Chapter 14: A Scheme At Gairoch
December, 1286
Alexander, Prince of Scotland and Earl of Gairoch sat next to his heavily pregnant wife Sancha, and watched the scenes unfolding before him. They’d invited several notables from around the area and even the Earls of Mar and Buchan to their home in Gairoch Castle, for a festive meal before the grand celebrations in Stirling. It hadn’t snowed yet this year, which was a relief. Alexander did not want to lose his wife or his children. Already there were two children for him and his wife, a son Alexander, named Lord of Mann by the King, and a daughter Margaret named after Alexander’s mother. Sancha was with child once more, and Alexander was both happy and a bit worried about that. He knew the problems of pregnancy well now. Sancha had been in labour for twelve hours with Margaret. He blinked as the Earl of Buchan came and sat down next to him.
Alexander Comyn, Earl of Buchan was a big man, he towered over most people, with his fiery red hair and his ruddy complexion he looked like a giant out of some sort of story. “My Prince.” The man said.
“Lord Buchan.” Alexander said in acknowledgement.
“Quite the festivities you have arranged for us today I must say, my Prince.” Comyn said. “I must admit I was quite surprised to receive an invitation.”
Alexander knew why the man was saying that, but he feigned surprise. “And why is that, my lord? You are one of our closest allies and friends, why would we not invite you?”
Buchan said nothing to that, instead he asked. “I know that there were some complaints from your side of the court over the appointment of Bruce’s man to the King’s guard, and for that I thank you. It is important we maintain a balance.”
Alexander nodded. “Naturally.” He did not say that he would not have gone for a Comyn man either. Instead he would have chosen one of the Hamiltons to sit in the guard of the King, but his father had overridden him.
“Now, there was something I wished to speak with you about, that I fear might not yet get to the King’s attention.” Comyn said.
Alexander said nothing, he merely waited, and hoped it would not be something to do with the Bruces. Eventually Comyn spoke. “I have received word from my daughter Marjorie that the Lord of Lauderdale came to visit her and her husband some nights ago and demanded their help.”
Alexander raised an eyebrow, the Lord of Lauderdale was the sort of man who cautionary tales were told of to little children. Indeed, the whole family was of that sort. “What did he want?”
“He wanted their assistance in handling one of his debtors.” Comyn said.
Alexander repressed a snort. “And I trust your daughter and her husband told him that such a thing would break the law. No lord should ask an Earl for help with their debts.” That had been something his great-grandsire had introduced to deal with the local chieftains some years ago.
“Of course, my prince.” Comyn replied. “But it was who the debt collector was that prompted my daughter to write to me.”
Alexander raised an eyebrow. “And who was the debt collector?”
“The Lord of Liddesdale, my Prince.” Comyn replied.
“Liddesdale?” Alexander asked surprised. Liddesdale was a small lordship on the border, not particularly wealthy, but a proud family. “How have they been able to afford lending money to someone who owns more land and money than them?” He asked.
“Exactly. I think there might be more to this.” Comyn replied. “We all know that Liddesdale’s father was known for his ties with the Jews, perhaps his son has done something similar.”
Alexander blanched a little at that. It sounded so sinister, but the Jewish people he had met had been nothing but friendly and kind. Indeed, two of them had helped provide comfort to Sancha during her labour and had been better at suggesting how she could ease the pain than the doctor Alexander had had. “Perhaps, or perhaps he has been using his words to con people out of money.”
Comyn nodded. “Perhaps. I do think it is the right thing to investigate, though, my Prince.”
Alexander nodded. “Agreed. I shall investigate this myself. Leave the letter your daughter wrote with my steward and I shall take the matter from there.”
“Yes, my Prince.” Comyn said, he rose, bowed, straightened and then walked away to go and speak with someone else.
Once he left, Sancha turned to him and asked in Portuguese. “What was that about?”
Alexander took his wife’s hand and said. “Someone has been breaking the law, and I need to see who it is.”
Sancha nodded. “Of course.” She knew he’d tell her more about it later that evening.