want?" he asked. "I have come here to negotiate. Let us do so, and be done."

"Negotiate? What have you got to negotiate? You have come here because I summoned you. To hear my terms. Nothing more."

"You think that - i
n your overweening pride! Without a blow struck? You may call yourself Conqueror. But you have not yet conquered Scotland!"

Margaret intervened. "If a mere woman may speak — I say that since you are all men of reason and experience, as well as renown, reason and good sense must prevail. To the best benefit of all. Talk of conquering and blows struck and rebellion will serve only to prolong disagreement. And you have met here to agree something, have you not? Else why meet?"

William actually smiled at that, something that went oddly with his thin lips and traplike mouth. "How wise!" he declared, part-mockingly. "The voice of reason. Let us heed it, indeed — and save much unprofitable talk. I know what I require. And no doubt your husband knows what he has to concede. So let us come to agreement, yes!"

Malcolm's already prominent chin thrust forward. He drew a deep breath. But before he could translate his anger into words, Margaret spoke again.

"Before you commence, my lords, and my weak voice may be lost in greater talking, permit that I say a word, if you will. I pray, my lord William, that you will carry a letter from me to the good father-in-God Lanfranc, Lord Archbishop of Canterbury."

"Lanfranc? You know Lanfranc, lady?"

"By repute only. That he is a noble and learned priest. Whom you are to be congratulated on bringing to the primacy, my lord."

"That is as may be. And this letter?"

"I seek the Archbishop's good offices. With King Malcolm's agreement, I intend to erect a fine stone church at Dunfermline, in the name of the Holy Trinity. As thank-offering for our marriage and the birth of our child. In this land, God-fearing as it is, churches are small, not stone-built, much worship done in the open air. All unworthy as I am, I plan to build a great church, something not seen here ere this, a sanctuary to house the precious relic, the Black Rood, my fragment of the True Cross of Calvary. To God's glory. And I seek the holy Lanfranc's aid and blessing. As head of Holy Church, the Holy
Roman
Church, in these lands."

"Ha!" said William.

"Clever!" muttered Cospatrick, nudging Maldred.

That young man, like most others there, looked uncomprehendingly, perceiving no point in this, clever or otherwise, where the Norman was concerned.

"You will understand, my lord," Margaret went on, "that we require aid. There is no custom and practice of fine building in stone here. Wood, yes — but not stone. You Normans build strong castles and great churches. The abbots and bishops here have no experience of the sort of church we seek to erect, its style or its plenishing. So this letter seeks the good Archbishop's aid, and his benediction on our endeavour." She drew out a folded and sealed paper from her cloak and offered it to the Conqueror.

He took it distinctly doubtfully. "A
...
a noble and worthy project, cousin," he said. "To your credit — yes, to your credit." He turned the letter over, for once that most potent character at something of a loss.

"You see?" Cospatrick whispered. "By that single stroke she has cramped him, given him pause. Sown a seed of question in him. Aye, clever!"

Maldred could only see one more blow struck against his father's Celtic Church.

The Queen spread her hands. "We all seek to be better Christians, do we not? However great our failures."

"H'rr'mm." William cleared his throat and looked at Malcolm, just a little uncomfortable.

The other looked blank, as little assured. Clearly this all was unanticipated on his part.

Count Robert of Mortain snorted. "Enough of this play-acting!" he jerked.

His brother looked at him thoughtfully, then turned back to Margaret. "Yes," he said. "I shall give the letter to Lanfranc. And consider what has been said." He waved a hand. "Now — to business. Here are my terms. If you would have me to leave Scotland. You, Malcolm, swear oath of fealty to me, William. We agree no hostilities between our realms. You harbour no more of my rebels. This Edgar Atheling leaves your borders forthwith. Also this Earl Cospatrick. I had intended that they should become my prisoners, but I will content myself with banishment." This with a glance at the Queen. "Lastly, as token and promise that our agreement will be kept, I require your eldest son as hostage at my Court."

There was more than one sharp intake of breath at that last, including Margaret's and her husband's. No word was spoken for moments on end.

"Well, man — well?" the Norman demanded. "What is it to be?"

"Time," Malcolm got out. "I require time. To consider."

"What will time serve you? There is nothing to consider. Either you accept, or I occupy your kingdom with my forces. And raise up a viceroy to rule it for me. That is all there is to consider. I have modified my demands — for which you have to thank this lady. What need of time?"

"Time I require, nevertheless."

William shrugged. "As you will. A little time I grant you. There is the chapel — it is scarce a church. Go there. Consider — if you must. But. . . my terms are light. And the alternative . . . ?" He left the rest unsaid.

So the Scots filed into the little church of St. Brigit's, Malcolm and Margaret equally silent, tense. Oddly enough it was Cospatrick who led what discussion there was, sounding almost cheerful.

"Look not so black, cousin," he said, in the dim half-light, when the door was shut. "It is none so ill. Better than I had looked for, I swear. For
you.
Myself, it seems that I must needs go wandering again! But — I am a man of itching feet, anyhow. . ."

"None so ill, fool? When I must swear to be that French bastard's man — I, Malcolm!"

"His bastardy is scarce the worst of him — it happens to many!" That was as far as even Cospatrick would go in reminding Malcolm that he too was a bastard. "Just as this swearing of fealty is not the worst of the present matter. After all, it is but words spoken. Under duress. Words are but words — deeds a deal more weighty! Once the Norman is gone back to his own place, the words will mean . . . only what you wish them to mean. You said yourself, before — get William away, and then see how his terms will hold!"

"Fealty, man —
fealty
makes ill swearing."

"There is fealty and fealty, cousin. You have no
lands in England, I think? But I
have. My mother, the Lady Aldgitha of Northumbria, heired lands in England from her mother, the Princess Elgiva, daughter to Ethelred the Unready. Lands in three provinces. Those lands, in name, are mine. I have not set foot on a yard of them since these Normans came. Nor shall I, now. So — I, in my love for you, give them to you, my father's brother's son! Here, before witnesses. Thus, you may make that son of fealty to William, since you must — for those lands in his England. Only that. Although, perhaps you need not say as much, aloud!"

"M'mm." Malcolm peered at him, in the gloom, doubtfully.

"In return, to be sure, I would expect you to keep my earldoms of Dunbar and March reserved for me, during my enforced absence abroad. And have their revenues transmitted to me on my travels. Young cousin Maldred, here, no doubt would serve as my deputy, meantime?"

"You have it all designed!" the King accused. "This you have not just thought of, now, I swear!"

"Agreed. It behoves a man responsible to think on his future. As must you, now. When I heard that Norman William was come, I knew what it would be. But — that is no matter. You must decide, for your realm. Do as I say — or else, seek excuse to get out of William's hands here, now, and once out, flee into the Highlands. And fight the invaders from their fastnesses."

"Aye — that is talking!" the Earl of Angus declared. And there was a murmur of support from other lords.

"That way would lie disaster for all Lowland Scotland," Malcolm declared. "William would treat it as he has treated so much of England. Turn it into a smoking desert
..."

"Yes — oh, yes!" Margaret put in. "Never that. The land destroyed. The innocent paying. Never that. Better as Cospatrick says . . ."

^w
And what of me?" Edgar interrupted. "All
this — but what of me? What am I
to do? Where am I to go?"

Malcolm dismissed his brother-in-law's problems with a flick of the hand. "Go where you were going when that storm drove you into Wearmouth Bay, man. Go to Hungary. Or your kinsman the Emperor. You will be as well there as in Scotland."

"But
..."

"This of the Church," Cospatrick interrupted. "It was well thought of, Highness. Quick wits. It gave William pause. Caused him to think anew. If he believes that he has
you
to aid him. Through the English Church. He will hope to gain the more, at little cost. And so act the more mildly meantime. He requires the Pope's support for what he plans in France. This of Lanfranc was shrewd thinking
..."

"It was
honest
thinking, my lord. I have had this resolve in my mind since the day of my marriage. When we were wed in that small chapel, without, without. . . with most left outside. A great church, to the greater glory of God. I but mentioned it to William that he might be more . . . clement. Lanfranc is his close friend and spiritual guide. I wrote the letter yesterday, not knowing what today would bring. . ."

"That one seeks no spiritual guide!" MacDuff of Fife snorted. "Satan himself guides him."

"Nevertheless, it was sound thinking. And hit its mark," Cospatrick insisted. "And may serve well hereafter, I think."

Malcolm was not interested in talk of churches and clerics. "If I make this fealty. For lands in England, it might serve. What else does he ask? To shelter no more of his rebels. That is easily promised, less easily ensured. No further hostilities between the realms. None so ill, that. If I am strong enough to invade England, I am strong enough to forget such agreement!"

"War is to the benefit of none, moreover," the Queen contended. "This, of all, is the least sore requirement, surely?"

Politely, none actually controverted her.