Margaret the Queen (40 page)

"We greatly admire and give thanks to God for what Brother Eadwulf in his goodness permits us to attempt, in the cause of Holy Mother Church," Prior Aldwin declared carefully.

"No doubt. But . . . this church or community, which you seek to establish here, will be a
Romish
one, I think? Not Columban."

"To be sure, my lord. It could not be other. We are all good adherents of the Holy Father at the Vatican, however unworthy
..."

"It was Romish before, Maldred," Cospatrick pointed out. "The Celtic Church has shown no interest in Melross. And as a daughter-house of Lindisfarne, under Bishop Walchere of Durham, it would have to be." That mention of Bishop Walchere was distinctly emphasised — and set Maldred's mind speculating on a new course. As it was no doubt meant to do.

"Yet this is Scotland," he said. "Where the Church is not Roman."

"It would not be the first such," Turgot put in. "Are not the King and Queen building a great new church at Dunfermline, of our Roman faith?"

There was no answer to that, of course. But though Maldred held his peace, he eyed Cospatrick the more thoughtfully.

Leaving the two serving-brothers to continue with the building efforts, the other pair led the visitors into the restored house, which proved to be a tiny, makeshift sanctuary combined with living-quarters, severely functional but clean and adequate, if much less comfortable than Cospatrick's little establishment under the White Hill of Ersildoune. They did not produce Burgundian wines, either.

It did not take long for that man to make it clear why he had brought his cousin here. "The Lord Maldred is going to Dunfermline in a day or two," he said. "I wish him to be able to inform King Malcolm as to the situation in the North of England now prevailing, so far as you know it. You are both Bishop Walchere's men, and have no reason to love the Normans. You may speak freely. My cousin approves of that Bishop."

The Prior Aldwin needed little encouragement. With his burning eyes, intense expression and pale leanness, Maldred judged him to be of the stuff of martyrs and prophets, no carefully discreet cleric — although Turgot was of a different sort.

"The land simmers in near revolt," he said. "The man Odo — I will not call him bishop, for he disgraces his mitre — is worse hated than even King William. Everywhere his hand is heavy, the folk groaning under his oppressions
..."

"That we know, friend," Cospatrick interrupted. "It is details that we want. The state of Northumbria, Cumbria, Durham, Deira, even Mercia, or what is left of it. Of Hereward the Wake in his fens . . ."

"Hereward is captured. Betrayed. William has taken him to Normandy. What to do with him, only God knows. Or Satan! The Abbot Thurstan was forced to surrender. To Odo. What is become of
him,
none can tell. I fear the worst. The fenland revolt is crushed. But other revolt is stirring. Even amongst the Normans themselves."

"Ha! Which Normans?"

"Roger fitz Osbern, for one, Earl of Hereford. And Ralph Guader, the Breton, Earl of Norfolk. Others less lofty but still powerful. Even some of the Norman bishops . . ." He began to say something else, but thought better of it. "Odo has offended them. Now that King William spends most of his time in France, Odo rules all as viceroy and Chief Justice. Even William's youngest son, Henry, is at odds with his uncle. There will be trouble, nothing more sure."

"Hereford, you say? One of the Norman Marcher earls! This could mean much. If Hereford rebelled, the Welsh would rise again, for sure. Especially as, I am told, the other Marchers, Chester, Shrewsbury, Gloucester, are with William in France. Aye — what, then, of the North?"

"The North seethes. With the Earl Waldeve absent,

Edwin of Mercia dead and Morkar prisoner, the North is leaderless. But it seethes . . ."

They discussed the situation in greater detail, Cospatrick putting shrewd questions, not all of which the churchmen could answer. During the Earl Waldeve's absence with William, his friend Bishop Walchere of Durham was acting his deputy — and since no other major leaders remained, he could be said to be ruling the North. But, to be sure, he was n
o warrior, however capable; and
one Ligulf, a thane descended from the ancient line of the Earls of Bernicia, was acting as his right hand in matters secular and military. Cospatrick knew this Ligulf, in fact could claim distant relationship, and was keen to have relevant information. It was clear, to Maldred at least, that his cousin was not going to be content with any passive role, friar or none.

For his own part, when Cospatrick had got all he could, for the present, out of Prior Aldwin, Maldred sought information from Turgot as to affairs at Dunfermline. The Benedictine was no gossip, but he was at least an enthusiast over Margaret and her activities, obviously no less smitten by the Queen's attractions and excellences than were others — but of course confined his panegyrics to her piety, saindiness and good works generally. The handsome new church to the Holy Trinity was going up apace, he said — although one gathered that if
he
had been the architect instead of the monk, Godwin, sent up by Archbishop Lanfranc, there could have been improvements to the design. The Queen had persuaded the King to endow the new foundation with broad lands and properties, some taken from the forfeited MacBeth family — lands in Fortrenn, that is, for
even Malcolm was not sufficientl
y strong to take lands from the late King's heirs up in Moray and the North, where they still remained powerful. Moreover, of course, now the Queen was much concerned with increasing the power and prestige of the See of St. Andrews, so that it might give a lead to all Scotland in matters religious . . .

"See is a word we do not use in Scotland," Maldred interrupted flady. "We have no sees."

"The see is the diocese of a bishop, my lord."

"I know what the word means, sir. But we have no dioceses or sees in our Church. Our bishoprics are otherwise. Bishops are with us a kind of priest distinct from abbots, as both are from lesser ministers. Equal to them in certain functions, inferior to them only in rule. And
...
I
do not think that we require being given a lead in religion, as you say."

The other pursed his lips. "No doubt you best know the peculiarities of your faith, my lord. But — that is scarcely my concern. I but say that the Queen seeks to enhance the position and status of St. Andrews. Endow and improve it, that it may be in a position to give lead to others. You will not deny that conditions cannot but be improved in matters of religion, in this land? Or in any land?"

"I urge that you watch where you tread, Brother Turgot!" Cospatrick said, grinning. "Recollect that the Lord Maldred's father is Primate of the Columban Church. And so where leads are to be given,
he
falls to be consulted!"

The monk said nothing to that.

"I knew that Her Highness advised Bishop Fothad of St. Andrews to change matters at St. Andrews. I heard her tell him so two years ago. But this you speak of — raising the position of his bishopric, you said? How shall this be done? His is but one of the bishoprics, if the richest, under the Abbey of St. Serf of Loch Leven."

"But the seat of the most eminent of the bishops. Fothad."

"Eminent as Chancellor of the realm and King's Bishop. Not otherwise. What can the Queen do?"

"Endow with lands, moneys. Improve the places of worship. Contrive fine vestments for the St. Andrews clergy, as she is doing for those of Holy Trinity to be, she and her ladies working these with their own fair hands. So, in God's service, may a minster or a bishopric be built up."

"Perhaps so. But all this of raising up and adoration is foreign to our Celtic ways."

"You have your own saints. Many of them. Of which Holy Church has never so much a
s heard! This Serf you speak of
Ternan. Others. You would not deny that Christ's own Mother and His apostles are more worthy of reverence?"

"No. But our saints were missionaries. The Brethren of Columba. The churches named after them they established. We do not adore them — only commemorate their work in our land
..."

Cospatrick yawned openly, bored. "I say, leave the Queen to it. No harm in it. What interests me is where she intends to find the siller for all this endowing and bestowings and building of churches? Malcolm was never one for gathering moneys. Where is it to come from? I do not see our Scots lords dipping deep into their coffers. Which are scarcely full, forby!"

"The Queen is full of projects to increase and multiply treasure," Turgot assured. "And not only in God's service but for the prosperity of this kingdom and people. She is seeking to encourage more trade and manufacture, greater produce of the country. Many distant lands, she says, would purchase Scottish goods — in especial wool and woollen cloths. Hides. Salted fish. Spirits. Skins of deer, wolves, seals, martens. To set up guilds, as in the Low Countries and Hungary. To foster craftsmen. Ports and havens to be improved, enlarged with piers and jetties. Burghs to have rights of tax and custom — of which the Crown gets some part. Other like enterprises
..."

"Lord — once I told Malcolm that he had wed a queen of some commerce!" Cospatrick exclaimed. "It seems that I was right. And does the King swallow all this? Malcolm, who ever lived by and for the sword! Trade, huckstering and chaffering! Salted fish and beeswax! You conceive of Malcolm Big Head setting his hand to this?"

"He is already doing so. Or aiding the Queen to do so. And
...
it is how Holy Church gains much of her revenues." There was reproof in that.

"I stand corrected, Brother! I have much to learn, it seems. But — not today! We must take the road. Maldred has far to ride." He rose. "Blessings on the good work here. I shall see you again
..."

As they rode off, back to Ersildoune, Maldred eyed his companion consideringly. "You
want
a Romish church there, cousin, do you not? This is no chance matter. Why? You care not a snap of the fingers for either Church, I swear. Why, then?"

"For sufficient reason, man — and you much miscall a sinner but newly repented and enrolled in holy orders! I want a Popish church here because a Columban one would be of no least use to me. To sustain my part as friar, I require a parent house to which, if need be, I can seem to belong. And since I am a Romish friar, it must needs be a Romish one . . ."

"You could belong to Ubbanford — as I thought that you did. There is more to it than that."

"There is, yes. Can you not see? You heard — Bishop Walchere is ruling Northumbria and Deira for Waldeve. Waldeve is now part of William's own household, wed to his niece Judith. And with Northampton and Huntingdon, richer, softer, earldoms than his northern ones — and he is a soft man. As I see it, Walchere and his new friend Ligulf — Walchere is a great one for friends! — will continue to control Northumbria, Durham, and probably much of Cumbria, for some time to come. So, for my purposes — which are. also Scotland's purposes — Walchere will be a useful friend for me! Although a different kind of friend!"

."I see that. But. . ."

"So I set up a monastery at Melross in Scotland — or encourage these others to do so. Under Walchere's bishoply rule and authority. Will he not thank me? And trust me? Aldwin is his friend — another of them! Both are therefore in my debt. There can be much coming and going between Melross and Durham — to my much information and comfort! I will have a sure and secret road to the man who rules the North of England. And who thinks well of me. He is no danger to Scotland, Walchere, no warrior like that Odo. Forby, he will not rule there
always.
When the time is ripe — Walchere goes! And
..."

"And Cospatrick, alive again, rules in his stead!"

"You said it, Maldred — I did not! But it behoves a wise man to be prepared for changes, does it not? For our Scots realm's sake, as well as our own."

"Between you, cousin, and Margaret Atheling, I say — God help the Scots realm! And that realm's Church
..."

16

Maldred and Magda
stared about them at the transformed servants' hall of the palace — as they had stared at almost everything, indeed, since they had arrived at Dunfermline after a longer than usual absence. Change was everywhere — and only a churl would have failed to admit that it was almost all for the better. This lesser hall, for instance, was no longer for servants but was a splendid and indeed delightful apartment, well-lit, tapestry-hung, handsomely furnished, actually carpeted with a sort of heavy plaiding, even provided with instruments of music in a little gallery — from which now a young woman was strumming tunefully on a clarsach or harp. It was now the Queen's hall, the servants banished elsewhere; and Margaret, laying down her needlework, rose and came to embrace them both warmly.