Games of Otterburn 1388 (3 page)

Robert blew out a long sigh and threw up his hands in desperation then slapping them back on his thighs.

“Ye know… yer as crippled as I am… don’t ye?” said Robert as he put his still booted feet onto the coverlets and laid his head on the straw pillow.

John did not know how to take the king’s say. He was purely baffled.

“Ye have
Douglas
to back
ye
,” continued Robert as he put his hands together appearing to be prayerful and tucked them betwixt his head and the pillow. “Without his political muscle yer brother
would’a
been Guardian.”

“Hain’t true!” protested John forcefully. “
Douglas
is fixed to go with
me
!”

“And at whose behest has all this been planned?
Fife
’s?”

John stirred uncomfortably but did not know how to answer his father to his advantage.

“Ye, my son… are pulled at the tails of two
opposin
’ horses. Take that from the old man who ye figure is already done from this world,” said the king from his prone position on his pallet. “If I were ye I’d keep my brother ahead of me in any battle lest he will be king and not ye… when I am gone to my reward.” Robert cunningly smiled and closed his eyes to illustrate his say.

John was in shock. The old man had gotten him good. He was confused. A part of him knew it to be true but his ego would not let him believe that he was to be done in by his overly ambitious younger brother. And yet, his timidity led him to renewed fear and suspicion.

King Robert pretended to fall asleep and began a feigned snore. John knew he was being dismissed. He got from his chair, went out the door and hobbled across the hall, down the stairs and rejoined his awaiting knights in the bailey without so much as a hospitality cup or supper in the offering.

August 9

The
Forest
of
Jedburgh
,

Scotland

John Stewart drew rein as he saw his scout coming back through the trees of the
Jedburgh
Forest
toward him. His knights and following men-at-arms halted in queue. A few of his men took advantage of the stop, got from their mounts to stand on the ground, rest their weary crotches and relieve their tortured bladders.

The scout came to the earl and pulled rein. “I know where
Douglas
and
Fife
are
a’waitin
’ for
ye
… Milord,” he excitedly said as he gasped between harsh breaths.

“Ease
ye
and yer horse, lad,” said the earl. “How far ye reckon?”

“‘
Tain’t
far,” said the scout. “Ye could holler at ‘
em
if ye were a wee bit closer.”

“After a hundred or more miles ‘‘
tain’t
far’ sure sounds close to me,” opined the earl with a broad smile.

Earl John kicked his horse to move ahead. “Come on,
laddie
. Show me the way.”

The knights bumbled back to a tight queue within moments following Carrick.

The proud scout wheeled his little horse and kicked it to guide Lord John through the forest to the bivouacking army commanded primarily by his brother, Robert, the Earl of Fife.

Mustering near the
kirk
of Southdean along the valley of the upper Jed Water about four miles from the northern border of
England
were the Scots preparing for raiding. Including Carrick’s small contribution of men the count was close to ninety-five hundred including knights, men-at-arms, archers, ordinary servants, and horse lads.

There was a meager gathering of village folk who lived in the vicinity of the small
kirk
that were intrigued by the sudden excitement that had befallen them. They stood on the rim and watched.

Within the midst of the village was a hunting lodge of stone and rough hewn log construction then owned by an old knight who castled elsewhere in Lothian at that time and rarely mustered a sufficient ambition for the
hunt.

Earl Carrick awkwardly got from his horse being with a bad leg that was additionally stiffened from the three days of travel from Carrick.

Through the trees the knight Alexander Ramsay saw him alight.

“The Guardian has arrived, Milord,” said Ramsay coming to James Douglas, the Earl of Douglas and of Mar. Thirty-one year old James was tall and muscular and a foreboding knight on any field of battle. He was grand nephew of the famous knight James ‘the Black’
Douglas
associated with King Robert the Bruce.

“How many did he bring?” asked
Douglas
.

“Three hundred… four maybe, I reckon, Milord,” answered Ramsay. “I
nae
counted.”

Douglas
huffed but was quick to cool at the disappointing numbers.

“Got a bad gimp, too,” said Ramsay leaning toward the earl so his quiet voice would not carry beyond the man’s ear.

“Gimp?”

“Heard he was kicked by a horse,” said Ramsay.

“
Nae
need to whisper that,” said
Douglas
, “Soon be that the whole camp will know.”

“Sooth,” remarked Ramsay as a last word on the subject.

“Guide him here… See that he and his men have all they need… that we can provide… of course.”

“Aye, Milord,” replied the knight and turned to fetch Carrick to the hunting lodge and settle his travel weary troops.

Ramsay made his way through the green trees to where John Stewart was standing wondering if any had noted his arrival.

“Well come, Milord Guardian,” greeted Ramsay with an abbreviated bow,”

“Lord Ramsay,” said John. “Ye know where
Fife
is?”

 
“
Ye’re
to stay in the lodge amongst those trees yon, Milord,” he instructed with a point of his gloved hand. “I believe yer brother is there now.”

“I understand,” said the earl. He took his horse by the reins and handed them to his squire and added, “Follow me.”

When John got to the multiple room
lodge
and entered he overheard his brother
Fife
in a heated argument with James Douglas.

“Yer notion of a raid on West March is a fool’s errand!”
Douglas
was saying.

“And
yer’s
is but a vainglorious misadventure,” back argued
Fife
.

“But the riches are in the east… the east is where the
wealth
is!
That
will hurt them the
worst
!” countered
Douglas
.

“The west does not have wealth, ye say? But it does have its share… and it is where we can link to our success on
Ireland
and Man… Don’t ye figure that for
somethin
’?” barked
Fife
.

Upon hearing the two men argue John shook his head in disbelief and moved deeper into the building looking for an available space that he presumed would be his.

“Riches!
That’s what will get
London
’s blood to curdle… riches wrenched from their hands and into ours!” reiterated
Douglas
forcefully. “I want King Richard’s blood to turn to piss and run out from under his fingernails!”

“And I say it’ll not be so,” Robert growled back with equal fervor. “We all want to pay Richard back for his toothless raid into
Scotland
but we’ll ne’er get revenge by yer scheme!”

John hoped it would not come to the brandishing of blades between the two hot heads.

“I want the spoils of the East March,” repeated
Douglas
trying a less rational approach.

Fife
growled. Then sighed deeply and said in a calmer voice “Very well.”

Douglas
smiled thinking he had won Earl Robert over.

“Take yer portion of the men and go wherever ye wish,” said
Fife
spitefully.

Douglas
paused. He was not expecting that.
“My portion?”

“The portion of the army is from yer lands and vassals and those lords ye can coddle to yer wit. Take them east. I will take mine west,” explained Robert.

“But ye have four times the men, Milord,” said the crest fallen
Douglas
.

“And my father is the king,” threatened Robert, “and my brother is guardian.”

Earl Douglas knew when he was whipped. “I get yer point.”

John Stewart pulled the leather strap latch to the door and went into the room without being announced. “Ye men hain’t puzzled out yer plan as yet?” he asked already knowing the answer.

“Brother John,” greeted Earl Robert as he stood from his place on the hard bench seat.

“Milord, Guardian,” said
Douglas
bowing just enough to be polite. “
Ye’ve
arrived I see.”