“Christ God! Get back and sound the alarm, man! Turn out the guard! And send someone to the kitchens to find Allie and have her light cooking fires. Damnation, man, away with you! Run!” He turned to his brothers, both of whom stood open mouthed. “You two, away with you and change your clothes, quick as you can. And tell Tom and Alec to be ready.” He glanced down at himself, then started stripping off his bulky coverings. “Ah well,” he muttered, “even a King must expect surprises if he calls on people unannounced, but can we feed half a royal army?”
The next half-hour went by in a turmoil of last-moment preparations, and the royal escort, rank after rank after rank of them, rode up and deployed themselves in the field beyond the road, facing the gates of Writtle House. Bruce estimated their number at somewhere close to a hundred and fifty men, with more solid blocks, perhaps as many men again, still approaching in the distance. As he was watching, a group of riders in brightly coloured surcoats and carrying lances with bright pennants turned and surged towards the gates, and among them Bruce saw the golden glint of the coronet surmounting Edward’s helmet. He strode forward quickly and waited as the royal party approached, and Edward’s voice boomed out even before they came to a halt.
“My lord of Carrick, be at peace. We have not come to beggar you or ruin your fields or eat all your provisions.”
Bruce dropped to one knee, his head lowered, so that he heard rather than saw the courser’s hooves approach and stop and its rider swing himself down from the saddle like a man thirty years his junior.
“Up, man, and greet me as a friend! Since when has Bruce had to kneel in the dirt for me?”
He rose, reflecting cynically to himself that all men sooner or later knelt in the dirt before Edward Plantagenet, and found himself face to face with England’s King, who stared at him with narrowed, appraising eyes, a frown bisecting his brows. Then Edward reached out and grasped him by the shoulders, pulling him into an embrace.
“I’m on my way to Colchester,” he said quietly, hugging Bruce to his chest. “I’ve been in the north and in Wales and returned to Westminster four days ago. And only then did I hear the word of your loss, my friend. Three months and more too late. You must have thought me cruel indeed to send no word of comfort or condolence.”
He pushed himself back, but kept his hands on Bruce’s shoulders as he continued in the same, quiet voice. “We will not stay to tax your hospitality, but I could not pass by without stopping to spend an hour with you privily. Will you invite me into your house?”
“Most certainly, my liege.”
“No, not your liege today, Robert. I am here as your friend, albeit belatedly.”
He swung to face the tall, helmeted knight closest to him. The man was a stranger and Bruce had never seen his livery before.
“I shall remain here with my friend of Carrick for an hour or so, Despencer. We have much to talk about. Take you the others and wait for me by the crossroads.” He raised a hand quickly to stop another knight before he could dismount. “No, Brough, I need no guarding here in the house of Robert Bruce of Carrick. Go with the others. I will join you when I am ready.”
Bruce saw the armoured knights exchanging glances and almost smiled because he could sense their confusion, faced with an unprecedented situation. The King went nowhere unaccompanied, ever. None dared challenge Edward, though, which went without saying. There was but one man in all England who would defy the royal wishes at a time like this.
“My lord of Norfolk is not with you, sire?”
Edward raised one eyebrow and stared at him. “No, he is not. What made you ask?”
Now Bruce did smile slightly, for he knew Edward understood precisely what had made him ask. He shrugged one shoulder. “I was remembering the time you came to Carrick, to Turnberry. That was long ago, but my lord of Norfolk would not have left you alone then and I doubt he would now, were he here. I trust he is well?”
“Oh, he’s well enough. Hale and hearty and as stubborn as ever. But now he threatens to leave me alone indeed. Let us go inside. Who are these young men?”
Bruce had forgotten that his four brothers stood behind him and now he turned to see them all gazing raptly at the King of whom they had heard so much throughout their lives. “My brothers, sire,” he said. “May I present them to Your Majesty?”
Edward greeted them graciously, speaking to each of them in turn and putting them at ease before dismissing them easily. Then he took Bruce by the arm and steered him towards the house. “The eldest one,” he said, when the boys were out of earshot. “He’s almost as big as you. Is he still a squire?”