Part 28 (2/2)
”It won him a bride and the promise of future allies in Ireland,” Lamberton said. ”And in that, he has done no more than the rest of us, for all that he did it sooner. Perhaps he merely saw, before we did, the futility of continuing to fight for Balliol's lost cause.”
”You think, then, that he has been biding his time, waiting for the right occasion to make his move?”
Arnault suggested.
”That is how I read his mind,” said the bishop. ”It was only a matter of time before his father died and the way was cleared in that regard. In these past months, I have come to believe that if victory and freedom are ever to be ours, then we need a fresh vision of the future. It is my hope that Bruce may be able to provide that-and today I propose to put the question to the test.”
He answered the Templar's questioning looks with an ironic smile. ”I have invited him here today to meet with me secretly, so that I can determine whether or not we have a solid foundation of hope for the future.”
”You intend to speak to him of the kings.h.i.+p, while he is yet in Edward's service?” Arnault asked, caution in his tone.
”I myself am in Edward's service,” Lamberton pointed out, with a droll arch of one eyebrow. ”I would have to look hard indeed to find more than a handful of men who are not.
What I seek is a remedy for that situation.”
”Why have you asked us here?” Torquil asked.
”As you were quick to see, the situation is a delicate and difficult one,” Lamberton admitted. ”I judged it best to have neutral but sympathetic witnesses on hand, to seal whatever arrangement I can reach with Bruce. There is also the matter of the Stone of Destiny. While I place every trust in the word of Abbot Henry, I have it only by his report that the stone Edward stole is, indeed, a mere subst.i.tute. You, on the other hand, can confirm by your own witness that the true Stone is safely concealed, merely awaiting a king to be crowned upon it and claim its ancient authority.”
The two Templars exchanged measuring glances. With Balliol abandoned, Bruce was, indeed, the only viable candidate-and a good one, if he could be persuaded to put Scotland's good before the mere advancement of his powerful family. But though Bruce had been discussed and cautiously approved by le Cercle, based on Torquil's insights, they had not expected Lamberton to endorse him quite so soon.
They had come here half expecting to discuss a plan to ensure the safety of the Stone, should Edward truly become King of the Scots at last; but instead, the bishop was displaying a sense of imagination and purpose that might yet rekindle the nation's fortunes.
”It is a bold step you are taking,” Arnault said at last. ”And perhaps the time is past for too much caution.
I will confess to certain. experiences which foretell a future king who might answer your prayers. His face, however, I have not seen, and I hesitate to give him a name. If you have judged Bruce rightly, then it may be that you have seen the way forward. We will certainly do what we can to facilitate your plan, if this seems to be what is intended.”
Before Lamberton could respond, the door creaked open and one of the monks waved a signal to the bishop.
”Bruce has arrived,” Lamberton said. ”I need a few minutes to speak alone with him before I call upon your support. I ask you to conceal yourselves in the side chapel, where you will be hidden from view but still able to overhear us.”
The pair nodded their brisk agreement and moved into an alcove to the right of the sanctuary. A few moments later the main door opened again to admit Robert Bruce.
Now a mature man of more than thirty years, a little younger than Torquil, the Earl of Carrick was plainly dressed and without escort, sword and dirk at his waist-and probably mailed beneath his robe-but outwardly unthreatening. As he strode down the aisle, his demeanor carried no hint of deference, either for the man he had come to see or for the holy place where they met. For all his boldness, however, his expression was one of curiosity as much as irritation.
”I hope you appreciate the risk I am taking, in agreeing to a clandestine meeting, my lord bishop, when King Edward is only a few miles distant and in a disagreeable mood,” he said.
”Risk has become as much a part of our existence as drawing breath these days,” Lamberton responded.
”Without it we can do nothing at all, unless we would live like creatures of the sea, forever mute and moving with the tide.”
”Your tongue is as able as ever, but I am not here to admire your eloquence,” Bruce said.
”Then, why are you here?” Lamberton countered.
”Surely that is for you to explain, since it was you who issued the cryptic invitation.”
”You would not have responded unless you had some inkling of my purpose, Robert Bruce. While it may not be exactly the same as your own, the two coincide to a degree that cannot be ignored.”
”What purpose of mine do you speak of?” Bruce asked defensively.
”To become king,” Lamberton answered flatly.
Bruce's expression froze, and he eyed the bishop in stony silence.
”You are as unwilling to deny my a.s.sertion as you are to confirm it,” Lamberton said. ”But what lies in the heart cannot remain forever hidden, or it will wither away to nothing but the lost and bitter dream of an old man who pa.s.ses his final years cursing his own want of courage.”
This bald statement caused Bruce to bristle. ”I have no want of courage, I a.s.sure you of that!”
”Then, will you remain Edward's servant forever?” Lamberton asked.
”For as long as you, maybe!” came Bruce's hot retort.
Lamberton raised his hands in a placatory gesture. ”Peace, my lord, I have not asked you here to quarrel with you. With your father's recent death, you are now a candidate for the throne in your own right. All hope of Balliol even being willing to act as a king is now lost, so it is time to look elsewhere. Would you agree with that?”
”Most heartily,” Bruce replied. ”But would you have me declare my desire for the throne when, just across the river, our liege lord Edward is preparing to roast men alive for far less presumption?”
”You have kept your intent hidden for long enough,” Lamberton said evenly. ”Do not let an excess of caution be your undoing.”
”There is no shame in acting with caution and wisdom,” Bruce said. ”If I had followed Wallace's stiff-necked course, I would have lost my lands, my t.i.tles, and my family to become a fugitive running from cave to cave, fleeing Edward's men and my own people. One does not become king from a position of weakness, but of strength.”
Lamberton lifted an eyebrow. ”Is that what you think? Did not Balliol start from a position of strength?
He was king, by the will of Edward of England and the a.s.sent of the community of this realm, and still he lost it all. Is it not better to start with nothing, and to win the crown, than to begin with the crown and lose all, including honor itself?”
Bruce's brow darkened. ”John Balliol's crown has been empty for some time. Nor do we even possess that symbol of that kings.h.i.+p. Edward took it, along with all of the other symbols of our sovereignty. It is no longer even possible for a man to be properly crowned King of Scots.”
”In that you are mistaken,” the bishop said mildly.
Pa.s.sion flared in Bruce's gray eyes, confirming that Lamberton had not misjudged the man. Ambition there certainly was, but also something more.
”The Stone of Destiny never left Scotland,” Lamberton stated flatly. ”What Edward has placed on display in Westminster Abbey is a worthless copy.”
Bruce's gaze narrowed. ”You know this to be true? You have seen it yourself?”
”In all honesty, I cannot say that I have,” Lamberton confessed, ”but I have witnesses here who will confirm what I have told you. Brothers, would you please join us?”
Arnault and Torquil emerged from the side chapel, white mantles almost aglow in the dim light. Bruce stiffened as he cast a suspicious eye over their Templar robes, but then he looked again at Torquil's face.
”You are familiar to me,” he said uncertainly.
”On the morning of Falkirk, you gave me your horse- and a sword,” Torquil confirmed, briefly holding his hand away from the hilt of the weapon. ”You found me lying unconscious and, like the Good Samaritan, you came to my a.s.sistance.”
”So I did,” Bruce acknowledged with a nod. ”And you did tell me then that you were a Templar.” He paused a beat. ”Has the sword served you well?”
”It has-and would serve you now, if you mean to fight for Scotland and her crown.”
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