**Chapter One: Anno Domini 1048**
All men serve God in their own way. Some humbly, toiling in the fields of their lords or workshops of their monasteries. Others grandly, moving kingdoms and shaping history. Bishop Burton pondered the varied and disparate ways he served the Lord as he stabbed his templar longsword deep into the neck of the Scottish militiaman, down into his vitals, cleaving his heart and skewering his stomach.
What a grimace he made! Looking up at the bishop with hatred and agony as he spasmed and gurgled blood. Even in death, this humble peasant served the Lord’s design.
And the Lord’s design in Scotland was simple. The expansion of Burton’s diocese. The acquisition of land and serfs. Scotland’s king Macbeth had grown tired of his nobleman Duke MacDougal, whom he resented since MacDougal had sabotaged the wedding of Macbeth’s cousin, coercing the would-be-bride to marry MacDougal’s nephew instead, ensuring their family won the dowry of seven manors, their fields and several mines.
So Macbeth had made a deal with England’s King Edward that should MacDougal be destroyed and his lands seized (save the mines) MacBeth would look the other way. Would even blame MacDougal for offending England in some fashion.