Page 34 of Tempted
“My ships are already armed, sire.”
The king raised his eyebrows. “Without my authority?”
Ram shrugged. “I’ve letters of marque against the Portuguese. My ships must be able tae defend themselves when I take my wool tae Flanders. I’ve ten thousand sheep, ye ken.”
“So it is feasible tae convert mercantile ships? Over two-thirds of Scotland’s vessels are the property of my subjects. We keep England, France, Flanders, and the Low Countries supplied with fish, wool, and hides. How many ships do ye have?” asked the king.
“I have only three vessels, sire. I could use more. One is here at Leith, the other two are anchored where the River Dee empties into Solway Firth.”
“Castle Douglas is on the Dee. Can ye sail clean up tae the castle?”
“Only with the smallest ship, sire, but we get close enough,” Ram said. “Angus has ships, of course.”
“Do his vessels bristle wi’ cannon?” James challenged.
“Ye’d best ask Angus.”
“By the Power, yer a canny bastard,” James said with a grin. Though technically the king’s authority was the highest in the land, if there was a power behind the throne, it was Archibald Douglas, Earl of Angus. If ever James was absent or disposed, Angus was acting Regent of Scotland, but where the king was loved, Angus was feared. “I expect sometime tomorrow he’ll be returning from Stirling,” James said, and was amused at the look that came into Ram’s face. “Ye chafe under Archibald’s authority.” James laughed. “I didn’t think there was a man breathed who put fear into ye.”
Ram grimaced. “I don’t fear him—I fear myself and the injury I may do the bloody dictator one day.”
The king shook his head with forbearance. “Douglas men are all savages, yet I know that Archibald loves ye above every other Douglas, and only wants what’s best for ye.”
“Or what’s best for him—not always one and the same thing, sire,” Ram pointed out. Though they were discussing the iron-fisted authority of the Earl of Angus, Ram did not make the fatal mistake of underestimating the king. There were times when he was easygoing and intimately friendly, but his word was law, and he would assert his authority if it meant hanging every last one of his hardened Scots lords.
The next day brought not only Archibald Douglas and his son, the Master of Douglas, with two hundred men at their back, but a veritable horde of disgruntled nobles, each vexed and querulous and all clashing one with another. The king received them en masse, saw his error immediately and brought the audience to a close, banishing them to the bowels of Edinburgh Castle until they could be summoned one at a time in strict pecking order.
This was enough to make them sink their teeth further into each other’s throats. When James summoned his admiral, James Hamilton, Earl of Arran, first, it immediately plunged Archibald Campbell, Earl of Argyll, into a black temper. He raged that though Arran was in charge of Scotland’s navy, that merely amounted to one new flagship and a ragtag of dubious floating arks.
The king asked Arran about the seaworthiness of his new flagship, the Great Michael, then went on to tell him he intended to keep the shipyards busy building vessels from now on. The admiral eyed him, wondering if Rob Kennedy had been before him with his tale of the English attacking his ship. He kept his mouth shut about the incident and instead launched into a complaint about his cattle being raided James raised his eyebrows and assured him he’d get back to him when he got to the bottom of it.
When Archibald Campbell rolled into the presence chamber, James knew better than to expect a courtier. Only a trained ear could understand his thick Highland burr, and when he spat on the velvet carpet, James forced himself to remember the invaluable service this powerful earl had recently rendered in destroying the rebellious MacDonald, who had declared himself Lord of the Isles and become a traitorous law unto himself.
“I’m no’ best pleased yon whoreson Arran takes precedence o’er me in yer favor, Jamie!”
“No such thing, Archibald. You are invaluable to me. Are you not Master of the Royal Household?”
“A tinpot empty title, Jamie, when stacked against Lord High Admiral,” he said bluntly, and spat again.
James sighed. Argyll was a canny old bastard; land greedy to boot. The king’s other nobles feared Argyll’s growing might, feared that before he was finished, he’d have the whole of the western Highlands under his thumb. Still, it was the only way to keep rebellion down, so James knew he must keep Archibald Campbell loyal. “Governor,” James said. “Governor General of the Northwest. I think that would be in order.”
The old chief grunted with satisfaction, was about to spit, saw the king’s forbidding eye upon him, and changed his mind. “Governor general,” he beamed. “Now that’s summat like a royal post,” he said with satisfaction.
“Now then, Archibald, what’s this complaint you’ve brought me?”
“Firkin’ Kennedys raided ma prize longhorns! Yer permission tae hang the bastards frae their ain trees?”
The king wasn’t amused. “I thought your daughter was betrothed to Donal Kennedy. I’m in favor of such a marriage bond.”
“The governor general’s daughter wed tae a bloody Kennedy?” he asked in outrage.
The king tried to hold his patience and failed. “It’s gone straight to your bloody head, Archibald. I can have it off you in a minute!”
“Ma haid or ma new office?” asked Argyll, in a heavy attempt at humor.
“Christ, not only do I have Kennedys and Hamiltons at each other’s throats, now I have Kennedys and Campbells! Settle yer differences, man! Ye’ll sign a bond of marriage and a bond of friendship. And ye’ll do it before ye leave.”
Argyll eyed Jamie, saw he was adamant and would brook no refusal, so he immediately acquiesced. “When the daughter of Argyll weds, it should be in the capital. The Highlands are too far off fer Scotland’s nobility,” said the canny Scot.
