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addressed his doughty opponent.
    ‘You are a long way from home, William of England. With so many men, I assume this is not a hunting party.’
    ‘I will come to the point, Malcolm of the Scots. You attack my northern realm as far as Bamburgh and Durham in the east and Carlisle and Penrith in the west. This must cease forthwith.’
    ‘The border between our kingdoms has never been agreed, so who are you to say whose realm it is? Besides, what my men may have done is nothing compared to the slaughter you meted out to the English, a people you now call your own.’
    ‘What I do in my own domain is my business. You will stay out of it, south of a border we will agree here and now at the line of the Wall of Hadrian.’
    ‘That is an insult. Cumbria has been part of Scotland for centuries.’
    ‘Not any more. I will take your son as hostage to our agreement and I also require you to send Prince Edgar from your court. He may go to Europe, but I do not want him on this island fomenting trouble among my people.’
    At that, I felt compelled to assert myself.
    ‘My Lord Duke, they are my people too and I have a stronger claim to be their lord than you.’
    ‘You offend me, Prince Edgar. I am your King; even the rebels at Ely acknowledged it.’
    ‘But I do not!’
    ‘Enough, Edgar.’
    My brief spat with William had given Canmore time to think. Forthright though he was in his verbal sparring with William, he knew he had to concede.
    ‘It is a hard bargain, but I agree to your terms; your army gives me no choice. I will not let them do here what they did in Northumbria. I will bow to you this day; but take your men back over the border where they belong. Duncan will join your court in England and Edgar will leave these shores directly.’
    Canmore and William dismounted and entered the base of the tower. In circumstances that William had contrived with great symbolism and with Walchere, the new Bishop of Durham and Earl of Northumbria, presiding, the two Kings swore their agreement on the ancient Bible of Bede, brought especially for the occasion from Durham. Two monks had to hold the giant book so that Malcolm could place his hand on it. Then, to make the obedience complete, William laid his hand over Malcolm’s and rested his baculus, the fabled Viking mace of his ancestors, on his forearm.
    The deed was done. William had secured his northern border, and Canmore could be at peace in his Alban realm – for a while, at least.
    My blood ran cold as I contemplated the circumstances. Malcolm and his Scottish warriors were a formidable force,but he stood there humbled by the overwhelming strength and ambition of William and the Normans. As for me, I remained the embodiment of the defeated English, a mere witness to yet another Norman conquest.
    Even so, my determination to find my own destiny grew ever stronger.
    On hearing the outcome upon our return to Dunfermline, the Queen was relieved that Malcolm had acted with such restraint, but greatly upset that part of the price was the loss of her son and brother.
    Duncan took a small retinue and left within hours to reach William’s army before it had gone too far. I left two days later to make my way to William’s neighbours and enemies in Flanders and France. However, I would be back far earlier than I anticipated.
    I travelled with only a dozen men and two stewards, and moved quickly through England’s ravaged North.
    It was a difficult journey for me. The Great North Road was a hive of activity with cartloads of provisions of all sorts going backwards and forwards. York and Durham and the burghs towards the southern part of Northumbria were alive with masons and carpenters about their work, but it was a different story away from the routes under the watchful eye of the Norman overlords and their garrisons.
    Ragged little children would often appear at the side of the road, begging for food. Sometimes, half hidden by the trees, the remnants of abandoned villages could be