Sisters of The Bruce 1292-1314 (Abridged Version )

Sisters of The Bruce Chapter 9.3,4&5

                                                                                                       III

Scotland

Kildrummy Castle

October 1299

Isa, dear heart,

Murchadh took the longer route via Orkney rather than run the gauntlet of the English blockade. Rob entreats us to remain vigilant and to continue to use lead seals so our letters can be disposed of easily at sea, if necessary.

To hear of the death of your lord husband was indeed a shock, but a king is as mortal as any man. We are concerned for you and Inga. Have you found peace or security of tenure? Rest assured dear one, you will always have a home at Kildrummy.

An early blanket of snow fell last week. It is quiet as if the land lies in a deep trance. Yet while nature sleeps, our country's turmoil persists. Scotland has always had a history of being better at diplomacy than war. The sustained efforts of the bishops and magnates to sway Pope Boniface in Scotland's favour brought about a response from him. This past summer saw King John Balliol released from the Tower into papal custody at Cambrai in France. A small, but sweet victory! King Edward has been busy this year. He made a treaty with the King of France. In return for handing over Flanders to France, he received Guienne. Also, he married again – this time to King Philippe's sister, Margarite; a beautiful, young bride who should keep him otherwise occupied.

Garnait tells me the Scottish parliament is committed to restoring the government's administrative functioning. To this end, the Guardians - Robert and the firebrand Comyn, signed charters across the country from Glasgow to St Andrews. In August, they made forays into the forest and planned to attack Roxburgh, but found the castle and town heavily defended. Instead, they moved through Galloway, so hostile to Carrick and the rest of Scotland, cleansing that festering sore.

Some days past, Robert rode in with his retainers. Weighed down by all that has happened, he is thin, Isa, and ever fearful that people do not trust him. I tried to imagine what that must be like and could not. Frustrated at every turn, his goal is far from reach. It galls him beyond bearing. Mary asked where Wallace was now. Rob had no answer. The man seems to have gone to ground. How such a giant of a man could disappear, I know not.

Marjorie carries no enduring memory of her father at his visits. She consents to sit upon his lap but sees him as a kind stranger who brings gifts from time to time. Ever present in her daily life, Garnait is more of a father to her. Rob thanked him for taking such fine care of his child but it grieves him all the same.

This may interest you, Isa. Rob queried if Garnait had news of Lady Elizabeth de Burgh, daughter of the Earl of Ulster. The earl's sister, Ergidia, as you know, is married to Sir James Stewart. Garnait could offer no explanation as to Rob's interest and, much to my chagrin, he showed no inclination to enquire further!

Kirsty

                                                                                                          IV

Norway

Bergen

November 1299

My dear Kirsty,

Thank you again for your news. A very generous, annual endowment has been allotted to me, along with lands and houses here in Bergen. Regarding the management of my own affairs, I am assured of my independence. Most relieved am I some man of wealth and status is not to be given my hand in marriage to gain his loyalty for the king. I might even select my own husband, should I choose to do so. It is beyond belief!

It is only where Inga is concerned, I need consult the king. Can I could return home? The answer is yes – I am free to leave at any time – but not with my child. Norway is Inga's home and her royal heritage must be cherished. In truth, it is no hardship for me to remain here. I have a fine life and want for nothing. With war ever present, I could not bear to live in Scotland now. My words will sadden you but that is how it must be.

On a happier note, Euphemia, wife of King Haakon, is a kindred spirit of sorts. We have much to speak about - world affairs, literature and poetry. Fluent in several languages, Effie, as she likes to be known, is keen to teach me the Danish and German tongues. Already, she assembles a mighty library of tomes from far and wide, which the learned Bishop Narve and I are bursting to access.

Fortunately for Effie, the king is a learned man and plans to establish clerical schools both here and in Oslo, the new royal capital, and to compile a royal archive. A gifted leader, he holds a firm vision for Norway. He is concerned about the Hansa which he believes my lord husband allowed to siphon off much of Norway's trading wealth. Apart from his inherent dislike of clerics, Eric was swayed by his advisors, much as a reed bends before the wind. Haakon intends to take on the barons and reduce their power. Already the sparks fly between them. One in particular, Auden Hugleiksson, would be wise to tread warily with this new king: he is no swaying reed, and a new wind blows through this land. With threats from the north, east and south, Haakon is on edge about the precarious defence of his kingdom. Effie says he will build a series of forts to prevent the Finns, Swedes and Danes gaining strength over Norway. Always, I am reminded this country's violent past is a mere shadow's breath away.

Time is slipping away, and Effie's move to Oslo draws close. Any visits will be by sea and only in good weather, for Norway's new capital lies at the head of a fjord, well beyond the high plateau of bogs and lochs to the east. Until next time.

Your loving sister

Isa

                                                                                                                      V

Scotland

Kildrummy Castle

December 1299

Isa, dear heart,

Do not trouble yourself. I understand your new life has a stronger hold than the old. We are forged anew from our experiences. God willing, I will look upon your face once more. When that might be, I know not but it pleases me we remain in touch.

This year, we experienced a stronger sense of security but not so those further to the south. Most recently, a siege took place at Stirling.

Garnait relayed that our lord father remains firm in his loyalty to King Edward and is back at Lochmaben, rebuilt now as a fortress on another part of the loch. Grandfather's home is in ruins. The townsfolk raid the old castle and repair their houses under cover of darkness. I believe our brother to be at Turnberry. He must be close by Galloway, for his goal is to gain the trust of the people or harry them, wiping out pockets of disaffection. Such are these strange times. So far he has avoided direct contact with Father despite the fact his men laid siege to Lochmaben – without success, I might add. News filtered through – Sir William Douglas, veteran soldier and patriot, died in the Tower. I cannot bear to think of the poor man's suffering. His young son, James, is now without a father.

For us, life goes on with fulfilment and joy. The children are flourishing. Excitement abounds concerning the gifts they hope to receive on the eve of Christ's birth. Donald continues to be a healthy babe for which I am most thankful.

Despite the cold, the day is crisp and clear. Mary hawks on the Don with our Strathbogie kin who are spending the festivities with us. Isobel seems in good spirits having come to some arrangement with Edward. She brought along their babe: Alexander is dark-haired and wiry like his father and cannot stay still for long.

Despite the disarray and extra work visitors always bring, we remain determined to enjoy this special time. Mhairi works well with the Kildrummy cook, old Aonghas. They are preparing a grand feast, and the delicious aromas wafting up the stairwell distract me from my task.

Yuletide blessings from us all!

Kirsty