Macbeth the King by Nigel Tranter Read Free Book Online

a strange sensation for fighting-men to stand there idle all the long day and watch the enemy mass grow in strength. Towards evening, the watchers on Craig Kenneth could see a group move forward from the centre of the English front to a point a little east of the bridge. It was too distant to distinguish individuals but the Scots leadership had little doubt that it was their enemy counterparts. Presently other men began to carry down what were evidently rafts to the muddy banks of the river. Clearly these were to ferry over probing parties.
    "Now the Dane will learn his first lesson!" the King said.
    Even at that range it was possible to perceive the chaos which developed as the raft-parties reached the north shore. Clambering up the steep banks of slippery mud in itself was barely practicable. But what followed was infinitely worse. Some of the marshland surface looked comparatively firm—until an attempt was made to tread on it, which revealed the greenery to be no more than a thin skin of moss and scum masking deep black mire beneath. There were tussocks and clumps of reeds, but though a man might be able to stand on one of these, to move to another was frequently impossible. Nowhere could anyone move more than a few yards in any direction, however agile. None of the probers got more than a hundred yards from the river, and few that far.
    The English leadership group turned back towards the town.
    "Now they will try other points, upstream and down,"
    Malcolm declared. "And will find none better. And tomorrow, Canute will assail the bridge."
    Just in case the enemy chose to do this before waiting for the next day, part of the Scots army stood guard all night along the causeway.
    In the morning, however, although the English preparations for an assault were evident, with the massing of men around the bridge-head, it was a small deputation under a flag of truce which presently came forward over the bridge, to where the first Scots ranks waited just out of bowshot from the south bank. The Scots command watched from Craig Kenneth.
    In a little while a mounted figure came riding back, while the deputation waited in mid-marsh. It proved to be young Donald, son of the Thane of Doune, in command at the bridge-head. He announced that Canute, King and Emperor, requested speech with Malcolm Kennethson, in peace and amity.
    The King spat out an oath. "Go tell Knut mac Sven that I know of no emperor save that of the Romans. That if he comes in peace to my realms, why does he bring scores of thousands of armed men? And tell him that I am an old done man and that if he wishes speech with me, he must needs come to me, not I to him. Across yonder bridge and causeway!"
    In something over an hour the youth was back. "Sire," he panted. "The King Canute sends word that he will be happy to meet you in mid-causeway. He desires to speak with you on a number of matters of concern to you both. In especial your tribute to him for the Scots realm, of which he says he is overlord. And of the benefits of belonging to his empire, along with the English, the Danes, the Norse, the Swedes, the Irish and others."
    "Ha! Then go tell the Dane that if he desires tribute he must needs come and collect it, like lesser men. And that I will meet him in mid-causeway only with a sword in my hand. That is all."
    Now there was major activity in the Scots camp—for Canute could scarcely ignore that. Companies began to pick their way down through the marshland, hundred upon hundred. From this north side there were firmer approaches, almost tracks, with cattle wading in the pools and water-meadows. From these it was possible to penetrate quite deeply into the swamp, although by round-about routes. The defenders had had plenty of time, and labour, to cut and lay miniature causeways and platforms of brush-wood, branches and tree-trunks, all leading to various sections of the true causeway, on either side, rather like the pattern of veins in an inverted leaf. Along these