sunlight which spilled across the floor and lit the far walls.
Robert’s head was pounding and his tongue felt like old leather as he stood before the king. He had drunk so much the night before, his mind was a blank. He looked at the king warily, wondering why he had been summoned, but Alexander’s face gave nothing away as he stood with his back to the empty hearth. He had seen to it that they were alone. The young man’s face was the colour of cold lard, but his eyes, small, brown and intense, were confidently insolent.
Alexander flexed the joints of his hands together, then he smiled. And for the first time Robert felt a quiver of uncertainty.
‘You are a messenger of the King of England,’ Alexander said at last.
Robert nodded, watching the king’s face cautiously, but Alexander’s expression remained unreadable.
‘I have messages for my brother-in-law of England,’ the king went on, ‘which I should like you to deliver without delay. You will ride south this morning.’
‘But, sire – ’
‘You will leave your household here, Sir Robert, to allow you to make best speed, and you will – you must – reach Westminster by the feast of Peter and Paul. I know I can rely on you.’ He had given him four days to reach London.
Robert narrowed his eyes, wishing his brain was thinking more clearly. His wife… she was behind this. She and her kingly lover wanted him out of the way.
‘Eleyne must go with me, sire – ’
‘No, Sir Robert.’ The king folded his arms. ‘Your wife would be safer here. No harm will come to her while you are away.’ Something in the way he said those words made Robert’s hair stir uneasily on his scalp. So. The bitch had told him, and no doubt shown him her bruises. He shook his head, trying to clear it. Last night, before he had drunk all those jars of Gascon wine, what had he done to her? He shuffled his feet. No more than usual, no doubt.
‘You need me here, your grace,’ he said slowly, allowing a slight undertone of menace to enter his voice. ‘Eleyne cannot stay here alone.’
‘She’ll be safe here,’ the king repeated.
‘She won’t be safe from scandal. And the condemnation of the church.’ Robert forced his lips into a leer. ‘You, as a king and a widower, may be beyond the reach of either, but she isn’t.’
Alexander clenched his fists. ‘There will be no scandal, Sir Robert.’ He paused. ‘There would be even less chance, of course, if your wife were a widow, but I am sure it will never come to that.’ He held Robert’s eye and saw the young man flinch. ‘And do not be misled into believing that your death would cause an incident of any importance,’ he went on relentlessly. ‘The King of England needs peace with Scotland as much as Scotland needs peace with him. The death of an unimportant messenger on some lonely moor at the hands of a few footpads would not even occasion an exchange of letters.’ The king took a step forward. ‘I shall not expect replies to my letters from King Henry. Do I make myself clear?’
V
Lord Fife was waiting for him as he walked towards the great hall, the king’s pouch of letters dangling from his hand.
Fear and anger were still vying for priority when he found himself confronted by his host and drawn into a private corner. ‘Is he sending you away?’ Lord Fife wasted no time on formalities.
Robert raised his chin slightly. ‘He has an urgent message for the King of England. I am the only one who can be trusted with it – ’
Fife laughed. ‘And he has got his way. You will be in England and Eleyne will be in Scotland – alone.’
Robert glowered. ‘What is that to you?’
Lord Fife shrugged. ‘Nothing, but I dislike seeing our sovereign make a fool of himself. He must be detached from her somehow. Why not order her to remain here at Falkland? I’ll look after her if you give the word.’
‘Against the king’s wish?’ Robert could not keep the scorn out of his voice. ‘You think he would quietly ride off and leave her, even if you dared to defy him?’
‘Oh, I would dare.’ The expression in the earl’s eyes was formidable and Robert felt a moment of unease. He scrutinised the other man’s face, trying to read his meaning.
‘You are going to do it anyway,’ he said at last, astonished at the ease with which he could read the man’s mind. ‘You are going to keep Eleyne here, and tell the king she’s gone with me. That’s it, isn’t it? You want her for yourself!’
The earl smiled grimly. ‘I wouldn’t do anything to anger my king, Sir Robert. Believe me, I would do nothing to anger my king.’
Lord Fife was waiting in the stables when Eleyne went to Tam Lin. She did not see him until it was too late. As she entered the stall and began to make a fuss of the horse, the shadow of his stocky figure fell across her.
‘So, my lady, my gift still pleases you.’ The earl smiled. He was very close to her and she could not back away because of the wooden partition in the stall.
‘He pleases me enormously, my lord.’ She turned to face him, her hand still caressing the horse’s soft muzzle. The wonderful feeling of release she had experienced as Robert rode away with his escort of two companions was still with her, but she eyed Malcolm uneasily. ‘I’m very grateful.’
‘How grateful?’ He lowered his voice. ‘Your affair with the king can’t go on, my lady,’ he said gruffly. ‘You must know that. Already it is being talked about. The king has to marry again. He has to get an heir…’
Eleyne had gone cold. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she retorted. ‘What I do is none of your business. Nor is anything the king may choose to do!’
‘Oh but it is.’ Malcolm’s voice was silky. ‘I am the most senior earl of the kingdom, and the king listens to my advice. It will be my honour and my duty one day perhaps to crown Alexander’s son. Don’t demean yourself, Eleyne, you are worth too much. Come away with me – ’
She stared at him in fury. ‘How can you suggest such a thing? Never!’ She ducked under Tam Lin’s head so that the horse was between them.
‘Aunt Eleyne?’ The voice from the end of the stalls made Malcolm swing round with an exclamation of anger. Young Robert Bruce was standing there, hands on hips, a quizzical smile on his face.
‘Rob!’ In relief Eleyne moved towards him. ‘Lord Fife was just looking at Tam Lin again.’ Flustered, she clutched her nephew’s arm.
He grinned. ‘His grace the king is asking for you, Aunt Eleyne. I think he plans to ride out with his hawks.’ He bowed gravely to the earl.
Malcolm glared at the young man, then he smiled. If there were no royal son, young Robert Bruce might one day be his king. Better keep him sweet. He could wait for Eleyne of Chester.
VI
Robert de Quincy slowed his horse and looked across at his companions. They had been riding hard at his insistence and the horses were blown. As the road climbed high over the Pentlands and dived down into the Ettrick Forest, they drew rein.
Robert reached for the wineskin at his saddle bow and raised it to his lips. ‘We’ll be at the border by nightfall.’ He passed the wine to James Comyn. ‘Then we’ll stop and think this through.’
‘Think what through, my friend?’ James asked ‘You have to get the king’s letters to Westminster fast. There’s nothing to think about there.’
‘No?’ Robert reached for the sealed letter pouch and felt it thoughtfully. ‘Alexander wants me out of Scotland, and these are his excuse. I doubt if they are important. I’m tempted to turn back.’
‘Then you’re a fool, man.’ James handed back the wineskin and gathered up his reins. ‘And I for one don’t
