This is the sixth of a series of ten 'cameo' articles that appeared in The Scottish Field magazine beginning in December 1990 issue. These articles were intended to be provocative. Tranter has dealt with this subject in much greater depth in some of his novels. Can you Tranter fans recall their titles? I'll tell you what I think after the master storyteller has made his point.       Rory Mor.

      THE first two King Alexanders left no great mark on Scotland's history, but Alexander the Third did. He was a good and vigorous monarch, reigning in the second half of the 13th century, he who won the Battle of Largs in 1263 and extinguished the Norsemen's threat to Scotland. Sadly, his three children by Margaret, daughter of England's Henry the Third, all predeceased him. In due course Margaret died also; he married Yolande de Dreux, from France, and brought her back to Scotland.

      She was young, fair, nubile, and the Scots were relieved that now they would indeed gain an heir to the throne, the succession being all-important for peace and prosperity in those days. Up till then, the nearest to an heir the King had had was his infant grand-daughter, the little Maid of Norway; his late daughter Margaret had married Erik, King of Norway.

     Alexander installed the fair Yolande in his summer palace at Kinghorn in Fife, a happy man. But one December day he had a Council meeting in Edinburgh; and after attending this the vehement and spirited Alexander decided that he must get back to his desirable wife that same night. After crossing Queen Margaretžs Ferry , over the Forth, he rode on through the darkness; and approaching Kinghorn his horse stumbled at a clifftop and fell over, its rider with it. The King was killed.

      Great was the consternation and sorrow in the land -- even though the death had been foretold by Thomas the Rhymer, our poet-prophet. But perhaps Queen Yolande was with child? The Council gave her nine months to prove the matter; but when no child was forthcoming, back to France she was packed. So now Scotland had only the seven-year-old and delicate Maid of Norway as heir to the throne. And she, poor child, died at Orkney on her way here.

     Our nation was left without a monarch. And thus started what became known as the Competition for the Crown. A host of far-out claimants rivaled each other: distant descendants of the royal line, including Bruce' grandfather, Balliol, Comyn and numerous others. Unwisely, as an impartial arbiter for their claims, they called in King Edward the First of England - who chose John Balliol, the weakest of the lot, and appointed himself as Lord Paramount of Scotland in consequence, a dire assumption then and, for centuries to come, our land's worst disaster. We all know what followed.

     So, if Alexander the Third had not rushed back to his Yolande that December night of 1286, aged only forty-four, there would have been no Wars of Independence, no need for the long campaigns of Wallace and Bruce, no Massacre of Berwick, no drama over the Stone of Destiny, no Declaration of Independence at Arbroath, and all the rest of that great and terrible turmoil. A thought to mull over . . . .