Macbeth the King (37 page)

MacBeth raised his brows, as though utterly surprised. "Do I hear aright?" he demanded. "Are you indeed asking for Galloway to be handed over to your jurisdiction, bishop?"

"In spiritual matters only, my lord King."

"But this is scarcely to be believed! Part of my realm of Scotland, a whole province, to be given to England? Can you conceive that any King of Scots could so agree?"

"Not that, King MacBeth." Even Edmund of Durham looked a little agitated. "It is not to England that this see would be transferred. But only to Holy Church under the pastoral care of myself and the archbishop. For the benefit of all. To fill a spiritual void..."

"None, I think, have discerned this spiritual void save you, bishop! How say you, Malduin?"

That man looked unhappy. "1 have not deemed Galloway greatly to lack the ministry of the Gospel," he said.

"And yet you accept no spiritual responsibility for it?" Edmund charged.

"The Bishop of St. Andrews is Ard Episcop of Alba. And Galloway and Strathclyde were never included in Alba." That with an apologetic glance at the King.

"In whose jurisdiction then is Galloway and Strathclyde, bishop?"

"Bishop Edmund—I will thank you, in my royal presence, to address
me.
And not to question my ministers in front of me," MacBeth said sternly. "To answer you—unlike your own, our Celtic Church is not divided into dioceses and territorial jurisdictions—as you well know. It is of a monastic order, and each abbey, monastery and cashel rules its own family and territory."

"But..."

"Lord King!" Cormac of Glamis burst out. "I say that you are over patient! This is not to be borne. Let me throw this insolent Englishman out of your presence! Who dares to hector the King of Scots in his own house!"

"Silence, Thane of Glamis!" MacBeth commanded, "Is the Bishop of Durham not our guest? We must suffer him..."

It was at this juncture that Gruoch chose to enter the hall. No doubt she had been listening behind the hangings of the door, and decided the moment was opportune. All bowed, and the tension lessened perceptibly.

"I
greet you all kindly, good lords," she said. "In especial our friend from England, in the succession of the great Saint Cuthbert."

"Bishop Edmund wishes to emulate Saint Cuthbert in winning Galloway, my dear!" MacBeth observed. "Not, I think, for Christ so much as for the Archbishop of York!"

"Galloway? Win Galloway? You jest, husband!"

"Not so. Or our friend does not. He seeks our Galloway as a diocese of the see of Durham. On the grounds that once it was so, and that our Church neglects that province."

"Neglects? How can that be? You will have told him of your plans? For Galloway. For a new Keledei mission there. Perhaps a new abbey. And a bishop to oversee all."

MacBeth swallowed. "We had scarce got so far, my dear. We have been hearing only Bishop Edmund's claims. He conceives our Celtic Church to have failed there. And thinks to do better. Under Rome."

"And he does not know of this Keledei?"

"I
…
have not spoken of it. Yet," he said, cautiously feeling his way.

All were looking at the Queen with as much conjecture as her husband was seeking not to show.

"It is not for me, a woman, to speak of such matters," Gruoch said modestly. "My foolish prattling tongue! Forgive me, my lord King, if I go too fast. If I may have revealed your intentions out of time. Or perhaps you have decided against it...?"

"Er, no. No. It is but that we have not yet reached so far. In our discussion. We have heard the Bishop of Durham's views. Not given him ours, in any fullness. Speak on."

"Even of the MacDuff lands?"

He moistened his lips. "Why not? As well from you as from myself. Or from others. As well as Queen, you are chiefest of all Clan Duff. If MacDuff is concerned in this, who has more right to speak?" That was the best that he could do in his mystification.

"Very well. The Bishop of Durham will know well how MacDuff, Mormaor of Fife, supported our foes and fled Scotland—since he fled to the Bishop's own Northumbria. Where he was notably well received. Perhaps the Bishop himself succoured him? Now, we hear, he has gone further south still, to the Court of King Edward of England."

"Lady—he came to us as a man in need. A fugitive," Edmund said. "We could not turn him away. In Christian charity."

"Your charity does you credit, my lord Bishop. As shown to many another of our realm's unfriends and rebels. It was necessary that the Mormaor MacDuff and his people should learn their lesson. As outlaw, all his lands could have been forfeit. But my lord King is merciful. He took only certain of the Fife lands. As example to others. These lands he has held, but would not seek profit from them for himself or the Crown. So now he thinks to give them to Holy Church. We have spoken of this many times, to decide what is best. Is it not apt, to give them to the Keledei, the Friends of God, to aid them in sending of their number to Galloway? There to establish new churches, possibly a great abbey, and help to pay for the work of a new bishop to oversee God's cause in that province? Apt in that the Mormaor of Fife has fled Alba, and his lands should be used for Christ's work outwith of Alba?"

There were moments of complete silence as she finished, as the men, all of them, gazed at her, all but open-mouthed.

"Dear God!" MacBeth breathed—but
beneath
his breath.

Cormac of Glamis recovered first. "Ha!" he exclaimed, and grinned broadly.

With a quick glance at him, Gruoch added, "I ask you to forgive my halting account. The High King could have told it to much better effect. But since this concerns Clan Duff, and Duff the King was my great-great-grand-sire; and since Lulach my son is Prince of Strathclyde..."

"My heart," MacBeth said—and now he strove hard to hide his relief, satisfaction and sheer admiration. "You have put the matter entirely well. Most fully. Even, I venture to assert, Bishop Malduin here could not have explained the position better. How say you, friend?"

"I...ah...no, Highness. Or, yes. I, I could not have so...spoken. I..." His voice faded away.

"So now the good Bishop Edmund can return home to Durham, informed and comforted. And assured that the people of Galloway are not to be neglected and their religious requirements well looked to," the King announced, with an air of finality. "And, if perchance, he should encounter the Mormaor MacDuff, he can expound to him the excellent uses his former property is being put to!"

Tight-lipped their visitor bowed stiffly.

"Malduin—see you to our friend's comfort and well-being for so long as he chooses to honour my realm with his presence. Meantime, I shall discover some small token, however inadequate, for him to take back, in humble acknowledgment of these magnificent gifts!" He held up the ring and the crucifix which he had been clutching the while. "Perhaps a Columban reliquary, to remind him of our modest but ancient Church?"

Backing to the door, the two prelates bowed themselves out.

Barely were they gone before MacBeth strode over to his wife, heartily to embrace and kiss her there before the other two.

"My beloved, joy of my heart!" he cried. "Blessed art thou amongst women! The dearest and most cunning, as well as the most beautiful! How you conceived all this
I
do not know. But
I
thank you, my love, I thank you."

"You, my good lord, commanded me to come to your aid in this matter," she reminded. "I invented little or nothing. Only put together what was already there. Put in such order and fashion as to seem apt and honest."

"As only a woman could, I swear! It was most shrewd. Working on the man's weakness, his guilt. This of MacDuff...!"

"Lady—you smote that priest hip and thigh!" Glamis exclaimed. "I would have sent him off in a scurry before ever you came in. But I rejoice now that the King was over-patient. To see you bring the Saxon low. Proud priests I cannot thole—with all respect to the good abbot here."

"I found him little to my own liking," the gravely studious Judex admitted. "And his spiritual pride towards our ancient Church the greater sin. The Queen's Highness is to be congratulated. We are rid of that bishop this time. But we cannot leave it thus, I think. If we do not act on this, in some degree, we shall hear a deal more of it."

MacBeth intervened. "Come, my friends. If we are to consider this, let us do so in more comfort than standing in this hall. If the Queen will have us in her chamber...?"

"The Pope?" Gruoch asked presently, when they were sipping wine in her sitting-room. "Could the Pope interfere, Abbot Ewan?"

"If petitioned he could, I think, Highness. Whether he
would,
I know not. But the Roman Church is very jealous for its territories and sway, however long past. As you have just heard. An appeal to the Pope by the Archbishop of York could result in much trouble for us, for Scotland..."

"Why?" Glamis broke in. "What has that old German, Leo, in Rome, to do with us? We owe him nothing, no allegiance, no concern. What have we to fear from him? We do not need to heed his anathemas."

"Wait you, Cormac," the King said. "Let us hear Abbot Ewan out. He knows more of such matters than do you or I. If he scents trouble, danger, we must hear of it. Go on, friend."

"Highness, the danger is this. If the archbishop appealed to the Pope—and it could be that he would bring in his colleague of Canterbury also, possibly King Edward of England likewise, by-named the Confessor so strong for the Romish faith is he—then the Pope might have to act, even though he might not be greatly concerned. He could issue a papal declaration that

Whithorn and Galloway was within his spiritual rule. And not only these, but Teviotdale, the Merse and Lothian also." They stared at him.

"That would give a cherished weapon into the hands of all Scotland's enemies. Unite them, in a holy cause against us. If we rejected the papal decree, they could proceed against us in arms, with the Pontiff's blessing."

Glamis protested, but MacBeth urged Abbot Ewan to proceed.

"At present, only the Earl Siward is our professed foe. And he is engaged in his feud with the Earl Godwin of Wessex, to our comfort. But unite these two—and they are kin—and we could face the whole might of England. Godwin is the true power behind Edward's throne, his daughter Edward's Queen. And be sure, like King Canute, they wish Scotland brought into subjection to England. Here could be opportunity. Bishop Edmund would not have come here lacking Siward's approval, where all power in Northumbria lies. This was
Siward's
move. He would put Duncan's bastard on your throne, Highness, and rule Scotland through him as puppet. He is Canute's cousin. Edward the Confessor is a weakling, although a man of God. With papal blessing he might be persuaded to launch full war. In name to recover these provinces for his Church, but in fact to subdue the Scottish realm. In especial if he had Danish and Norwegian aid."

"Danish! Norwegian! Save us—why these, man?"

"Neither are greatly Christian realms, by our thinking. But in name they belong to the Romish Church also. King Magnus has suffered bitter defeat, at the hands of the Earl of Orkney, assisted by yourself, my lord King. He cannot love you. Siward is a Dane. Godwin half one. Echmarcach of Dublin also smarting under being outwitted, likewise pertains to Rome. The Pope holds the key of more than Saint Peter! A word could bring all these against Scotland."

Even Glamis was impressed now, but he found voice. "All this is only conjecture, Sir Priest. None of it may come to pass, or even be considered."

"Admittedly, my lord. But it
could
happen so. I have long feared some issue which could unite all these against us, and not seen it until today. Perhaps Siward saw it first!"

"Blessed Saints—what have I done, then?" Gruoch wondered.

"You did what
had
to be done, my heart. The question is, what do I do now?" MacBeth asked. "What could cause the Pope to reject such appeal?"

There was silence for a space, as they eyed the Judex.

"I see no very clear road in the matter," he said at length. "But—you might act first, perhaps. Send an envoy to the Pope, yourself, flatter him. Declare your respect for him as chiefest bishop in Christ's Church. But complain. As a Christian prince. Complain that this Bishop of Durham has come making wrongful demands, like to cause disharmony between the Roman and Celtic Churches, to the disservice of Christ's cause. Blame, I would say, only this Edmund, not the Archbishop. The Pope might feel bound to support an archbishop. Request that this bishop be restrained from any further such interference in the affairs of your realm."

"Could the Pope accede to that? Would he not be bound to support his own?"

"If you could offer inducement. Or threat. In especial, if your representation reached him first. To be sure we do not know that the archbishop, or others, will appeal. But I think that they will." Ewan frowned in his concentration. "We must consider the position in Rome. Leo the Ninth has trouble on his hands. His Church is sorely divided. He was not appointed by the electoral college. A German, the Emperor
imposed
him. To do so, the Emperor deposed Benedict the Ninth, appointed when but a boy of twelve years. But
he
still claims to be the lawfully elected Pope. Leo calls him Antipope..."

"God Almighty," Glamis exclaimed. "And this is Holy Mother Church!"

The abbot ignored him. "Perhaps, Highness, you could make good use of this situation. Xeo will not be looking for further troubles."

"Yes, I can see that. The Romans would do well to set their own house in order before ours! But apart from this of trouble, what have I to offer?"

"Recognition. Recognition from a non-Romish monarch that he is true Pope. And competent to mediate between the Churches. It might be possible to use the Irish Celtic Church also. Certain Irish abbots sent to Clement the Second to seek his answers to questions. Use that, also."

"You have agile wits, my friend—but then I knew that when 1 named you High Judex. This seems like any battle. Using stratagems where we lack real strength. But...it is scarcely firm ground!"