Eight years ago, when the news came that King Edward of England was dead, it should have been celebrated with the ringing of church bells, although the priests forbade it. Especially since it had come hard on the heels of news that his blood-thirsty son, Prince Edward, had died of a wasting illness. I had had new wine shipped from Leith and held a feast. That left a ten-year-old child as King of England. Our cooks had outdone themselves with a dozen dishes for each of the three courses. James and Agnes had arrived to celebrate with us and brought Willie with them.
Willie… I had outstretched my arms, and we hugged, pounding each other’s back in glee. He now looked me eye to eye, only seventeen. He might even top my height when he had his full growth. I grasped his shoulders to hold him back and examine him. “You will soon be a knight. God have mercy, look at you!”
His brothers and sisters gathered around him. Then, they were off to look at the horses and dogs, exchanging stories of unreasonable fathers and lords. My heart had felt too big for my chest as I told James that I would knight Willie as soon as he fought his first battle.
So, though it was not a formal truce or declaration of peace, having a child as their king made me confident there would be no outbreak of hostilities any time soon. It seemed wise even to delay our attacks on the largest castles they still held, Roxburgh, Berwick and Lochmaben. We could rebuild all that was still torn and be ready to fight when the right time came.
When outright revolt had broken out in England three years later, that was even better news, though the slaughter of the Archbishop of Canterbury seemed excessive. John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster and the young English king’s uncle, fled to Scotland and was given shelter at Holyrood Abbey. I had to laugh at the irony. Nonetheless, I traveled there and greeted him most civilly, even gifting him with a Scottish-style claymore that seemed to please him. There is no doubt that had the rebels laid hands on him, he would have met the archbishop’s fate. But never trust the English, however much they profess undying friendship as he did.
How the young King Richard felt about being abandoned by his uncle, I never heard, but he gathered his support and put down the rebellion. Still proclaiming his friendship for us, John of Gaunt returned home.
When news reached me that my cousin, William, Earl of Douglas, died just after Easter, I realized that I was truly growing old. At his funeral mass, I watched his only legitimate son, James, twenty-five and a hothead if ever there was one, wondering what sort of earl he would prove to be. However, I took moves to try to ensure that the hothead did not drag us immediately into a war, sending word to Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland. The two of us agree upon a truce, encompassing the troublemaking new Earl of Douglas and the equally troublemaking Lord Neville and his son Henry who they called Hotspur. After a bit of back and forth, a truce was signed.
Complicating relations for everyone, when Pope Gregory VI died, cardinals in Rome chose one pope and French cardinals in Avignon chose another. Each claimed to be the true pope, and every kingdom had to decide which pope to recognize. The Papal Schism people were calling it, and of course, English bishops chose one pope, the one put forward by Rome, whilst Scots bishops chose the French. With so much of the diplomacy done by bishops, many negotiations and alliances trembled on a knife’s edge.
Yet relative still peace prevailed on our border, but I knew it would not last after Wardlaw, now elevated to Cardinal, returned from France saying the French were at last eager to invade England. Jean de Vienne appeared with the entire French fleet of a hundred ships off Leith one day in June. King Robert was peremptorily summoned from the Highlands by his eldest son to receive de Vienne at Edinburgh Castle. At once, messengers thundered across the country. I read the summons with a sigh. De Vienne had arrived with forty thousand livres tournais. If I knew the Stewarts and my own kindred, they would be eager to receive a good part of this vast sum.
King David’s Tower, at last completed, rose like a massive spire above the walls of Edinburgh Castle and could be seen for miles. In the bailey, James of Dalkeith, Willie at his heels as his squire, grasped my hand and quickly filled me in on the arrival of the French admiral since it had all happened whilst I was at Threave still overseeing the last details of its completion. From the corner of my eye, I watched my son, a young man, fully grown. He had my great height, black hair, and dark visage, but he had his mother’s beautiful face. I had truly loved her and mourned her loss, but she still lived on in our handsome son.
Together we walked into the great hall that was crowded and abustle with a goodly company. Liveried guards with halberds stood at each of the three doors. As well as John, Earl of Carrick and now Lieutenant of the Realm, king in all but name, there were his younger brother Robert, Earl of Fife and Menteith; the aged, frail-looking Cardinal Wardlaw and Abbot John Bell of Holyrood Abbey; David Lindsay, Earl of Crawford; Malcolm Drummond of Cargill; James, the new Earl of Douglas; George, Earl of Dunbar and March, and his brother John, Earl of Moray along with a good two score of barons such as James of Dalkeith and me. In the center of the room and the focus of everyone’s eyes was Sir Jean de Vienne, Admiral of France, still broad-shouldered and sun-browned, though his hair had gone gray at the temples.
The main doors were thrown open. Trumpeters entered, blared a flourish, and stood aside. King Robert shuffled into the hall. Thin and crepe-skinned, his hair and beard had gone white and scraggly. His eyelids were swollen, and his eyes were red and tearing. He spent so much time in the Highlands that I had not seen him in a year since we had put the reins of the kingdom into John’s hands. However much I did not love the man, I was pained to see the state of him, and he the King of Scots. He proceeded to the dais, gingerly up the steps up to the throne, and sat down.
A herald announced Sir Jean, who strode to drop to a knee at the foot of the dais. In French which Robert spoke well, he addressed the king. “Your Grace, I am pleased to tell you that I have two hundred knights aboard my ships, ready to aid you in attacking our mutual enemies in England. As well as the promised gold livres tournais, I bring a hundred suits of armor for your own knights made by the finest of our craftsmen.”
I was reminded rather too forcefully of a similar amount of gold that had been paid by the French before our attack on the burgh of Berwick-upon-Tweed. That had led directly to the horrors of the Burnt Candlemas when King Edward put all of Scotland below the Firth of Forth to the torch. Moreover, my own honor was at stake.
“Your grace, may I speak,” I said, switching to French as I doubted that de Vienne spoke a word of Scots. “As the Lord of Carrick is aware as he consented to it, as Warden of the Western March, I am honor bound to a truce with the Earl of Northumberland for the remainder of this month.” I tilted my head toward the glowering Earl of Douglas. “As is my lord of Douglas as I signed as Warden.” There were some puzzled looks and murmured consultations. Although I was sure everyone in the great hall spoke at least some French, a number were not fluent.
De Vienne raised his eyebrows. “Cardinal Wardlow never mentioned this when he was in France to renew the alliance.”
“That is because Northumberland and I negotiated the truce whilst he was out of Scotland. It is merely a short truce and would normally not affect the French at all. The decision of your king to send you to join us in an invasion was—” I shrugged. “—unexpected.”
“But it is only through May,” John of Carrick said. “It will take time to prepare an invasion. We have to gather our own men, some coming a goodly distance. The French knights can be given guest rights whilst we do that.” He turned to George of Dunbar and switched back to Scots. “Dunbar is enormous and certainly can house the French. You would not object, surely. The French gold will more than pay any costs.”
“Of course, although Edinburgh may be more congenial for entertainments, I have ample room and will gladly receive them.”
I looked at my feet and bit the inside of my cheek to prevent my saying anything. It would do no good. The French gold had spoken, and the lion’s share would go to John as Lieutenant of the Realm. Well, I would make sure I got some of it, too, because no good was going to come of this haphazard war planning. There would be a cost sometime in the future, and the French gold would help cover it.
John turned to me with his eyes narrowed. “And you, my Lord of Galloway? Are you with us?”
“I am always at the service of the King of Scots, my lord.” I switched back to French to include de Vienne. “If his grace wills it, I shall bring my spears of Galloway to war against England.”
“Of course, his grace wills it.” Carrick gave his father a stern look. “Do you not?”
Robert opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “As you say, my son. As you say.”
De Vienne’s mouth twisted in annoyance. “If you think delaying will convince my king to make you a larger payment, you are mistaken.”
“This is for the best, my lord,” I said to de Vienne. “You know that raising a large host cannot be done overnight. My men are spread across my lands in Galloway and gathering them would take almost that much time anyway, so there is little loss. We have ample hunting and hawking near Edinburgh to keep you and your knights occupied, and I am sure the Earls of Carrick and Dunbar will plan feasts and entertainment. This way, when we march, it will be with a substantial number to join your own.”
“Well said!” John beamed, now that he was getting what he wanted. “We will meet where the Tiviot meets the Tweed on the first day of June.”
“Aye, though I willnae have time to raise a large host,” Fife said.
“The gold and armor must be delivered before anyone goes anywhere,” King Robert suddenly exclaimed as though he had just remembered he was still king.
“Ah, bien! I will have all delivered tomorrow if I have your word that we will depart for England on that day.”
John offered his hand to de Vienne, still beaming. “You have my solemn vow. By the Holy Mother and all the saints. We will leave to attack England that day.”
I gave John a wry smile. “I will leave for Galloway the morrow after tomorrow then.” If he thought I trusted him to share out the French gold fairly, he was very mistaken. I did not need the French armor, but I suppose Willie would like a suit of it. My Archibald was still too young; besides, as my heir, he would have armor enough. But Willie, I would see provided for.
The next day, the gold was divided up, with the largest amount of seven thousand going to the royal treasury and to the Earl of Douglas, who would raise the largest number of men, and fifty-five thousand to John of Carrick as leader of the army. The rest we divided up between us. The French assumed they could make better armor than we, which was false, but what they brought was as fine as any I had seen, all plate much of it beautifully engraved. Willie’s eyes widened in astonishment when I let him help me choose a set and then gave it to him. Of course, a smith would have to work on it to adjust the fit, but he kept grasping my arm and relating all the fights and tournaments he wanted to have wearing it. It made me wonder if he had doubted that I would provide for him. I ruffled his hair, and that made him dance away laughing. “I am nae lad, my lord!”
So I spent a month mostly in the saddle, although I sent messages to some of my castles, but showing my face encouraged all who owed me knight service to appear. But many men I deliberately left behind, unwilling to leave the lands undefended. Threave I left fully manned, Corbyn in command, Bothwell Castle as well.
Joanna pleaded that I should not go, but the king said to go and a royal command even though made from pressure by his heir, was not to be ignored. My back ached every night as I sat by the fire in one of my castles, reminding me that I was in my fifty-fourth year. It seemed only yesterday I had jousted against five men for the privilege of marrying Joanna. Now, I would do well to survive one. Several days a week, I practiced with my men, though I had to yell to make them come at me hard. So, aye, I could probably survive one.
I rode at the head of two thousand men, for the first time Willie riding beside me, to find the Earl of Douglas waiting with the three thousand. James of Dalkeith led five hundred. The next morning, John of Carrick arrived with Dunbar, Moray, and de Vienne’s men, five thousand strong. An army of ten thousand would not make much of an impression on the English, but the French wanted something for their money, and this was what they would get.
By the time all ten thousand were in some sort of order, it was too late to march. We had never discussed our plans so that night we gathered for a conference in John of Carrick’s pavilion, hastily set up. De Vienne wanted to know how far we were from England.
“Ask the English,” I said, “and Scotland belongs to them, but we are about a two-hour ride from the Tweed. That is the real border. That is where there is a good ford and once we cross, we are in England. It would be one hour for one man, but moving an army is often like pouring out a barrel of cold honey.”
“Indeed, that is always a problem.” De Vienne grimaced.
“But once across, it is only another two hours’ push to Wark Castle,” Douglas said, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. “It is not a great castle, but we do not want it at our backs. Taking it should be no great problem. We should hit it fast before they have time to stock it for a siege.”
There was only one fight between a French knight and a Scot the next morning, an unusually peaceful start when combining such disparate forces. By midmorning, the van reached the ford across the River Tweed. But crossing slowed things, so it was it was late in the day when we reached Wark Castle, bypassing the castle town for the moment.
Word had obviously reached them. The portcullis was down, the drawbridge up, and crossbowmen glared down from the battlements. All the leaders dismounted and gathered to decide how to proceed.
“They could not possibly hold out long. Midsummer, well before harvest, their supplies are probably low,” Douglas said.
De Vienne sneered. “You want to bother with a siege with this place? It is hardly more than a pigsty.”
I laughed. “It is not that bad, my lord. It has been attacked and sacked so often the English hardly bother to repair it.” I turned to Douglas. “But are we sure that they have few supplies? Do we want to sit here in a siege? For Wark?”
Douglas crossed his arms, his lips forming into a hard smile. “What do you suggest, Galloway?”
“Carrick, did we bring rope and board ladders for an esplanade?”
“Nae, but they would not take that long to make.” He looked thoughtfully at the small castle confronting us. “You think we should?”
Lifting my eyes to stare into the heavens, I tapped my fingers on my thigh. “Instead, I think we should offer whoever is garrison commander here a free passage for him and his men, even taking their arms and armor. Start making camp and cutting trees to trim to build ladders and a ram.” I laughed. “With ten thousand men outside his walls, there is no way he could hold off an assault. He will surrender by tomorrow morning. If he refuses, then either we leave enough men for a siege, or we climb the walls. But if we are doing this, let us get on with it.”
“That sounds like a good plan to me,” Dunbar said, nodding.
Fortunately, I was right. The next morning, the commander, a knight by the name of Sir Ralph Ashdown, surrendered. He complained loudly when they were made prisoners, but I gave him my word he and his fifty men, mostly crossbowmen, would be set free the following day. I would not chance their reaching our next target first to give warning of our approach. There were jeers at our prisoners from our men. James of Dalkeith chose fifty of his men to remain to strip Wark of any valuables and fire it on the morrow after releasing the prisoners.
I had Gil pick up the banner of the Earl of Northumberland that had been pulled down.
Douglas stared oddly at me, but John of Carrick laughed, immediately realizing what I intended.