Outlaw King

I promise to be faithful and loyal to Edward, King of England,

to never again bear arms against him or his... heirs.

So help me God.

Stay there.

Sir Robert, your father is an old and valued friend,

a great warrior who saved my life in the Holy Land.

You fought well for eight years, but not always on the right side.

I welcome your renewed fealty, and accept your submission.

-Is that all? - Yes, Sire.

Good.

My lords of Scotland, today you have each pledged fealty to me

as your rightful overlord.

Any lands confiscated during this conflict will now be returned to you.

-See? That wasn't so bad. - I hope you see the futility

of your years of opposition, and accept responsibility

for the bloodshed that could have been avoided.

Lord John Comyn, Lord Robert Bruce...

Step forward.

I understand both your families have a strong claim on the Scottish crown.

However, neither can be favored. Therefore,

England will continue to govern your province and receive its due in taxes.

-Our viceroy, Sir Aymer de Valence... -Sire.

...will lead a new council of Scottish administration.

You both will be proud to serve under him,

and you will take that opportunity,

if you are wise, to heal the differences between you.

Offer your hands.

Now let us be what we once were...

-friends! -

Music! Drink! Feast!

- Rob! - Your Majesty...

a memorable day, Sire.

Robert!

That must have been painful for you.

I'm sure I've had worse, Your Highness.

Do you remember our summers at Westminster, when I was a little boy?

Our footraces, dueling with wooden swords.

You were always so good at everything.

That was just because I was older than you.

What would you say to a duel right now?

Like old times?

-And break my oath already? -

The order was to come unarmed, Your Highness.

Quiet.

Let's say five pounds to whomever wins leverage.

Let's make it ten.

I heard you'd developed a taste for wagering.

Piers, fetch him a sword.

It's unfortunate you had some sentimental notion

of fighting for the people. It's understandable.

Whoa!

- Not a good start, Bruce. - Watch yourself, brother.

Endearing, even.

I just wanted to win.

So...

William Wallace...

the last rebel standing.

- - Well done!

- Prick. -How much have you had to drink?

Not nearly enough.

Keep the head, Robert.

They say he lives in Selkirk Forest.

Some consider him a martyr...

others, a madman.

What do you think?

I think he is a man

who loves his country more than his life.

Diplomatically put.

- -All right, fortunately,

you Scottish nobles don’t share that passion.

- -Or we’d have to kill you all.

James Douglas, stop!

Your Majesty!

"Your Majesty!" What is it?

Your father, he wishes to see you at once.

Shut up, you sniveling fool!

- You're late. - You know how much this means to me.

Please, for once use your brain. Stay there.

-Thank you, Bishop. -I'll see what I can do.

You're the one who was up all night, clutching your chamber pot!

What the hell are you doing?

You have responsibilities. We've had petitioners.

Sit down!

When are you gonna grow up?

Robert insisted we wager on swords. And I have grown up.

You just don’t like me very much.

Pardon me, Sire.

There is one last petitioner.

James Douglas.

Douglas?

Your Majesty, I am the son of Sir William Douglas,

who died a prisoner in the Tower of London.

Your father was a treacherous rebel.

Our lands were seized and gifted to Sir Richard de Clifford.

-Traitors forfeit their lands. -That land, Sire, is my birthright.

-You heard my father. Get out. -You have balls, I'll give you that.

Get out of here,

before I have them removed.

Royal decree: I never want to hear the name Douglas again.

I know this young man. I baptized him.

Pardon me, Sire, for his insolence.

Go!

-Do not push your luck today! - He can't do that!

He slandered my name.

That's how you pass a camel through the eye of a needle.

Sire, ready.

Good.

Come! Rob, I have something to show you.

Friends, join us.

We have a spectacle.

Has there not been enough humiliation?

Lord Oliphant tried to surrender two days ago.

Edward refused to accept.

Wants to be certain we get the message.

Robert.

Everyone needs to understand that this surrender is final.

Light the Greek fire.

Also, it took three months to build, so I don't want to waste it.

My lords...

and ladies...

I give you...

the War Wolf.

Now you can accept the surrender.

Yes, Sire.

Congratulations, my lords. Today, you're on the winning side.

I'm proud of you, Robert.

You had the courage to stand up to me,

and the wisdom to stand down.

Well done for bringing your son round, Rob.

Sir Roger de Mowbray, fierce steward of the north,

vanquisher of Stirling! Our thanks!

-Finally, Sir Richard de Burgh, -

valiant marshal, loyal servant of the Crown.

Your Grace.

We give the hand of your daughter, Elizabeth,

my god-daughter, to Sir Robert de Brus.

And may this pairing symbolize the harmonious union of our two countries.

The fathers may kiss.

You’ve mourned her long enough, Robert.

Edward’s intentions were well-meant.

The important thing is we are favored.

This council with Valence...

is a mere formality.

Edward will offer us the crown.

He all but promised me.

You’d be a lackey.

Yes...

if it meant me being king.

And after me, you.

King Robert.

Sadly, the choice was to submit or be hounded to death. It's that simple.

-And you trust Edward's peace, Angus? -I didn't say I trusted him.

What is peace with a sword to the throat? I say we fight--

We swore an oath, Alexander, to God.

If we break it, we'll have no honor left.

So we do nothing, Euan? And live like cowards?

-That's not what I meant-- - Enough!

Father...

made the decision.

It is ours to bear.

His family has vast lands north and south to the border.

You could do a lot worse.

What happened to his first wife?

She died giving birth to his daughter.

Do I have to call her Mother?

No.

I wonder if she’ll like Jessie.

Well, she’d better!

- -

Are you ready?

I hear this one's got two legs for a change.

-Heard she smells like Jessie, too. -Quiet!

Hairy old thing.

- Robert. -Your Highness.

My father sends his best.

And you know Bishop Lamberton, of course.

-Bishop. -Congratulations, Lord Bruce.

My lord.

My lord, my daughter Elizabeth.

My lady.

My lord.

Welcome.

And you must be Marjorie?

- -And who’s this handsome fellow?

Our dog, Jessie, my lady.

Call me Elizabeth.

-Elizabeth? -Mm-hmm.

My lord, your new estates in Ireland,

from which you will now gather rents.

Most kind, my lord.

-What do you think you're doing? -Lord Bruce bid us celebrate in here.

Get back in the kitchen.

Are you enjoying yourself?

Trying to.

Are you?

I'm...