Crown in Darkness

deft, smooth signals of his fingers and Aaron nodded. They approached the copse and followed the path as it narrowed into a hollow, splashing through the reedy shallows of a small stream and disturbing the blue dragonflies which hung there still enjoying the warmth of the dying sun. Benstede went further on, stopped and looked round for a suitable place to camp.
    Satisfied with the day's journey, Benstede lifted the wineskin from his saddle and, pulling back the stopper, raised it up so its sweet contents splattered into his parched mouth. A crossbow bolt thudded into his exposed chest. Benstede lowered the wineskin slowly and coughed in surprise as both wine and blood dribbled from his mouth. He turned and looked for Aaron but his silent companion was already dead, a second crossbow bolt taking him full in the throat. Benstede slumped like a drunken dreamer from his saddle, the wineskin falling from his hand and the red wine spluttering in circles on the ground as it mixed with the blood pouring from both his mouth and chest. A bird whistled overhead and the dying man almost answered it with the bubbles breaking in his own throat. The smell of crushed grass tickled his nostrils as Benstede wondered what was happening to him. 'Corbett!' he thought. 'Corbett was responsible.' He had made, Benstede reflected in his dying moments, the most serious mistake of his life. He had trusted Corbett. He thought Corbett knew the rules. Nevertheless, Benstede comforted himself, he had done what he had to do. His agents in the Norwegian court in Oslo already had their instructions. It would all be well in the end. He felt the blood rise like a gorge in his throat as the darkness came quietly crashing round him.
    In the shadows of the trees Sir James Selkirk carefully put down the huge crossbow he carried and, drawing his sword, walked soundlessly over to the prostrate figures. Aaron was dead, slumped like some sleeping child, face down on the earth. Benstede lay on his back, hands outstretched, lips still silendy moving as his eyes glazed over. Selkirk stood and watched him die. 'You see, Master Benstede,' he murmured softly. 'I was right! You are leaving Scotland today!'
    Selkirk looked around. He had followed both riders ever since they had left Edinburgh Castle. It had been easy. They had suspected nothing and so expected nothing. The knight had thought he would have to wait longer, but when he realised his quarry intended to sleep out in the open in a lonely Scotish wood, then he knew that such an opportunity could not be resisted. Selkirk walked silendy back through the wood until he came to a small clearing hidden by a canopy of trees. The ground was soggy and easy to break up and, quickly digging a shallow grave, he dragged the bodies of both men into it. He also dug a small hole for the saddles and other baggage after he had rummaged through them for anything of value for himself or his master. The unsaddled horses and ponies were then pricked in the haunches and sent cantering into the gathering darkness. Selkirk was confident that they would find their way back to some farmstead or village where the local peasants would hardly believe their good fortune. Satisfied that all was done, Selkirk collected his own horse and made his way back to Edinburgh. Already he knew his master would be preparing the draft letter to Edward of England sadly answering Edward's expected enquiry on the "whereabouts of his envoy". After all, such accidents, as Wishart would caustically comment, were common occurrences in Scotland.

AUTHOR'S NOTE
    The death of Alexander III occurred as described in these pages. The King and Queen Yolande were often apart and, on the evening of 18th March 1286, the King did announce, to the surprise of all his Council, that he intended to ride through a storm across the dangerous Firth of Forth and so reach Queen Yolande at Kinghorn Manor. The Council, convened to discuss the imprisonment of a Scottish baron, loudly objected and protested that the inclement weather was against such a journey. Alexander, however, persisted and his Councillors did not demur for Alexander's wild rides around Scotland were an accepted fact of life. The King left Edinburgh with two body-squires and crossed at Queensferry. Both the ferrymaster and the waiting purveyor, Alexander, did try to restrain the King but their protests were of no avail. The King began his wild ride into the fierce storm and fell to his death from Kinghorn