He took a step backward, eyeing his royal guest. “What about you? Is all well?”
“Aye, it is,” Edward answered. “But why should you suspect otherwise?”
“Why? Because I saw you take your chancellor’s dispatch from the hands of his messenger and I know you spent hours walking and thinking about it, fretting over it. Your man Norfolk told me that you left before dawn this morning and when you returned earlier this afternoon you were caked with dust and sweat. A long walk alone in the hot summer sun bespoke grave concern, but I was happy to see you looked well content when you came back.”
“I was and I am. I found a solution and I am happy with it.”
“And am I permitted to ask what it concerned and what you determined?”
The English King grinned. “You are. Burnell directed my attention to a matter beyond my realm and yours, in Sicily. There’s a threat of war looming there, he says—a war that might threaten us in England if left unchecked. That disturbs him, and he is a man not easily disturbed. In consequence it concerned me even more. I have troubles enough of my own without being forced into more at the whim of others overseas whose affairs hold no interest for me.”
“And so a resolution came to you?”
“Aye, with God’s help. I will write to the Pope immediately and offer my services as a mediator, to negotiate a peace that will be acceptable to everyone. It should work. I’m uninvolved in the dispute, and those who are involved all know I have no interest in what’s being fought over. Add to that the consideration that the Pope will be eager, I believe, to throw the full authority of the Church behind me, since he has more to lose in this affair than any of the principals.” He chuckled. “My regal brothers in Christendom are all wise and noble men, and who but a fool would seek to wage a ruinous war when an honourable settlement can be arranged without disgrace?”
Alexander grinned. “Who, indeed? And we all know there are no fools among the Kings in Christendom. I’ll wish you well then, brother.”
It was later that same afternoon when Rob Bruce and his new friend returned to Turnberry after a long day of explorations and adventure. They had taken a boat that morning and rowed northward along the coast to one of Rob’s favourite spots, where a high cliff plunged down to a narrow strip of beach that was reachable only when the tide was ebbing. The entire face of the cliff was riddled with caves, the interior so honeycombed that once inside at beach level, an enterprising boy could make his way up to the very top by climbing from cave to cave without ever going outside. It was dangerous, because the tide below went out and came back quickly, leaving only a narrow space of time for entering and getting out again, and as the returning waves swept back, the lower levels were flooded with lethally swirling water.
They had had almost two full hours in the caves that day because this was the season of what the fishermen called neap tides—the lowest that could occur—and they had beached their boat high and dry a hundred paces from where the cliff began, then made their way along its base to the entrance to the first cave. Rob could not remember ever having spent such a long time in there, and they had explored the caves extensively, though they found nothing of value. Merely being there, in peril from the incoming tide, had been adventure enough to satisfy them both, and they had judged their escape finely, scuttling like crabs along the base of the cliff until they reached the safety of the shelving bank beyond, with spuming breakers threatening to sweep the legs from under them over the last few scrambling yards.
“We’ve got caves on Islay,” Angus Og said in a hushed voice when they were safely at the top of the sandy slope beside the upsweeping cliff. “But we’ve nothing like that. Our caves are just caves, and the biggest you ever get is three linked together. But this place … I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“There is nothing like it,” Rob answered, his voice equally quiet. “Nicol says it’s the kind of stone that makes so many caves possible. It’s soft and hard together, if you can imagine that, and the waves have just scoured out the soft bits and left the hard bits standing. Nicol says someday the whole thing’s just going to collapse, rotted from the inside out. I think I believe him, too. I just hope I’m not in there when it happens!”
Angus Og was wide-eyed imagining it, and soon he began to giggle, flapping his arms as if to knock away the tumbling roofs and walls. His antics quickly had Rob laughing, too, and in moments both boys were rolling around and sobbing hysterically, hugging their sore ribs.