"More work to do!" David declared. "Come, before they are warned."
So, leaving the castle, they rode down to the Calchou ford, a little way to the north but east of the cliffs, and splashed across.
They headed quietly thereafter down the haughland towards those gleaming flickering fires.
This time they did not trouble to form wedges, but in line abreast, in three waves, they charged down upon the camp area - where most evidently they were not expected, there seeming to be little communication between the various groupings of the invading force. Again it was something of a massacre, with no defence possible or attempted. Bewildered men, eating, lounging or sleeping, were struck down right and left, or herded like sheep to be slaughtered or driven down into the river to drown; until, sickened, David blew his horn to order a halt it all, and to cease from chasing the many fugitives who fled into the shadowy woodland.
A prisoner was brought to him, wounded, a heavy, bulky man of the better sort, wearing a somewhat stained surcoat decorated with a gold cross on blue, the first seeming leader captured alive so far. David looked down at him thoughtfully.
"That device you wear, sir, I have seen before. Who are you? What do you here? And in whose service?" he demanded.
"I am Oslac of Felkington, my lord. Steward at Norham for my lord Bishop of Durham. Have mercy, lord . . ."
"Ha
-
Durham! Flambard! Dear Lord
-
Flambard! I had not thought of Flambard of Durham. You are here on the Bishop's orders?"
"Yes. I but obey . . ."
"And the others? These other companies? Who sent them?"
"These are from Hexham, lord. And Warkworth. And Redesmouth. And Corbridge. And the Islands. My lord Bishop's lands and manors. Most, that is. Some are from otherwhere ..."
"So-o-o! This is Flambard's work. Why, man - why"
"Who knows, lord? The great ones do not tell such as myself. We were but told to go and pull down this great new castle a-building here ..."
"
My
castle. In Scotland. What has your bishop to do with my Rook's Burgh? That his servants should cross into Scotland, to harry and kill?"
"I know not, my good lord. We but obey . ..."
"Fool —if you think that I
am fool enough to believe that you know so little! You and your friends have tongues in your heads, have you not? Even if Bishop Flambard told you little, you must have talked of this. If you look for any mercy from me, Master Steward, you will tell me . . ."
"
I
can make this clerk's get find his tongue, never fear!" Fergus declared. "Give him to me!"
"No, lord — no!" the man cried. "We talked, yes — but know nothing for certain. Some say that the lord Bishop sees this new castle as threat against his manors at Norham and Cornhill. It is built just across from his lands. Some say that he is wrath that moneys have not been paid to him from lands in the Merse, lands which are his. In Coldingham, is it? Some say that since the Scots are in rebellion against Holy Church, t
hey must be shown their error. I
do not say that, lord . . ."
"Coldingham, eh?" David glanced over at Hugo and Hervey. "That old story! I wonder . . . ?"
They rode back to Rook's Burgh, their prisoners herded along behind. It was now almost as dark as a May night ever is in Scotland, and there was no point in any pursuit for further activities. Anyway, all were tired and hungry. So they settled for the night at Rook's Burgh, where at least there was plenty of stolen beef and meal. David was careful to set out sentries. Also to send a party of about one hundred under Fergus, to see how Cospatrick was faring at the Trows area; but these returned in only a short time, with that earl himself, who announced that the enemy there had melted away. Presumably they had received word of the debacle at Rook's Burgh - some of the fugitives may have reached them. Anyway, they had gone, slipped away into the dusk. Cospatrick had sent a few men after them, to keep track of their whereabouts, before himself coming on here, without having struck a blow.
There was some discussion, over meat, as to what should be done now. A few enthusiasts were for setting out in pursuit of the fleeing invaders, darkness notwithstanding. More advised waiting for the morning light. Some even suggested a retaliatory raid into Northumbria- Norham for instance. But David saw all such as profitless. The Northumbrians would not rally now, and were therefore no further threat. What would it serve to kill and wound a few more? Let them trickle, defeated, back to Flambard, their lesson learned. And it was certainly not for King Henry's Viceroy of Cumbria to go raiding into King Henry's earldom of Northumbria. Even if Ivo de Vesci must have known about this venture and had not stopped it, there were better ways of dealing with the matter than by unlawful counter-invasion. Cospatrick's assertion that such limitations did not apply to him, an earl of Scotland whose lands had been invaded, met with no encouragement.
David sent off
two
of
Colbain's men, who knew the land well, even by night, to try to intercept and turn back the Liddesdale and Annandale forces under de Soulis and de Brus, which presumably should be on the move north-eastwards. Then he might sleep.
In the morning he inspected the castle. A grievous amount of damage had been done, the labours of months nullified. However, there was nothing that could not be restored and made good. More men must be employed, that was all, the work speeded up; even one or two improvements to the original-design incorporated.
They sent the Northumbrian prisoners home, on their own, with their wounded but minus their arms and equipment - and of course, booty; they took leave of Cospatrick, who was at last making for Ersildoune; and leaving the quarrymen and masons, the wood-cu
tters and carpenters, the scaffo
lders and carvers and the crushers of shells for mortar, all working harder than they had ever worked before, the armed cavalcade turned horses' heads westwards to cross the Forest to Shiel Kirk, finery now somewhat jaded, but feeling on the whole satisfied.
As he rode, David had ample time to think about Flambard. And Ivo de Vesci. And Archbishop Thurstan. And Henry Beauclerc indeed. And, for that matter, his brother Alexander. And to wonder.
16
T
he disadvantage of
being viceroy to two monarchs at the same time was demonstrated the following spring, when David received almost simultaneous summons to attend on both kings, for purposes unspecified. These came at an inconvenient moment, too, for Matilda was expecting their second child within a week or so — she saying that since her child-bearing period was unlikely to last for many more years, they should not delay but have what they could while they could.
David did not really require to debate at any length on his decision as to priorities. He would go to see Alexander first and be back in only four or five days, hopefully, before the birth; and go south when that was safely over. So he sent off the English royal courier to tell Henry at London that he would come on in a few days time, after his wife's delivery— since, with no reason stated, it was to be assumed that there was no great urgency in the summons. He did not add that his first duty must be to his own High King and brother.
With Matilda weary but well, and assuring him that all was in order and that she was not in the least concerned over the birth of her fifth child, he left on his journey northwards, by Annandale and Upper Clydesdale, over the North Lanark moors to Strathkelvin, and so across the Kilsyth Hills to the Upper Forth and Stirling, with only Hugo and Hervey as companions, completing the one hundred and fifty mile ride in two very hard days.
He was irritated, almost resentful, there to learn that Alexander was at Invergowrie again, on the Angus border. This time he could not afford to wait, so they set off again at dawn next morning to ride the further fifty miles across Fothrif and Fife and to ferry over wide Tay at Balmerino. They reached the rath of Invergowrie, at the eastern end of its carse, in the early afternoon - only to find that the King was off on a salmon-spearing expedition to the River Isla^ some dozen miles away. Changing horses once more, and in no very kindly frame of mind, they went on northwards.
They found Alexander, at length, stripped to the waist despite a chill easterly wind, splashing about in only comparative shallows of a stretch of the Isla in the Meigle area. He was wielding a three-pronged leister or salmon-spear, while the fish were driven up to him by a party of wading men who spanned the river below and beat the water, shouting and hallooing, for all the world like any boar or game drive in forest. Two personable young females watched and skirled laughter.
When the King perceived his visitors, he waved his spear, but went on with his energetic sport. David and his friends had never before seen this practised. It looked easy enough, although clearly it was not, for Alexander achieved only two spearings in the fifteen or so minutes that they had to watch, despite the large number of tries and plentiful supply of targets. No doubt the refraction effects of the water, as well as the lightning-swift movement of the salmon accounted for the high proportion of failures; also, of course, the unsteady stance of the would-be spearer on the slippery stones of the stream-bed under two or three feet of rushing river — proved when the King suddenly sat down with a great swash, at one miss, to the vast amusement of the ladies and the monarch's uninhibited cursing. Even when a hit was achieved, success was far from cer-. tain, for a powerful fish weighing many pounds could take a lot of holding, could pull a man over if his feet were not well-planted, or could wriggle itself free even though the spear-point were barbed. All these aspects of the business were amply demonstrated before, the beaters drawing close and the supply of salmon tailing off meantime, Alexander tossed his leister ashore beside some half-a-dozen fine if scarred fish, and clambered out, dripping and grinning, his lean, hard body all rippling muscle.
"Good sport, Davie - but difficult, taxing," he cried. "Are you for trying it? We can find you a fresh beat further upstream."
"Thank you - no. Another time perhaps. I have come far in answer to your summons. Far and fast. At some cost. I did not come to catch fish, Alex!"
"Ha! Do I hear some lack of goodwill in your voice, Brother? Some impatience? Towards your liege lord!"
"It may be that you do, Sire! We looked for you at Stirling. I left Matilda awaiting childbirth, at Caer-luel. And would return to her, at the soonest."
"So that is it. I congratulate you! Instead of being sour, man, you should be rejoiced. I would
that
my
wife was presenting me with a child - so long as it
was
mine! These would be glad to do so, I think - but that is scarce the same!" And he gestured towards the young women. "Donna and Echilda. Or, it may be, Echilda and Donna!" The King was struggling wet torso into shirt and doublet.
David bowed stiffly towards the giggling females, clearly no ladies. "I rejoice, yes. But would prefer to be at my wife's side, in this. Had you been at Stirling, as your courier said, we could have been returning to Caer-luel by this."
"Lord, Davie-you fuss like some callow youth! Or as though
you
it was who was to produce the bairn! Your lady will do very well lacking you - better, I swear! Or have you turned midwife, as well as old woman!"
In front of the others, David had to restrain his tongue. "You commanded my presence here for better talk than this, I think, my lord King?" he said.
"To be sure. But - do you wish to discuss the business of the realm here amongst queans and salmons?"
"The sooner I know your royal
wishes, the sooner I may return to my wife's side, Sire."
"Oh, do not be so devilish prickly, man! How should I know of this childbirth? You take all to such damnably serious intent!"
"It is no doubt thanks to my serious intent that you have asked me to come, Alex? You want something that I can do for you, I think? Else I never hear from you!"
"M'mm." His brother frowned. "You are heir to this realm, man — and so must bear your share of the burdens. Be thankful that I do not ca
ll on you more often. But, yes - I
have a task for you, Davie. I desire you to go to Ralph of Canterb
ury, for me. I cannot leave Scotl
and, to go myself. You will mind that I asked that he find me a new Bishop of St. Andrews. He has never done so, but has put off. . ."
"I did not know of this. I know that you sought a new bishop to replace Turgot. And I worked to get John consecrated Bishop of Glasgow, so that he in turn might consecrate a bishop for you. If you have never appointed a new man for him to consecrate, then the fault is yours, surely?
You were sufficientl
y concerned, at the time. I went to much trouble . . ."