Crown in Darkness

Princess Margaret is only two, the same age as Edward's son. The Scottish court know it will be years before either succeeds to the throne and who would be their guardian?' Burnell smiled. 'No less a person than our sovereign dread lord, Edward of England, and he would not allow the grass to grow under his feet. English castles built. Scottish strongholds garrisoned with English troops. English barons, churchmen and clerks in positions of responsibility. No,' Burnell concluded. 'I have thought the matter out. The murder of Alexander III will only lead to the death of the Princess Margaret and the deaths of hundreds, maybe thousands, of English and Scots and in the end we will lose.' Corbett sat and thought about the visions he had seen in the Pictish village and the prophetic words of Thomas of Learmouth. 'Well,' Burnell said, rising to his feet. 'You did well, Hugh, the matter is now in my hands. You are to return immediately to London and resume your duties. I shall see you before you leave.'
    The old Bishop, muttering to himself, shuffled out of the door. Corbett remained, looking out of the window. The sun had gone, a strong wind had arisen. He looked across the Tweed and saw the dark stormclouds gathering above Scotland. Images passed through his mind. Alexander III, King of Scotland, black against the night sky as he fell to his lonely death. Wishart, foxy eyes, the power and the fury of the Lord Bruce. Then, once again, the lines of Thomas of Learmouth passed through his mind and he knew the prophecy was right. The green hills below him would run with blood before the murder of Alexander III, the death of the Lord's anointed, was expunged from the face of the earth. His death would need atonement before his crown moved out of the gathering darkness.

NINETEEN
    In Edinburgh Castle John Benstede, clerk and special emissary from Edward of England, was also drawing his affairs to a close. His baggage and trunks with their secret compartments for letters, memoranda, bills and items of business had been taken downstairs by Aaron and strapped on sumpter ponies waiting in the courtyard. Benstede looked round the cold stone-wall chamber. He had left nothing and was secretly pleased to be going. He had already visited Bishop Wishart to thank him for his hospitality and had been slightly surprised by the Bishop's effusive warmth. He was too friendly, thought Benstede, and wondered if the Bishop knew anything about Corbett's revelations.
    Benstede slumped on to the straw-filled bed and, not for the first time, quietly cursed the inquisitive English clerk. He had heard about Corbett, a secretive, ambitious, ruthless man though, Benstede concluded, one with a conscience. Such a man should not be allowed to play a part in public affairs. There was a time for conscience but this did not apply to the important matters between kings and countries. Surely, Benstede thought, would it matter if a few men died so that peace could be maintained? And the good order Edward had established in England be spread as in Roman times throughout the entire land?
    Benstede worshipped Edward. He saw the English king as a living reincarnation of all that was good and proper in a knight and in a king. Benstede had read the Arthurian romances spread by the minstrels and troubadours of France and England and considered that if they were true, then Edward was Arthur come again. The English king had brought peace and good order to Wales, built roads, stimulated trade, healed the wounds of civil war and, through his use of Parliaments, brought the whole kingdom and entire community of the realm into one coherent organisation. Benstede loved order and hated chaos. Everything had its place, everything should be ordered. Benstede was a doctor and had seen the ravages of sickness in the human body. As Saint Augustine said, "The kingdom was the body and there were diseases ever ready to break out, the pus and the evil humours spreading through every limb causing infection and bringing everything to nothing".
    Scotland under the wrong king could be a bubo or growth on England. Time and again Edward had confided to Benstede his dreams about not only restoring the empire of Henry of Angevin but expanding it. Northern France was to be conquered, Wales and Ireland annexed and Scotland subjugated. The empire of the mysterious Arthur was to be re-established in harmonious union under one ruler. Edward paid particular attention to Scotland, pointing out that the