The Thistle and the Rose Read Online Free PDF

ankles; she held her skirts above her knees, as James splashed into the river after her and she pretended to run from him.
    He caught her, as she intended he should.
    “Why, James IV,” she cried, “how bold you are!”
    “Is that your opinion then, Queen Margaret?”
    They embraced there, while the water played about their ankles, and were astonished by their sensations. They were fifteen and people of their age who lived in the early sixteenth century in Scotland were invariably sexually awakened. They had both led more sheltered lives than most young people, and they felt in that moment impatient with their innocence. They seemed bound more closely together because they must lead each other, because they must explore together.
    He drew her from the water and they lay on the bank together.
    “This is the happiest day of my life,” said the future James IV of Scotland.
    But even as they lay there on the bank they heard the sound of urgent voices calling the Prince.
    “Heed them not,” whispered James. “They will go away.”
    But the voices came nearer and Margaret struggled free of his arms and leaping to her feet smoothed her hair, straightened her rumpled gown.
    He rose and stood beside her, and thus the messenger from Stobhall found them.
    “I implore Your Highness to return to the house without delay,” James was told, and he caught the excitement in the voice of the man who addressed him.
    Important events were close; he could not guess how important; but as he walked back with Margaret he sensed that the idyll on the bank of the Tay had been more than temporarily interrupted—perhaps it would be lost forever.
    He felt the remorse even now, looking back over the years. What should I have done? he asked himself, as he had so often. Should I have refused?
    But Margaret's father was among those who pointed out his duty, and Margaret herself stood by with shining eyes watching him, telling him by her glances that he was no longer a boy.
    They were persuading him where his duty lay and among them were some of the most powerful lords of Scotland: Angus, Argyle, the Humes and the Hepburns. And he gave way. Many a time he had said to himself: “I was but a boy of fifteen.” Yet he could never forget that he had allowed himself to ride out with them, while the red and gold banner of his ancestors had been held over his head.
    There was one point on which he never ceased to thank God that he had insisted. “None is to harm my father,” he had declared. “If the battle goes in our favor he is to be brought to me.”
    They had soothed him with gentle words, telling him that he was their leader and his word was law.
    And thus he had ridden to Sauchieburn which was but a few miles from Bannockburn, the very spot where, nearly two hundred years before, the Bruce himself had defeated Edward II of England and restored independence to Scotland.
    The horror of the battle of Sauchieburn stayed with him. Somewhere among the opposing army had been his father, the man who had shut himself away from his son because he believed that he would one day do him harm. Had this old prophecy been fulfilled? James wanted to cry out: But if you had been a natural father to me, if you had let love, not fear, govern the relationship between us, we would not be here this day at Sauchieburn fighting against each other.
    He heard that his father had sent to Edinburgh Castle and ordered that the sword which Robert the Bruce had carried at Bannockburn should be brought to him, that he had said: “As it served the Bruce then, so shall it serve me now.”
    And he had ridden into battle on the fleetest horse in Scotland, the Bruce's sword in his hand.
    James believed then that Sauchieburn would haunt him all his life; and it was true that his dreams were even now disturbed by the sound of the trumpets and the clash of spears. They had not allowed him to enter the thick of the fight—nor had he any heart for it—but he sat his horse fearfully