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A Douglas! A Douglas!

by P. M. Kane

454 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #04-0240; ISBN 1-4120-2412-9; US$29.57, C$34.00, EUR24.29, £16.95

He was the one chosen to carry the brave heart of King Robert the Bruce into battle. He was the Good Sir James Douglas, Scotland's most gallant and yet forgotten hero.

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about the book      about the author      excerpts      catalogue info

About the Book A Douglas! A Douglas! is a romantic, action packed and emotionally inspiring novel based on the true story of Sir James Douglas, a gallant and fearless Scottish knight of medieval times, who devoted his entire life to the freedom and liberty of his nation. His father was the first noble to take up arms alongside William Wallace, and, like Wallace, was imprisoned, and died in the tower of London. The young Douglas had his estates confiscated by Edward I of England, his destiny was pre-determined, he had no choice. He took up arms with King Robert the Bruce. He fought alongside Bruce and became his first lieutenant, and most devoted friend and follower. His life was one of constant warfare in a lawless land, a life where brother fought with brother, family with family and nation with nation. These were times when the strong ruled the land and the weak were forced to submit or face instant death. He sought out the one common enemy and became obsessed with its destruction. He lived and died for his cause. He gave up his life while fulfilling the dying wish of his beloved King. His final mission was to carry the brave heart of King Robert the Bruce into battle. His enemies called him 'The Black Douglas.' His nation remembers him as, the Good Sir James Douglas.

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About the Author

Patrick was born in Lanarkshire, Scotland in the late 40's. He is married with two sons. Over the last twenty years he has worked with high tech manufacturing organisations in various management positions, and more recently as a management consultant specialising in the control of inventory. By accident he came across the amazing tales of the Black Douglas, which rekindled many childhood memories from his past.

As well as a passion for the life of The Good Sir James Douglas, his other interests are the Scottish countryside, wildlife, photography and classical music. He currently lives in West Lothian with his wife Moira and Holly, their adorable west highland terrier, who has kept him company many a late night as he worked at producing his first novel.

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Excerpts

Excerpt from Chapter 4
Meeting with Longshanks

The first crop of the autumn harvest was being cut, and all who were able-bodied, young and old, were assisting in the urgency to complete the task before the end of the recent dry days that followed weeks of drenching rain along the Fife coast. Outside the residence of Bishop Lamberton of St Andrews, two young men were loading bales of barley and oats onto a cart, in preparation for transport into town. 'Young James!' called Bishop Lamberton. 'I'm in receipt of some very important information which requires your attention,' he added, with great seriousness. The younger of the two men approached the Bishop. 'Your Excellency?'

'King Edward of England is at this moment making his way to Stirling to meet with the nobles of Scotland. I have been asked to attend,' explained Lamberton. Young Douglas listened with total attention. 'Can I please come with you, your Excellency?' he asked. 'I would like to see the face of the man who killed my father and stole my inheritance.'

'You may accompany me, but only in support of my plan. It is a simple and honourable plan,' answered Lamberton, adding 'We can discuss it further whilst we journey.'

The other young man, who had continued working during this conversation, stopped and approached the Bishop. 'Your Excellency, might I accompany you?' he requested, with head bowed. 'Of course my dear Cuthbert, your protection and loyalty will be most appreciated,' replied the Bishop. 'You are a dear friend and loyal servant, and I am sure that Sir William and Lady Douglas would be most proud of your dedication and support to the upbringing of young James over these last six months.'

The rain continued to fall relentlessly as the three riders made their journey south-west to Stirling. A break in the clouds lifted their spirits as they finally approached their destination. They were requested by a stable man to leave their horses at the bottom of the long steep road leading up to the heavily armed fortress. He offered food and water for their tired beasts. Having been on his horse for some considerable time, Lamberton was glad of the offer and welcomed a chance to stretch his legs before his important forthcoming meeting.

As they made their way up the muddy pathway, young James caught his first sight of an English soldier since his father was taken. Both Cuthbert and Lamberton observed the expression on his face. 'James!' cried Cuthbert. 'Remember what I told you, control and discipline,' 'I'm only looking!' replied the young Douglas with an expression on his face suggesting that he would dearly love to have a go at the English sentry.

As they came nearer to the castle gates, more English soldiers were visible, as they patrolled the road leading up to the entrance. One group of three was engaged in a hostile argument with a roadside trader who was trying to make a living selling fresh fruit to passers by. 'How can I make a living if you lot keep stealing my goods? I have a wife and children to feed,' he cried out. 'Shut up,' answered one of the soldiers, who grabbed the trader by the neck. 'Another word out of you and it will be your last,' he threatened.

On arrival at the gate, young Douglas and Cuthbert were left behind, while Bishop Lamberton went inside to join other senior members of the church along with key Scottish nobles. After an hour had passed, young Douglas turned to his friend and asked, 'What do you think is going on?' 'Probably more treachery, more threats, and more wars,' Cuthbert replied. 'I want to see King Edward, that Longshanks,' spat out young Douglas, as he paced up and down the square, 'and I want him to see me.' 'Is he really as cruel as they say?' Douglas asked, as he stopped pacing for a moment, and turned to look at Cuthbert. 'Yes!' replied Cuthbert. 'He is the most ruthless of all who have sat on the English throne. You must be patient my young friend, above all else you must maintain control of your feelings, and not show any fear,' advised Cuthbert.

As the two lonely figures sat waiting, a loud cry was heard coming from further down the muddy roadway. Both Douglas and Cuthbert turned to see another trader being abused by the same English soldier. As the soldier repeatedly kicked into the body on the ground, his two partners were helping themselves to the freshly baked bread laid out on the trader's stall. Douglas and Cuthbert turned and looked away, since there was nothing to say, and nothing they could do at this moment, but the anger within them was painful, suppressed, and desperate for the day when it could be released.

A short time later, a guard appeared at the main doorway accompanied by Bishop Lamberton. The Bishop raised his hand and gestured to Cuthbert that they were safe before beckoning young Douglas to come forward and enter. As they entered the wide torch-lit corridor, the young Douglas walked behind Lamberton. He stared up at the faces of each of the guards, who were positioned at regular intervals along the long walkway. Douglas wondered if any of these guards were involved with the capture and death of his father. 'If they were, some day they will pay,' he thought to himself. The guards paid no attention to the young boy walking behind the tall, elderly Bishop. As they approached the dark oak door at the end of the corridor, the two guards blocking their way moved aside. Douglas could feel his heart pumping faster than he had ever experienced in his young life. The intense fear forced him to take a deep breath, as he took the final steps towards the door. He regained his composure, bowed his head, and followed the bulky frame of Lamberton.

As they both entered the large hall, young Douglas maintained his self-discipline. With eyes focused on the floor in front of him, he remained behind his protective Bishop.

'Lamberton!' cried the King of England, his voice echoing through the large stone-walled hall. 'You have requested my time. Be quick!' he demanded, in the loudest voice that young Douglas had ever heard. 'Sire, I present to you this young man. He is of sound and noble character, and now seeks to be your most humble and loyal servant. I pray, Sire, that you receive him here today to accept his homage and to grant him the return of his rightful lands,' announced Lamberton. The young Douglas, still with head bowed, came out from behind his protector and took several steps to the side, his movement suggesting independence in purpose.

'Lands! What lands does he request to be returned?' barked the King. 'Sire, I pray that you will correct that which is wrong and unjust. I beg your kind consideration,' replied Lamberton. 'Stop wasting my precious time and come to the point,' roared the agitated King. 'Sire he claims the estates of the name of Douglas, for his father was the Lord of all Douglasdale,' answered Lamberton. With his head still bowed, young James Douglas heard the King hiss 'Douglas!' The King's rage was fearful to behold as he continued, 'Sir Bishop, your position protects you. If you are to show any allegiance to my crown, make no such request upon me. His father was always my barbarous enemy, who supported and fought alongside the savage Wallace. It was right and just that he finally died for his actions in my prison. He was always against my sovereign position; therefore, I am entitled to take what was his. The boy can have his inheritance, but not the lands or titles of his father.'

Young Douglas raised his head and for the first time looked into the ferocious face of Longshanks. Douglas's pacing heartbeat had now slowed down, and his face appeared expressionless as, without fear or anger, his eyes pierced into the eyes of Longshanks. The King looked back at the son of Douglas, and saw a look of startling directness which, if coming from someone older, could have provoked a hostile response. 'Clifford has been given the lands that you speak of, for he has always been a loyal and trusted servant to my crown,' Longshanks concluded, and curtly turned away.

The young Douglas felt his stomach churn, as if he had been forced to eat the most vile and distasteful of all decaying foods. The sudden agonising internal pain and discomfort caused him to bend his young body forward and prevented any words from being uttered. If he were to find the strength to overcome the crippling stomach pains, and somehow summon the courage to speak back, who knows what this unforgiving King, who everyone yielded to, would do. He knew that to plead justice, to argue for fairness, or to seek forgiveness for his father's doings would all be to no avail. He chose silence instead. Nor did Bishop Lamberton speak further, but ushered his young page to a hasty retreat. As they both walked towards the doorway, the son of Douglas turned his head for one last glance at Longshanks. King Edward caught the cold glare in the young man's eyes as they made parting contact. The King's eyes were puzzled, for he was not sure what to make of that most unusual expression coming from the eyes of one so young.

The travellers from St Andrews made their way out of the castle and down the muddy pathway leading out of the town. Douglas and Cuthbert noticed that the three soldiers were continuing to harass and abuse the street traders. The soldiers appeared to be drunk from excessive consumption of free ale and were staggering as they approached Bishop Lamberton.

'What do we have here?' asked the more aggressive of the group. 'For your penance, my dear Bishop, you must give me all your possessions, or you will not go to heaven,' he demanded, while laughing and threatening the Bishop. 'If you don't get out of our way, I will give you the back of my hand young man,' replied Lamberton. 'We are messengers of King Edward and if you don't let us pass, I will call the Captain of the Guard.' Lamberton added, as the cowardly bully backed down. The soldiers stood aside and let the travellers pass. In a final act of drunken rage, the ringleader lashed out at one of the traders standing by. Bishop Lamberton quickened his pace, and quickly disappeared round one of the many buildings that lined the steep twisting roadway. Cuthbert followed quickly behind, but sensed a slight hesitancy in young James, who appeared to pause and kick at the ground in front of him. 'James, please hurry,' urged Cuthbert, as he also disappeared round the tall building.

Young Douglas bent down as he turned round the corner and out of sight. He swiftly picked up the granite stone chip that he had dislodged and kicked round the corner. His left hand held the piece of hard stone, while his right hand undid the leather belt around his waist. On looking back he could see the abusive soldier staggering across the roadway and saw too that the others had their backs to him as they walked up towards the castle. The son of Lord Douglas now unleashed his first act of revenge. In a few seconds the belt was swirling above James's head and the drunken soldier dropped to the ground without a sound, blood pouring from the wound above his left temple. With a few quick paces, young James quickly caught up with his companions. Cuthbert, on noticing his young friend redoing his leather belt said, 'A dangerous move, but well done.'

As the three tired travellers made their way back to St Andrews, Lamberton said to his young squire, 'My dear young James, our diplomatic plan of approach did not appeal to the compassion of King Edward. We must now go home and live in peace.' 'I say this, there will be no peace with me as long as Longshanks lives, and until my inheritance is restored,' answered Douglas, who appeared to have grown in stature over these last few days.

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Catalogue Information

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