The Forest Laird(158)
Will nodded. “Aye, that is much like what I had already decided to do. Have you any other tidings?”
Lamberton turned to Wishart, and the older man spoke up quickly. “Of course, as you might imagine, we have been taking advantage of our foreknowledge of Edward’s preparations and making arrangements of our own to counteract his threats.”
“We being the maggots, you mean.”
“Of course. Who else should I mean? This new community of ours may speak with one unanimous voice, but it cannot yet fight with one unanimous incentive. The armies must still be raised by the earls who control them, and commanded by the barons whose responsibility such things have ever been. But I am happy to be able to tell you, Will, that matters have improved in that respect since last we spoke. The commanders of the realm stand united today, and they are confident, as am I, that we, under the banner of King John and with the blessing of God, will acquit ourselves more than honourably in the fight ahead.”
Will blew a puff of air from his cheeks, dismissing the opinions of the magnates. “That is all very fine, my lord, but can we win? Acquitting ourselves well and losing in spite of that has no appeal for me. And I know it will not appeal to any of the men who have to march through rain and mud, carrying spears and pikes. Besides, the English share our God with us, and they will swear, to a man, that He is on their side. What about the Bruces?”
The Bishop blinked. “What about them?”
“Annandale and Carrick are two of the most powerful men in Scotland. Where do they stand on all of this? For I tell you frankly, if Bruce is not with us in this war, then it were best to sue for Edward’s peace this minute. Where do they stand? More simply, where is the young pup Carrick?”
“The Earl of Carrick …” The Bishop cleared his throat, looking away into a corner. “I do not know his exact location.”
“Nor do I, my lord, but I would be willing to wager that you would find him in King Edward’s court, for that is more home to him than is Scotland. The earl, whose title makes him one of this realm’s most illustrious peers, is a popinjay, a spoiled brat who enjoys draping himself in outlandish clothes and disporting himself with other men’s wives, playing at being a man himself while spending his sponsor’s money like a fool. There’s precious little of the Scot in him, from what I hear. He is young—what, twenty, one and twenty? And I have been told he is engaging, pleasant, and amiable when he wishes so to be, but he is also completely irresponsible. Edward dotes on him as though he were a favourite son and spoils him ruinously. He gives him leave to abuse anything and anyone he wishes to. And when he tires of indulging the young earl’s rebelliousness, he summons him back into the fold with a click of his fingers. You mark my words, my lord. Bruce is an ill name to employ in demonstrating solidarity, or anything purely Scottish and admirable, on the part of the magnates.”
The Bishop opened his mouth to speak, but Will ignored him.
“The Houses of Bruce and Comyn have been at daggers drawn for long years now, and the Bruces, God knows, are no great supporters of King John Balliol. They see in him, right or wrong, an upstart and a weakling, thrust into kingship by England and held in place only by the power and support of the Comyns. And the young earl is not the only one we need to be concerned about. His father is another matter altogether. The Lord of Annandale is currently castellan of Carlisle, is he not?”
When the Bishop nodded, Will grunted. “Very well, then. Let us consider the unthinkable. Now that the two realms are at war, one of our first moves must be to march against Carlisle, to shut off the English approach to the Solway Firth and neutralize the threat of invasion from that direction. So the question becomes this: which way will Robert Bruce of Annandale declare himself? Will he support his anointed King and open Carlisle to a Scots army? Or will he cleave to his much-acknowledged overlord and benefactor and defend Edward’s Carlisle Castle against his true King’s advance? I have my own opinion on that matter, but yours, my lord Bishop, is the one that matters here. Until you and your advisers can answer that single question, beyond a doubt and without reservation, I suggest you would be foolish to trust the fate of this realm to any assumptions having to do with the name of Bruce. I do not enjoy saying that, for my family have always been Bruce men, and I have no doubt that you are not happy to hear me bring my doubts to your attention, but that is the truth as I see it today.”
Robert Wishart rubbed at his eyes. “I know, my friend, I know. But that, at least, is a matter that will not take long to resolve, for we must put it to the test sooner than later, and by the time we do, we will know how to proceed in either circumstance. In the meantime, I am assured that the earls have matters well in hand. John Comyn, Earl of Buchan, is fortifying Annandale, since Bruce himself is in the English camp for the time being. Lord John de Soulis’s nephew Nicholas commands in Liddesdale, and between the two of them, the south is well cared for. Sir William Douglas holds the castle at Berwick, and Sir James the Stewart has charge of Roxburgh Keep. We are well prepared and in good hands.”