1322 A.D. – The Abbot and Robert the Bruce

Abbot John rode out from underneath the arch at the Abbey’s gate. As he moved slowly up the valley he could see the smoke from the fires that were burning in the town rising slowly above the tree line. The situation was as he feared. You couldn’t trust a word those murderous savages said.

The town had only just started to recover from the raids of six years before. The marauding Scots had ruined the town back then. But most of the people had managed to escape to the woods. The Abbey itself had played its part by hiding a good number. But he feared this time was different.

Comsbrook’s mind returned to the events of two nights before. He had decided to entertain the King of Scots, Robert the Bruce at the Abbey, to try and avoid a repeat of the previous devastation. The King had spent the entire evening in the refectory regaling the assembly with every detail of his murderous march down the coastal area of Westmoreland. The Abbot was sure he was trying to scare the monks gathered round the table. He didn’t need to bother with most of them. They remembered all too well his advance through Furness six years before.

After dinner, Robert had indicated to John that he would like a private word. So he was led into the study at the rear of the Abbot’s house. He sunk into a chair. And regarded the Abbot carefully. His beady eyes were glowering over the thick bushy, unkempt beard.

“May I talk plainly to you Abbot Comsbrook?”

The Abbot confirmed he could. As if he had a choice.

“The war against your English King is expensive. Very expensive”

A strange wicked grin spread across his battle worn face.

“And I see from my visit around your land today that there is much wealth here. You have what, five, six mills, all earning a good sum. And you have the benefit of all the tenant income, from here right up into the hills towards Carlisle. And iron, plenty of iron brought up from your mines.”

John nodded. The wealth of the monks was hardly a secret. At least the wealth that the Scottish King was describing, that was easily observed by all.

“And from some of the Templar refugees I have taken in from England, I hear certain rumours.”

The King’s voice ended with a little question mark. The Abbot’s face revealed nothing. But inside his stomach churned. Surely the barbarian northern King could know nothing of that! But there had been many rumours over the years of exiled Templars joining with Bruce’s army. There had even been a tale that they had played a pivotal role in the famous victory at Bannockburn. John put the thought to the back of his mind. He took a deep breath and began to negotiate what was required for the marauding Scots to pass him by.

His memories of his discussion with Bruce were disturbed by a snort from his horse. The mounted monk came to the end of the path and Comsbrook could now see the true scale of devastation that had been wrought. The Abbot had paid a ransom, and Bruce had given his word to spare the Abbey and the town. But his word had not been kept. Not where the town was concerned. One glance over the wreck of Dalton told the Abbot that.

There was hardly a living soul left. A few ragged men were picking through the ruins of their burnt cottages. They must have managed to escape the Scots and hide somewhere in the forests. The Abbot had not gathered in the women and children, as he had believed Bruce’s reassurances.

He could see now what a heavy price had been paid. The women had been taken off into slavery along with their offspring. And the monk could only imagine the atrocities to which they had been subjected. A shudder rippled unbidden down the full length of his body.

He knew he could never trust that monstrous villain again. He remembered some of the questions Bruce had brought up the previous evening. Rumours he must have heard, or extracted more likely from former Templars in Scotland. They were stories of a secret that involved the Abbey. The Abbot was certain the King knew no details. Bruce would never have left if he’d known the truth. Nevertheless he determined some additional security measures were in order. The Church would require no less from him.