[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
"So we are given to understand," Torquil said. "We have heard that Oliphant wished to send to John de
Soules in France, to learn whether the Guardian would allow him to surrender. They say that he does not
deem himself of sufficient authority to authorize surrender, since it was the Guardian who gave him
Stirling, to hold for the crown and community of Scotland."
Lamberton lifted a ringed hand in impatient denial. "It was not allowed. Edward's patience is at an end.
He no longer has interest in negotiating any terms for surrender, however favorable they might be to him.
Since rumor has it that this is the last battle of the war, he has decided to use young Oliphant's honorable
resistance as an excuse to try out all his new siege engines. Perhaps you have seen some of the results of
these past weeks' work. The defenders cannot last much longer, I fear-and God help them all, when
surrender eventually comes, as it must."
"War is ever a brutal business," Arnault said. "But surely Edward does not mean to take retribution
beyond the brutality of the siege itself. Surely the rules of chivalry still apply."
"Perhaps you have not been to the English camp, as I have been," Lamberton said with a curl of his lip.
"But you both were at Berwick. The king's outbursts of savagery have spread fear among his own
people, and this siege looks likely to end in a massacre unless he can be restrained by some of the cooler
and more chivalrous heads who surround him."
"If you have asked us here to avert such an outcome, I fear you will be disappointed," Torquil said.
"Tolerance is the best we can hope for from Edward, and no appeal for leniency from us will carry any
weight."
The bishop turned his face toward the Rood cross, his face still and taut in the dimness. "May God
forgive me if I say it is not the fate of the castle and its garrison that mainly concerns me, though I pray it
will not come to the worst. It is what happens after that, for Scotland-whether this is, indeed, our final
and irrevocable defeat, or whether something can yet be salvaged, even if it is no more than the tenuous
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flame of a single candle to relight the fire of freedom."
"There is one spark which still burns, however faintly," Arnault said.
Lamberton turned to look at him, well aware that Arnault referred to the Stone of Destiny, and how the
Stone pertained to their present discourse. That King Edward had come to doubt the authenticity of the
stone being held at Westminster was almost certainly a contributing cause for his vindictive malice against
all remaining Scottish rebels in recent years.
Mere weeks after the battle of Falkirk, he had sent a band of knights to Scone again, with orders to strip
it bare of any and all remaining treasures. They had found no trace of the true Stone, of course. But after
Lamberton's return from his consecration in Rome the following year-which had been spent trying to
recruit support for Scotland's cause-Arnault and Torquil had enlisted the new bishop in the service of the
Stone, though they had withheld that vital connection of its mystical link with Wallace.
Now, clearly, Lamberton took Arnault's meaning regarding the symbolism of the Stone, but his head
shook almost imperceptibly.
"What we need is not a symbol of kingship, but a man we can crown upon it."
His words came as some surprise, for Lamberton had long been a staunch ally of Wallace, and a firm
supporter of John Balliol as king.
"John Balliol was crowned upon that Stone," Arnault said slowly. "Are you saying that you have
abandoned his cause?"
"With some disquiet-yes, I have," the bishop admitted, looking away with a sigh. "With Balliol as our
absent king, we have come to this: humiliation and surrender. And Balliol now has lain in exile in France
for five years and more, too spineless to take back his throne, and has said he will never return. If we can
find no more suitable ruler, then perhaps we should simply accept Edward as our liege lord and be done
with it."
"Surely, that is not what you propose to do?" Torquil blurted out, appalled.
The bishop stayed him with a gesture. "Fear not, Brother Torquil, I am not yet come to that," he said.
"Oh, I will bow the knee to Edward for now, as I have done before, since that is a necessary strategy to
gain time. But we can hardly strike back, can we, if all our leaders are dead, imprisoned, or in exile in
France?"
"What of Wallace?" Arnault asked. "Have you spoken to him of this?"
Lamberton let out a heavy sigh. "I owe my episcopal see to Wallace-and there is no man more noble in
all of Scotland, and none who loves this country more. Yet, we have come to such a pass that his best
qualities now work against him-and Scotland."
"How so?" Torquil asked.
Lamberton clearly was ill at ease in discussing this topic, and toyed with his crucifix as he spoke.
"He will not abandon Balliol, no matter what. To him, the point of honor is a simple one: Balliol has been
rightfully crowned king, and so he will remain, even unto death. Wallace cannot abandon that principle,
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nor can he feign obeisance to Edward-not even to buy the time we need to muster our strength once
more."
"He would find no mercy from Edward, even if he did," Arnault pointed out. "Edward has made an
official decree that there is to be no peace offered to Wallace unless he delivers himself utterly and
unconditionally-into his will, not his mercy or his grace."
"He would be safer placing his head inside the mouth of a starved lion," Torquil muttered. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl fopke.keep.pl
"So we are given to understand," Torquil said. "We have heard that Oliphant wished to send to John de
Soules in France, to learn whether the Guardian would allow him to surrender. They say that he does not
deem himself of sufficient authority to authorize surrender, since it was the Guardian who gave him
Stirling, to hold for the crown and community of Scotland."
Lamberton lifted a ringed hand in impatient denial. "It was not allowed. Edward's patience is at an end.
He no longer has interest in negotiating any terms for surrender, however favorable they might be to him.
Since rumor has it that this is the last battle of the war, he has decided to use young Oliphant's honorable
resistance as an excuse to try out all his new siege engines. Perhaps you have seen some of the results of
these past weeks' work. The defenders cannot last much longer, I fear-and God help them all, when
surrender eventually comes, as it must."
"War is ever a brutal business," Arnault said. "But surely Edward does not mean to take retribution
beyond the brutality of the siege itself. Surely the rules of chivalry still apply."
"Perhaps you have not been to the English camp, as I have been," Lamberton said with a curl of his lip.
"But you both were at Berwick. The king's outbursts of savagery have spread fear among his own
people, and this siege looks likely to end in a massacre unless he can be restrained by some of the cooler
and more chivalrous heads who surround him."
"If you have asked us here to avert such an outcome, I fear you will be disappointed," Torquil said.
"Tolerance is the best we can hope for from Edward, and no appeal for leniency from us will carry any
weight."
The bishop turned his face toward the Rood cross, his face still and taut in the dimness. "May God
forgive me if I say it is not the fate of the castle and its garrison that mainly concerns me, though I pray it
will not come to the worst. It is what happens after that, for Scotland-whether this is, indeed, our final
and irrevocable defeat, or whether something can yet be salvaged, even if it is no more than the tenuous
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
flame of a single candle to relight the fire of freedom."
"There is one spark which still burns, however faintly," Arnault said.
Lamberton turned to look at him, well aware that Arnault referred to the Stone of Destiny, and how the
Stone pertained to their present discourse. That King Edward had come to doubt the authenticity of the
stone being held at Westminster was almost certainly a contributing cause for his vindictive malice against
all remaining Scottish rebels in recent years.
Mere weeks after the battle of Falkirk, he had sent a band of knights to Scone again, with orders to strip
it bare of any and all remaining treasures. They had found no trace of the true Stone, of course. But after
Lamberton's return from his consecration in Rome the following year-which had been spent trying to
recruit support for Scotland's cause-Arnault and Torquil had enlisted the new bishop in the service of the
Stone, though they had withheld that vital connection of its mystical link with Wallace.
Now, clearly, Lamberton took Arnault's meaning regarding the symbolism of the Stone, but his head
shook almost imperceptibly.
"What we need is not a symbol of kingship, but a man we can crown upon it."
His words came as some surprise, for Lamberton had long been a staunch ally of Wallace, and a firm
supporter of John Balliol as king.
"John Balliol was crowned upon that Stone," Arnault said slowly. "Are you saying that you have
abandoned his cause?"
"With some disquiet-yes, I have," the bishop admitted, looking away with a sigh. "With Balliol as our
absent king, we have come to this: humiliation and surrender. And Balliol now has lain in exile in France
for five years and more, too spineless to take back his throne, and has said he will never return. If we can
find no more suitable ruler, then perhaps we should simply accept Edward as our liege lord and be done
with it."
"Surely, that is not what you propose to do?" Torquil blurted out, appalled.
The bishop stayed him with a gesture. "Fear not, Brother Torquil, I am not yet come to that," he said.
"Oh, I will bow the knee to Edward for now, as I have done before, since that is a necessary strategy to
gain time. But we can hardly strike back, can we, if all our leaders are dead, imprisoned, or in exile in
France?"
"What of Wallace?" Arnault asked. "Have you spoken to him of this?"
Lamberton let out a heavy sigh. "I owe my episcopal see to Wallace-and there is no man more noble in
all of Scotland, and none who loves this country more. Yet, we have come to such a pass that his best
qualities now work against him-and Scotland."
"How so?" Torquil asked.
Lamberton clearly was ill at ease in discussing this topic, and toyed with his crucifix as he spoke.
"He will not abandon Balliol, no matter what. To him, the point of honor is a simple one: Balliol has been
rightfully crowned king, and so he will remain, even unto death. Wallace cannot abandon that principle,
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
nor can he feign obeisance to Edward-not even to buy the time we need to muster our strength once
more."
"He would find no mercy from Edward, even if he did," Arnault pointed out. "Edward has made an
official decree that there is to be no peace offered to Wallace unless he delivers himself utterly and
unconditionally-into his will, not his mercy or his grace."
"He would be safer placing his head inside the mouth of a starved lion," Torquil muttered. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]