I genuflected, crossed myself, and stepped into the quiet of the kirk of Holyrood Abbey. The arched ceiling soared overhead, held up by a score of intricate columns. At the far end, steps up to the elaborately carved rood screen that shielded the sanctuary from sight. I breathed in the rich, sweet scent of incense as I walked into the east bay of the nave to David’s tomb halfway up the aisle.
I laid my hand on the wooden sarcophagus. I would pay for a marble one myself if need be. The Abbot of Holyrood had made the funeral as respectful as possible, but the haste had been unseemly. Only three days after his death! Many had only just received the news when it was already done.
Well, the new king was crowned and had already put his stamp on the kingdom to the cost of many of David’s friends. Even I had my power curtailed when the Earl of Douglas was made Warden of the Middle March as a bribe after he threatened a rebellion, stating that he had a stronger claim to the throne. I wished him well of it because it was more a trial than a blessing. But King Robert had not disputed my claim to all of Joanna’s inheritance, and I suspected I owed that to his knowledge that he could not control Galloway. Or perhaps I owed it to my friendship with John. But even months after David’s death my power was only slightly lessened, and I was still a member of the privy council which was why I had been called to Holyrood Abbey from overseeing the construction at Threave Castle.
After a prayer for the peace of David’s soul, I strode out of the kirk and through the elaborate gardens to the refectory to find many of the members already there. The refectory was a handsome room but simply furnished. The trestle tables had been arranged to form a square in the center and the only decoration was the large and rather bloodily painted crucifix on the wall at the far end, but the large windows let in the bright sunshine.
The Earl of Douglas nodded to me and went back to perusing a document he held in his hand. He was apparently now on good terms with King Robert since he had gotten what he wanted, a promise for his son James to marry the king’s daughter and replacing Thomas Erskine as King’s Justiciar south of the Forth. Erskine was still a member of the Privy Council, but I wondered for how long. I feared that they did not have the power to keep Robert from punishing them for their loyalty to David.
Thomas Fleming, Earl of Wigtown, greeted me the moment I walked in. “Sir Archibald, have you spoken to the king about what we discussed?” He gripped my arm with a thin hand, and his grip was as weak as his hold on his earldom. Wigtown impinged partly on my lands of Galloway, and in that part, I kept the lords in control. The lords in the rest of his earldom simply ignored him.
“I have nae had the chance yet. You may be sure I intend to bring it up in the council.” I removed my arm from his grip. I was more than willing to solve his problems for him, but whether King Robert would be willing, I could not say. Erskine stood by a window talking quietly to Sir William Keith, so I crossed the room to greet them.
“I see you had a safe journey,” Erskine said.
“You as well. And you must forgive me.” I shook my head at the absurdity of my cousin’s claim. “I dinnae think that I congratulated you on your handling of—” I glanced at my cousin from the corner of my eye. “—certain late matters. Yours and Dunbar’s I should say” It had taken his army combined with that of George, Earl of Dunbar, threatening to lay siege to his castle for him to submit before King Robert brought him into his affinity with generous bribes. “That was well done.”
William Keith nodded. “We must not start fighting amongst ourselves. It would be an invitation to the English. They are mostly leaving us alone, and I want to keep it that way.”
“They are too busy with the spectacle of the decrepit King Edward hobbling after Alice Perrers and hiking up her skirt,” George Dunbar quipped and rose from his seat at the table to join us.
“If he isnae careful someone will put her well out of reach of his hobbling,” I said. “Rumor has it that neither the nobles nor his sons are happy with the riches he is raining upon her.”
“It is all very well for you to be glad of peace, though,” Dunbar said. “You have had your fill of raiding the English. If they are too preoccupied watching the old stewed prune and his doxy to fight, now would be a good time for me to have my chance.”
Erskine laughed. “It isnae as though you never saw battle, rattle-pate.” Robert Keith, Earl Marischal of Scotland, joined in.
“And they will be back soon enough. The English never give up, not when it comes to claiming lands that belong to someone else.” I moved to the council table and said, “Bishop de Leuchars, I trust you bide well.”
Patrick de Leuchars, Bishop of Brechin and chancellor of the realm, nodded courteously from his chair next to the head of the table. “I fare well for a man of my years, my lord.” Soft wisps of white hair surrounded his reddish-rose-colored skullcap above a dignified, high-nosed face. His purple cassock and cape were gleaming silk and a gold pectoral cross studded with amethyst and sapphires was suspended on a gold chain on his breast. “I hope the king will arrive soon.” He laced his fingers together atop his rounded belly. “Nobles tend to become disorderly if they are kept waiting too long.”
I had to keep from smiling as I wondered how to respond to that, but I was saved from having to answer when the door was opened.
King Robert stood in the doorway for a moment. His three oldest sons, John, Earl of Carrick, the king's heir; Robert, Earl of Fife and Menteith; and Alexander, Earl of Buchan, ranged behind him. The new king was in his mid-fifties, and only vestiges of his once handsome looks remained. His forehead was creased with lines, and deep wrinkles spread from the corners of his eyes. He frowned making the lines even deeper, giving his face the appearance of a dried apple. It was framed by thinning gray hair that had crawled back from his forehead and left a sharp widow’s peak. He gazed around the room with red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes as we all bowed, even the bishop rising to make his obeisance.
The king… It was hard to think of Robert Stewart as king after these many years. John was now Lord High Stewart, the earldom of Strathern going to one of Robert’s younger sons. The king took his place in the high-back chair at the top of the table next to the bishop, his sons taking seats near him. He motioned for us to take our seats.
“As some of you ken, I have received an embassy from King Charles of France offering to discuss renewing our mutual defense treaty. My predecessor was nae interested in a renewal. There was a time when I would nae have considered it either, but King Edward is nae longer capable of leading in war, and Charles has done a great deal to recover France’s might. So, on this matter, I want the advice of my privy council.”
Douglas leaned forward, forearms on the table. “We have a truce with England. Would a renewal end the truce? Allowing us to recover the castles they still hold?”
King Robert looked at the chancellor but said, “I believe the English would view it so.”
“Aye.” The bishop nodded. “I am sure his grace is correct. Neither we nor the English would be bound by the truce.”
For once, my cousin and I were in agreement. If we had the backing of the French, we might well be in a position to take back Lochmaben Castle and Roxburgh Castle. “It seems to me that if we are going to raise the ire of the English, it is when they are at their weakest and France at its strongest.” I looked around at the faces of the men at the table. Robert Keith raised his eyebrows in surprise, and Douglas looked at me with approval. David had refused to renew the alliance, blaming the French for the pressure they had put on him to invade, which led to his capture. But David was gone, and if ever there was a time to renew it, this was it. “King Edward will never lead another campaign. Prince Edward is said to be deathly ill and to live long. John of Gaunt is a decent enough fighter but more interested in lands and power at home than fighting to gain another kingdom.”
Robert Keith rubbed the back of his neck, frowning. As Earl Marischal of Scotland, much of the responsibilities of war fell on him. “The payment six months ago of sums still owing on the late king’s ransom means that we dinnae have the money in the exchequer to fund raising a large army. My lords of Douglas, of Dunbar, and of Galloway, before the truce, funded their own raids and attacks to retake castles. We will need funds from the French if they expect us to fight for them.”
“And I wouldnae approve an invasion deep into England, as my late predecessor so disastrously did. Any raids or invasions must be limited to the English march or near it.”
Alexander of Buchan crossed his arms across his heavy chest and pursed his lips. “I have nae interest in fighting the Sassenach. My lands are in the north, and I have enough fighting there with my neighbors to keep me busy for a lifetime.”
John rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “None of us thought you cared about south of the Firth, Alex, but many of my lands are there. And I want the English out of Scotland. So go home and lead your caterans on some raids if it suits you. We dinnae need your aid.”
“I agree with Alex,” Fife said, a tall, slender man with a severe face. “You only just gave Menteith to me, and I need to make sure it is secure. It is far from the English, and they are nae business of mine.”
“Afraid of a real war?” John demanded.
“That is enough,” King Robert said. “John is right though he had nae business speaking so to you. The two of you take care of your lands in the north and leave dealing with the English to your brother.” He spread his gaze over those of us at the table. “I believe it is time to see what the French have to say. Is my council in agreement?”
We gave him our agreement, although Erskine and Keith were decidedly reluctant. Still, it satisfied the king, who looked at me and said, “Sir Archibald, I am naming you to negotiate with the French king. The bishop will issue you funds for the embassy along with Bishop Wardlaw. You ken what we need, so I expect you to return with it.”
“Your grace,” Thomas Fleming said, “as the Lord of Galloway will be leaving shortly for France, I would like to raise a matter that concerns him.”
King Robert told him to continue, although Alexander Stewart was tapping his fingers impatiently on the tabletop.
“I have realized that I have neither the ability nor the desire to bring under control the unmanageable subjects in my earldom of Wigtown. The Gallovidians are a stubborn and rebellious people. I raised the matter with Sir Archibald, offering the earldom for sale. He has agreed that if you permit it, he will buy it for five hundred pounds.”
The king looked surprised. “What say you to this?” he asked me.
“Obviously, my duty for an embassy to France must come first. I would nae want to take it on whilst out of the kingdom, but when I return, if it is agreeable to your grace, I will buy the earldom.” The earldom of Wigtown was a lesser one with little territory, but having a title equal to his would put my cousin, the Earl of Douglas, in a temper, and I fear that usually amused me.