Henry called a hasty council, at which David, now seventeen, attended. It was no large gathering, for it was harvest-time and most of the lords were at their own demesnes and manors superintending the ingathering of their lands' wealth. A worse time could hardly have been chosen - or a better, from Robert's point-of-view. Anselm, the Archbiship was, fortunately, on a visit to the palace, and present; as was Gundulf, Bishop of Rochester, famous for his building skills, who was at Winchester for the King's scrutiny of plans for a great new castle or tower at London. A third Bishop was William de Giffard, still Chancellor but now given the vacant see of Winchester itself. Simon de St. Liz, Earl of Northampton, was the only earl present, although there were a number of lesser lords, including de Breteuil, now chief minister, and
William de Pont-de-l'Arche who had succeeded him as Treasurer. Also Reginald de Lucy. It made a less than warlike council.
After Anselm had opened the proceedings with a brief prayer, Henry spoke. "My friends - you all know the situation. My brother Robert has four thousand men, I am told, landed at Itchen-mouth - normally no great host. But these are mainly veterans of his Crusade, now at a loss for employment, hard and experienced fighters. They lack horses, which is our slight advantage. But I can only muster barely one thousand two hundred! I have sent summons to all lords and knights within a day's journey, to assemble and march with all speed. But it will be a week, at least, before I have an army strong enough to challenge Robert. What do you advise, my lords?"
"Delay," Northampton said. "Somehow we must delay him. To give time. Some device."
"Easily said. But how? Robert will perceive the situation as well as do we."
"Use what forces we have, Sire, to make many feints and movements between here and his army," de Lucy suggested. "Many small companies, busy. To give the appearance of much activity and larger numbers."
"If Robert did not know the country so well, that might serve something. But he was part-reared here at Winchester. He will know where to send his scouts - and they would soon tell him of the true situation."
"Then we must talk, parley, delay that way," Bishop Giffard said. "A deputation, to discuss terms. At length. Until Your Grace has assembled a sufficiency of men."
"What terms could be discussed, for days? He is on our very doorstep, man! Anything that I can offer Robert will not delay him one hour. He seeks the throne!"
"This of delay," Archbishop Anselm questioned. "Must we consider only a device? Is there no agreement which we may come to, in honesty?"
"I shall not yield the crown," Henry asserted flatly. "And that, I think is all that he will want. I tell you, he would make no king for this divided realm. He is weak."
"If he is weak, Sire, then we must make play on his weakness," Bishop Gundulf said. "There must be a way."
"A vice-royalty? Over part of the kingdom?" Giffard proposed. "The principality of Cornwall?"
"Aid for his aims in Normandy," Breteuil put in. "We know that he has lost some parts to the Count of Brittany and the Emperor. Offer him an English army, in due course, to help him retake them."
"If he takes this throne, he can have all the English armies he requires."
"May I speak?" David asked, diffidently. "Why not?" Henry said grimly. "We are but beating the air, anyway!"
"It is said that the Duke Robert ever lacks money. They say that his treasury in Normandy is ever empty. And he has been away on this Crusade for over four years. With many men to pay. Perhaps that is in part why he has brought them here - to fill their pockets. If he could do so, and fill his own, without taking Your Highness's crown, he might be tempted."
Henry looked at him thoughtfully.
Encouraged, David went on. "Did not King William - King William the Second, I mean - buy the Duke off with money, once? So our tutor told us. When the treaty was made between them. After Your Highness's father died."
"Scarce that. It was in 1091. William gave Robert ten thousand marks, and took all Normandy in pledge. That was to help pay for the Crusade."
"And was there not a payment another time?"
"Aye - that was to my loss! When William got England, in our father's will, and Robert got Normandy, I got five thousand pieces of silver- that was all! And advice to wait! I have waited. I gave Robert three thousand of them, for lease of one-third of the Cotentin. And went to act Count there. But William took it all from me, by force of arms - which was scarce Robert's fault."
"No. But it means, docs it not, that he loves money rather than land, and power? Twice he has given away his lands for silver and gold. You say that he is weak. May not this be part of his weakness?"
"Out of the mouths of. . ." Anselm began, then shook his grey head, smiling. "Your pardon young man. Forgive an old man. But — here is sound reasoning."
"Lord - am I to buy my brother?"
"Highness - in the North Tower of this castle are chests by the score, filled with gold and silver pieces. I saw them. Merest metal, lying there. You have used nothing of it, I think? Now if it would serve , or some part of it, to win you free of this trouble, to keep your crown, is not that good use for it?"
"The lord David speaks good sense," Bishop Gundulf said. "If the Duke would accept."
"He is no warrior," Northampton asserted. "This of the Crusade was not his usual. He has never been a man for war and battle. If he was offered money, much money, the certainty of it, as against the great uncertainty of fighting, slaughter. . ."
"Especially if the offer was made with dignity. And made more to his taste," Anselm said. "A thought to the future. Robert is now fifty years. He will be concerned for his old age. A pension, as well as the present moneys? It would tempt. Also perhaps ensure no further trouble."
"At least it would give us time. For talk, debate, chaffering," de Lucy nodded. "While Your Grace gathers men."
"Perhaps, yes. I would not wish to do this . . . chaffering," Henry said distastefully. "But if it was attempted for me. . . ?"
"I will go," Anselm volunteered. "I know Robert. Indeed we have been friendly. I will act mediator."
"Very well. A deputation, an embassage. Choose whom you will."
"May I go?" David asked.
"Why, lad? What could you do, in this?"
"My uncle Edgar the Atheling is there. This appeal to the Saxons. I could tell him that you are good to the Saxons. That Matilda - Maud - the Queen, ever considers their cause. That war could only hurt them. It might all help . . ."
"This young man has, I think, something of his mother's abilities. The Queen Margaret was a notable negotiator," Anselm said. "I would be glad to take him, Sire."
"As you will. We must consider this of the moneys. How much . . . ?"
* * *
The next morning, then, the deputation set out southwards, almost as though they were making for the New Forest again. Anselm had decided that the cavalcade should be impressive and dignified but not warlike. Amour propre, appearances, self-respect if not pride, were all likely to be involved here; and a careful and light hand needed. Especially if debate, discussion, had to be prolonged for strategic purposes. So the military manners were not those required; and apart from de Breteuil and David, practically all the members of the company were clerics, including the two bishops and most of Winchester's clergy. The quite large party was led by the King's mounted instrumentalists and a choir of singing boys, to provide sweet music and the right atmosphere. They did have a small escort of horsed soldiery however. And they sent scouts well ahead.
Instead of turning away westwards for Romsey at Otterbourne Hill, they continued due southwards to follow the Itchen valley. Some seven miles from Winchester, just past Bishop Stoke, their scouts came back to tell them that a great host was ahead of them, in the North Stoneham area, a couple of miles.
No doubt the Duke would have his own scouts out, to report their presence. They unfurled the Red Cross standard of St. George and the diocesan banners of Canterbury, Winchester and Rochester, set the choir to its bes
t singing, and proceeded thus to meet the invaders.
Well before they saw the Normandy army, mounted patrols appeared on either flank, to escort them onwards, at a distance, their gleaming steel armour and trappings contrasting notably with the very evident non-martial aspect of the Archbishop's company. These would certainly send back information as to what was approaching and that no immediate battle was to be looked for. Presently they saw the great array of the Duke's force blocking all the Itchen's shallow vale ahead, north of Swatheling. They rode on, chanting, if a little breathlessly.
A richly-armoured party came riding out to meet them, under the banner of Normandy, David recognising the tall, stooping figure of his uncle beside the thicker-set, stocky man in the centre who was distinctly similar in build and appearance to King Henry, although obviously older. Anselm kept up the musical accompaniment until the two groups were only a few yards apart, then signed for silence. He kept his beringed hand upraised, however, and sketched the Sign of the Cross over the fellow-Normans in front.
"In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, I bless you and yours, Robert fitz William," he said clearly.
A little taken aback, evidently, by this greeting, the Duke coughed. "Anselm!" he said. At close range it was to be seen that though he had features similar to those of both Henry and Rufus, in the elder brother's case these had the appearance of being somewhat blurred, were less positive, although he was in fact better-looking than the other two. But his dark, close-cropped hair was powdered with grey and there was an air of something like dissipation about him, the family corpulence of belly pronounced. "What is this . . . mummery?"
"No mummery, my lord Duke, but friendly greeting. King Henry, your royal brother, sends his welcome, as do we all. We bid you welcome to England again on your return from your noble expedition against the infidel in the Holy Land. Of which His Grace, and my humble self, hope to hear account in due course."
"Indeed." Robert recovered himself. "You may have to wait for that, my good Anselm! I did not come here to tell stories! But to teach my insolent young brother a lesson. Do not name him king, Archbishop. How can he be? I am the King of England, both by birthright and by treaty agreement. Let none mistake."
"Henry is crowned King at Westminster, my lord Duke, with all due coronation circumstance. He has the oaths of allegiance of the great ones of this realm. And the kingdom's Treasury ..."
"As usurper, man —usurper! You of all men know it. I am the true heir to England, the rightful suzerain."
Anselm shook his grizzled head sadly. "Heir, suzerain, usurper, my lord Duke — here are but words, I fear. Words, when we are faced with facts. The facts are that Henry is King. He holds throne and kingdom. You were far away when your brother William died. England had to have a king, at once. Or there would have been disaster, revolt, war, chaos. Had Henry not taken the crown then, there would have been no crown now, other than an empty title. These are the facts - even if they are hard. This divided realm needed a strong hand, there arid then. I am sorry."
"I think that you have become a hypocrite!" Robert said.
"I hope not that - I pray not that. But I have learned to face facts. Learned it in sorrow and travail. As you know. As, I fear, must you."
"Must? You say that to me, old man? I have come for my throne, and will have it."
"My lord Robert - hear me. Even if the throne should be yours by right, Henry will not yield it now. So you must needs fight for it, battle against the assembled might of England. Is that your wish? War — for it would be a long and bloody war. Remember, you would not be fighting Saxons only, as did your royal sire. But Normans. Your own kind. Arc you prepared for such a long war? Even if perchance you won the first battles. Henry will resist to the end. If he does not beat you at the beginning. You would have to fight up right through England, through Wessex and Mercia and Deira and Cumbria and Northumbria. And then still fight, for the King of Scots' sister is Queen to Henry. Are you prepared for that?"
This was David's cue. He cleared his throat. "My lord Duke — I am David of Scotland. The Queen's brother." His voice was a little uncertain but strengthened as he went on. "I greet you, humbly. And you, my lord Edgar - your nephew. I bring you both the Queen's good wishes. She says to tell you that she has the Saxon folk always in her heart. She will never cease from aiding and supporting them. But King Henry also is their friend. He has already shown it, clearly. The Saxons are no longer oppressed, their lords freed from the prisons. They are the King's friends, now. That is truth. I, David, have seen it."
"A device, nephew - a stratagem to keep the quiet meantime," the Atheling said. He had a tired, querulous voice. "It will not last. Henry no more loves my Saxons than did William, I swear!"
"Why not, Uncle - if the lord Robert can do so?" David asked simply. There was a moment's silence at that. Then the Duke spoke.
"Such talk is profitless," he declared. "I have not come all this way to argue with clerics and striplings about my rights — but to take them. I am not dependent on the aid of a few Saxons."
"Yet the Saxons, my lord Duke, since they inhabit all the land, however lowly their state now, could of themselves deny you any lasting victory," Anselm said. "Even if you won battles, they could starve your armies behind you, whilst you fought your brother in front. And Henry will fight, be sure of that. He summons all his power, near and far — although he hopes not to use it against his own kin. In the name of Almighty God, I beseech you, consider what you do. And consider this England which you would drench with blood."
"Not I, but Henry. He is the usurper, not I. Would you have me to turn back now, empty handed? I, Robert fitz William, like some cur denied bone."
"Not empty-handed, my lord. Nor turn back. King Henry would have you to come on, to be his favoured guest, you and yours, in brotherly amity. In token whereof. . ." The Archbishop turned and waved hand.
Two of the escort, at his sign, led forward a pair of heavy pack-horses laden with wicker panniers. The soldiers bent to throw open the covers of these. Inside were iron-bound chests. In turn the lids of these were raised to reveal them filled with gold and silver pieces. There was an involuntary murmur from the company opposite.
"King Henry recognises well that your interests have suffered in all this, my lord," the Archbishop went on. "He would show his regard and sympathy, as best he can. There are three thousand gold pieces here, and as much again in silver. He gives this, freely. Take it now. There is as much again awaiting you at Winchester, if you care to come - and to send back your armed force here. Back to their boats at Itchen-mouth!"
Robert's face was a study. He could not keep his eyes off the shining gold and silver. He actually licked his rather slack lips. But at the same time he frowned in doubt and indecision.
"If ... if I was king all this, and more, would be mine, anyway," he said. He looked around him, at Edgar Atheling and the others, for guidance, support.
He got little, all having eyes only for those chests. Gold, vast amounts of yellow gold, can have an extraordinary effect on even resolute men, especially professional adventurers such as the Normans.
"If your lordship won the war. And survived," Anselm pointed out, mildly. "And if all was not squandered or looted by then. This is yours now. Moreover, King Henry suggests that a pension would be fair and convenient. A sum, perhaps five hundred gold pieces, paid each year, for the rest of your lordship's days. From the English Treasury."
That clinched the matter. Robert, essentially lazy, indolent, was not the man to resist such a comforting notion, moneys coming to him without effort until his dying day, without responsibilities, the responsibilities of a kingdom to win and rule.
"So be it," he nodded. "That is just and proper. I shall repair to Winchester further to discuss the matter with my brother."
"I applaud your decision, my lord Duke. We all do. And this host, here — it will turn back?"
"Yes. Some hundred or two will accompany me, as is suitable, the remaind
er will go back and await my return to Itchen-mouth. That is best . . ."
More than the choristers had something to sing about on their way back to Winchester.
4
THE MONTHS and into years that followed were full ones, as David grew to manhood, full for all in England, an England on the move. For Henry was something new in kings, not just a warrior and master of strategy like his father, nor yet a tyrant and self-indulger like his brother, but a man of ideas and vision, something of a statesman, with vehement notions of justice; yet strong, with little that was gentle about him, indeed much of the family harshness, so that even the boldest, brashest and most powerful of his lords thought twice and thrice before countering him - and few could be more powerful, bold and brash than some of the great Norman earls whom the Conqueror had created out of his companions-in-arms, even though they had been but the sons of grooms and sergeants in their native Normandy, some owning as many as two hundred former Saxon manors scattered over England. Such men were not easy to rule, especially with Henry seeking to raise up again the down-trodden and dispossessed Saxons, so that all his strength and much of his harshness was in fact necessary-even though David mac Malcolm for one could not bring himself to accept cruelty as a deliberate instrument of rule, as Henry appeared to have no difficulty in doing. They remained friends, and the King took the young man into his confidence and sought his advice on occasion — his credit had been much enhanced by his part in the Robert interlude — and they remained fairly close. But there were occasions, and aspects of policy, where they could scarcely have been further apart in altitude. Not that Henry allowed this to deflect his chosen course in any great -degree - for after all, David was only the Queen's young brother, landless and essentially insignificant. In such periods of what was almost estrangement, Maud — as she had now to be called by all, even her brother — held them together. For Henry was devoted to his wife, her influence greatly to the good, although even she did not always find it easy to live in amity with one of the implacable Norman breed. As, for instance, when Henry insisted on bringing his illegitimate daughter Sybilla over from the Cotentin, to join his Court, begotten in his youth and now a pert and arrogant sixteen-year-old, cause of strife from the moment she arrived.
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