Yes,’ said Joanna speaking for David as she so often did.

‘All will be well.’

‘Yes,’ said Joanna confidently, ‘while we have you to look after us.’

Moray rode away to Musselburgh and a few weeks later a messenger arrived at Edinburgh Castle. He wished to see the King and the Queen.

They knew him for one of the Earl’s squires and the gravity of his face struck terror into Joanna’s heart.

‘You come from my lord?’ said David.

‘My lord, I have sorry news. We had come from Musselburgh to Wemyss when he was taken ill suddenly. He died that very night.’

The children were amazed. First Black Douglas and now the Earl of Moray. Their two protectors taken from them one after the other.

They were too stunned to cry. That would come later. All they could think of now was that they had lost dear Moray.

Nothing could seem the same again. There was a great deal of whispering. Joanna listened and in her bed at night she lay trembling because she feared something dreadful was going to happen.

She must learn all she could. She felt so young, so ineffectual, and David was even more so.

She was not surprised when she heard the lowered voices, when she caught the word: ‘Poison!’

‘No doubt he was poisoned,’ they said. ‘Edward Baliol would have men everywhere. So easy ... a little something in his food. Something in his wine. Nothing will be the same now that Moray is dead.’


* * *

Edward was well aware that there was going to be trouble in Scotland. He still smarted with humiliation when he remembered that campaign of his. He had been so young, so inexperienced. It would be different now, he promised himself, if the opportunity should arise.

He often thought that he would like to carry on with his grandfather’s work. He would like to be the one to subdue Scotland; instead of which, during his father’s weak reign, Robert the Bruce had been able to consolidate his successes. But Robert the Bruce was dead and a little boy was on the throne. True he had had two strong men to stand beside him—Moray and Black Douglas—but now they were both dead.

He was musing on affairs in Scotland when Henry de Beaumont asked leave to see him. Edward was alert. Beaumont was one of those barons whom the Scots had robbed of his possessions because he had sided with the English.

He received him without delay.

‘My lord,’ he said, ‘Edward de Baliol is without. I have come to ask you if you will see him.’

‘Edward de Baliol’ cried the King in surprise. ‘For what purpose?’

‘That is something he would wish to tell you himself.’

‘Then I will see him.’

Baliol! A weak son of a weak father, thought Edward. What did he want? Edward could give a quick answer to that: The crown of Scotland.

Edward waited to hear his request.

‘My lord,’ said Baliol, ‘the Regents of Scotland have both died recently.’

‘They say Moray died of poison. Is it so?’

‘That, my lord, I could not say.’

Will not, you mean, thought Edward. I’ll swear it was one of your agents who administered the fatal dose.

‘And Douglas, in that foolhardy action! I should have thought he would have realized that his duty lay in his own country.’

‘My lord, he died as he thought fit. What I have come to say to you is that Scotland is in turmoil. These two men who were governing—ably some say—are no more. You will know that the King and the Queen are but children.’

‘I should since one of them is my own sister.’

Baliol flinched a little. Was it folly to ask the King of England to act against his own sister?

‘They have selected the Earl of Mar to take the place of Moray. He is a weakling. The state of the country is too weak for him to handle.’

‘And what would you have me do about it?’ asked Edward.

‘I would ask your help, my lord. My father was the King of Scotland. I am his heir. If you will help me to regain what is mine I will pay homage to you as my overlord.’

Edward was silent. That would be a step in the right direction. It would take him back to the position in which his grandfather had stood. It would mean deposing his sister; it would mean dishonouring the treaty he had made; moreover he was bound to pay the Pope twenty thousand pounds if he broke the treaty.

‘My lord,’ said Baliol, ‘the marriage of your sister and David Bruce has never been consummated. If I were King of Scotland there could be a dispensation. I would marry your sister. I would give you Berwick.’

‘Enough,’ said Edward. ‘I cannot help you. Nor can I allow you to march through England.’

‘Is that your final word?’

Edward hesitated just a second or so too long and Baliol’s hopes soared.

Edward said: ‘I shall have to put the matter before my Parliament.’


* * *

Edward was watchful. Meanwhile Baliol had collected together a fleet in England, and Edward had made no objections. In due course he sailed to Fife, landed at a place called Dupplin Moor and rather unexpectedly beat the assembled Scottish forces. During the battle the new Regent Earl of Mar was killed and there was nothing to stop Baliol marching on to Scone where he was crowned King of Scotland.

David and Joanna heard of what was happening and wondered what would become of them. Joanna was of the opinion that her brother would save them.

‘He will come marching into Scotland,’ she said, ‘and Baliol will run for his life, you will see.’

What did happen was that Baliol sent a messenger to them. ‘My lord,’ said the messenger, ‘the King of Scotland offers you a proposition.’

‘How can that be?’ asked David haughtily. ‘Iam the King of Scotland.’

‘It would seem no longer so, my lord,’ was the answer. ‘King Edward de Baliol sends his greetings to you and wishes you to know that if you will renounce your right to the crown he will offer you a safe conduct out of Scotland or allow you to remain in any part you wish.’

‘This is generous of him,’ said David with sarcasm. ‘Tell Edward de Baliol that we deplore his insolence and the Queen and I will remain where we wish in our own dominion.’

The messenger departed and Joanna urged her young husband to write without delay to her brother. She was certain that he would come marching up to Scotland to help them.

Baliol’s letter to the King of England arrived first. He reminded him that he was willing to marry Joanna, to increase her dower and if she declined to marry him he would pay her ten thousand pounds for her portion should she marry elsewhere. All he asked was that she resign her right to the throne of Scotland which came through David the Bruce.

Edward was wavering. In the meantime he had received the urgent call for help from his young brother-in-law.

He would not help him. His excuse was that some of his nobles had been deprived of their inheritance by the Scottish Kings and he could not therefore take sides against them.

Baliol’s triumph was short lived. Many Scots loyal to the young King rose against him and attacked him with such fervour and success that the erstwhile King was obliged to abandon his recent conquest and fly to England.

Edward allowed him to do this and even received him with certain friendliness at his Court. When the news of this reached Scotland the anger of the Scots was intense, and to show their indignation many of them resumed old tactics and crossed the Border with the object of harassing the English, burning down villages and making off with the cattle.

Edward was not altogether displeased. This gave him the opportunity he really wanted, for the thought of setting Baliol on the Scottish throne as his puppet appealed to him. He would not fail as his father had done. There would be no Bannockburn for him. All the same there was the treaty; there was the Pope to think of; and there was the fact that his own sister was married to David the Bruce.

But this was the opportunity to win back what had been his grandfather’s and to carry on with those plans to subdue Scotland for ever which had been the main object of Edward the First’s life.

He had to go carefully though. He was in a delicate position. First he demanded the return of Berwick and that Scotland should render feudal homage to him.

Young David was bewildered; so was Joanna. She had believed that as soon as he heard she was in distress Edward would come to her. He had been so fond of her. He had kissed her so tenderly on parting and had told her that she must always remember that she was his sister and they were friends for ever. Did he mean that she must help him if he needed her but if she needed him that was another matter?

David, primed by his ministers, was given a speech to learn. Joanna listened to him as he practised it. It was depressing that her brother Edward was seen in the light of an enemy.

‘Neither my father nor any of his ancestors acknowledged submission to England, nor will I consent to it ...’ David’s voice droned on. ‘If any other prince should do us wrong, you should defend us, from the love you bear your sister and our Queen.’

Joanna could not bear to listen. Edward! she thought. Oh Edward, how can you do this to us! She wished that she could go to him, see him, explain to him. If only she could talk to Philippa.

The Scots had broken their treaty, declared Edward. They had raided Border towns and they had refused to give up Berwick which Baliol had promised him. If he did not act they would soon be marching further south into England. He was justified in what he was about to do.