Spider King ✔️

Chapter 7 - Madness

True madness cannot be achieved by a man who still has love in his heart. I must take it away. Take what is most dear to you. Yes, yes, only when the light fades can the darkness consume.

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The ride North had been long and arduous. Heavy eyes pushed downwards as the hypnotic mists wisped past him. Thick fog shrouded Robert from Scone onwards; it's tendrils clinging to his cloak as he rode through the misty soup, almost as though it was trying to prevent him from reaching his destination. He leant forward on his horse as it approached the moat which led to Kildrummy Castle, and willed it onwards as he felt the warmth radiating in his chest. From the gatehouse between the two white towers that stood ghostly-white amongst the mist, a familiar face walked hurriedly onto the drawbridge towards him.

"Elizabeth!" He jumped off his horse with open arms, catching his wife as she bounced into his embrace. "My beautiful Liza! How long has it been?" He bent down to lift her, but was met by a rather large bump protruding from her stomach.

"Too long my King. Too long..." Tears flowed down her radiant cheeks as she looked upwards with glowing eyes, filled with overflowing delight.

"How you have flourished with our child within you, my love. Our firstborn," said Robert with a soft smile.

"You on the other hand..." Elizabeth replied with a child-like grin. "You have seen better days I'm afraid. Let's get inside."

Robert wrapped his cloak around her as they walked together into the Castle. "Wait for me in our quarters, I must speak with my brother." He kissed her forehead delicately, as he pushed her off towards the central tower. She ran without hesitation, turning back slightly at the threshold, giving him a mischievous wink.

Do not forget about me, O' great King.

Neil Bruce was a hard man. No smile or embrace awaited Robert as he entered the drawing room, however, his brother could not hide the fondness in his eyes as he turned to greet him. Instead, a firm handshake was exchanged. A towering monstrosity of a man, he stood at equal height with his older brother; Neil was one of the very few men who could claim to do so. Robert the Bruce had made a name for over-powering the fiercest of foes.

"My brother, John Comyn of Badendoch, is dead."

"How?" Said Neil with a suddenly sunken face. "When?"

"I tried to barter with him in Greyfriars, and when he threatened my family, my rule as King. Well. I put a knife through his throat."

"In God's Holy name, Robert?" He lurched towards Robert in seeming disbelief. "And what of the Church? Surely they have excommunicated you?"

"Absolved. Bishop Wishart pronounced my remission in Glasgow Cathedral. However, he warned that the Pope may not forgive so easily."

"Aye, the Bishop has always hated the Comyn's, even more than the English I would say." Neil's face scrumpled as he raised a hand to his chin.

"We must gather every man that is loyal to the Crown. We must march on Bannockburn. Longshanks holds Stirling Castle, and if we can drive the bastard out, there might be a chance we can finally gain soverigntity over our lands."

"But why now, Robert? It will take months to gather the amount of men you are talking about. Years even."

"I may be absolved of my sins, but if the Pope decalres me an enemy of the state, no man will rally behind me. Scotland is a good as Longshanks."

"Then I will do what must be done," said Neil, scurrying around the room in search of a writing utensil. "I must send letters to the Clans, gather every good man I can. Robert, please rest, you must be weary after your long journey. I will return in a few days."

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Elizabeth de Burgh lay by candle-light, as Robert entered their bed-chambers. The flickering light cast a shadow of her voluptuous figure onto the wall behind her. His eyes grew wide with desire as he lay down beside her; it had been far too long.

"Mo Leannan," he whispered softly in her ear as he kissed her neck.

After a time of reunited passion, the Queen fell asleep in her husband's tender embrace; Robert on the other hand, would not be granted the warm serenity of peaceful slumber. He fidgeted endlessly as his eyes fluttered with disturbed dreams. Nightmares.

Yes, Yes.

He was back on the battlefield. A horse screamed in the distance, causing him to look upwards to meet the gaze of Edward Longshanks; charging towards him with his sword pointed to kill. Instinctively, he ducked, slicing at the horse, and killing it in one swipe. The English King toppled to the ground, trapped by his fallen steed.

"May you burn in hell for eternity," spat Robert, as he grabbed Longshanks by the throat.

Yes. Kill. Kill him.

"R... Robert. My love. Please...

He awoke from his dream, seething with murderous rage. Between his trembling hands, was his wife Elizabeth. Her glowing beauty replaced with a pale, strangling blue.

"Liza?" He let go of her delicate neck. It was too late. He fell onto her corpse in despair, as his grief-stricken tears poured onto her limp body.

"What have I done..."

One last chapter to go. If you've made it this far, please consider commenting and voting on my story. What did you think of the end of this chapter?