A Proud Taste for Scarlet and Miniver (13 page)

Queen Eleanor replied, “Our son had the head and heart of a king, Henry. Too bad you felt it necessary to keep a king’s parts wrapped in a prince’s jacket. He was bound to break out.”

“Perhaps so, madam. But now we must redistribute our realm. I have a plan.”

“I’m sure you do,” the queen answered.

“Richard is next in line for the throne,” King Henry began.

“Oh, yes, thank you for reminding me, Henry. I was wondering who came next. I was tempted to name our children in alphabetical order so that I would have less trouble remembering.”

“Enough of your sarcasm, madam. We have business. As I was saying, Richard is next in line. I want to give him Young Henry’s portion, Normandy, Anjou and England.”

“What about the Aquitaine, Henry? You are awfully quiet about what you want me to do with the Aquitaine.”

“Do you like your new gown, madam?”

“Yes. What about the Aquitaine?”

“Do you like the gold work on your new saddle, madam?”

“Yes. Will the Aquitaine move over one—to Geoffrey?”

“No. Geoffrey can keep Brittany. Do you like the embroidered pillows, madam?”

“Yes. What about the Aquitaine?”

“I’m glad you like your presents, madam. Now that you have brought up the matter of the Aquitaine, madam, I think I ought to tell you that I think we should give it to John.”

Queen Eleanor threw back her head and laughed. She roared. “Oh, oh. You’ll have to excuse me, Henry, but laughing is what I do instead of losing my temper. I see your plan. Richard is too strong for you. You’ll make him Young Henry’s heir, all title and no taxes. And you’ve pinned all your hopes on John Lackland. I thought you were a better judge of character than that. Shame on you. Richard will never consent to being a phantom king. He has a map of the Aquitaine tattooed in his head. His brain is shaped like its terrain. He cares not a fig for England; he does not even speak the language, and he boasts that he will never learn. You would do better to choose Geoffrey to be your paper king. Yes, Geoffrey is excellent material. He is competent but unimaginative.”

“That is enough, madam.”

“It is not. Are you blind? Do you not see what John is? You have allowed me no part in his upbringing, and I cannot see that you have done even an average job. You have seen to it that he has been raised without music; you have formed him of mucus and muscle. He either cries for what he wants, or he punches for it. Snot and sinew! There is no bone there to hang a crown on. I will never, never consent to giving the Aquitaine to John.”

“Have you quite finished, madam?”

“Yes, I have.”

“Well, then, madam, since you seem not to approve of any of our sons, I am taking back all of my lands.”

“Do that, Henry, and you will but cause another rebellion.”

“The third may be a charm, madam. Perhaps your sons will make it on their third try. But don’t hope for it, madam. It will cost you much.”

The queen stood up and said, “I shall not hope for it, Henry. I truly shall not.”

RICHARD
had learned much about rebellion during his years of squashing them in the Aquitaine. He had learned that success in war depends upon help. How many rebellions had he been able to put down just because the nobles foolishly thought that they could fight alone? So Richard wrote to two hundred discontented barons of his father’s; he asked for their support, and he got it. He also asked Philip Augustus, the new king of France, for his help, and he got that, too. The two young men, one already a king, and the other wanting to be one, led all the power of France into battle against King Henry.

King Henry was sick; an old leg wound had acted up. He was sick, and he felt old. He was tired. He lost castle after castle. He retreated from the battlefield to nurse his wound, to gather strength. The pain raced from his heel through his legs; he could not walk.

We lost one fortress after another. At last King Henry was summoned by Philip Augustus to parley for peace. King Henry cursed the pain and the fever as he mounted his horse to ride to the place they had agreed upon. The Capet saw how tired King Henry looked, and he offered him a cushion and a cloak on which to rest, but King Henry shook his head. “I have always parleyed astride my horse, and I shall do so even in defeat.”

The two kings drew up the terms of the settlement. King Henry had no choice but to agree to what Philip Augustus demanded. He made only one request—that Philip Augustus send him a list of all those barons who had shifted to Richard’s side. We were able to ride only a short distance from the place of parley, when King Henry collapsed and had to be carried the rest of the way to his castle at Chinon.

Until the list arrived, the king was full of curses and courage; he was determined to get well, to recover his lost castles, to get revenge. He despised defeat. He despised knowing that the first great defeat he had ever suffered had been the work of one of his sons.

When the list of traitors arrived, the king asked me to read the names to him. I unrolled the parchment and gasped. “Sire, may God help us.”

“What is the matter, Marshal?”

“The first name written is that of Count John.”

“My son, John Lackland? That same John whom I loved most? That same John for whom I fought this last hateful war?”

I nodded yes.

“Read no more, William,” he said. He turned his face to the wall and whispered, “Shame, shame. Shame on a conquered king.”

He spoke no more, my king. My one-time foe. My friend.

IT WAS
now Richard who bade me to cross the Channel to take news of death to the queen. But this time, there was good news, too. I was to set her free.

When I arrived, the queen was giving orders and was very much in charge.

“You know already, my lady?” I asked.

“Of course, I know. Come, William, there is much work to do.”

“I am retiring for a while, my queen.”

“Retiring, Marshal?”

“I am soon to be something more than a marshal. I am to marry the Duchess of Pembroke. We will live on her estates, and I shall manage them. I shall be an earl. I’ll be in Pembroke if you need me.”

“I don’t know if I shall need you, but Richard will. He is quite a boy, that Richard, that Lion Heart. But he has much to learn. Damn! He’s never even learned to speak English. The time he’s spent in England since his birth can be measured in weeks. There is much to do to make the people love him.”

“He is a direct descendant of King Henry, your husband, may his soul rest in peace. I know the people will accept him.”

“I did not say
accept
, William! I said
love.
I am determined that Richard shall be
loved.
An accepted king accomplishes nothing. A respected king accomplishes something but must fight for what he gets. A loved king has his people fighting for him. Richard will be loved, as I have made King Arthur loved.”

“He has a lot to recommend him, my lady. He is handsome. People are always receptive to a comely person. He is a good poet and a chivalrous knight.”

“How could any son reared by me in my court at Poitiers not be chivalrous?”

“But Richard is a great knight.”

“I see that you have changed sides again, William. Are you now Richard’s man?”

“What is strange about that, my lady? I have always been on the side of the Plantagenets.”

Queen Eleanor smiled. “Yes, William. You stand firm, and it is we Plantagenets who change partners.”

“That is exactly so, my lady. I did not find it difficult to become Richard’s man. He is a most chivalrous knight. When I was fighting with King Henry, your husband, may his soul rest in peace, in the battle at Le Mans, I fell behind King Henry, your husband, may his soul …”

“Get on with it, William. His soul may rest in peace, but my behind will not. Tell your story straight.”

“Yes, my queen. The city of Le Mans was in flames, and I had stopped to help an old lady whose clothing had caught fire. My training as a true and noble knight would not allow me to pass so sad a sight without offering my help.”

“Certainly, William.”

“Yes. Well, Richard came upon me, and I aimed my lance at him. ‘Do not kill me, Marshal,’ he said. ‘You cannot kill an unarmed man.’ And the truth was that Richard wore no armor. The code of chivalry commands that one not fight an unarmed man, so I said, ‘May the Devil take you, for I will not.’ I then plunged my lance into his horse, for I wanted my king, Henry, your husband, may his …”

“William!”

“Yes, my queen. Sorry. I wanted King Henry to be able to escape, and he did. When next I saw Richard, it was at his father’s grave. Richard looked at me and said, ‘William the Marshal, you tried to kill me the other day.’ ‘No, sire,’ I replied. ‘I tried to kill your horse, and I did. I could have thrust my lance in you as easily as I did in your horse. I chose your horse. I cannot believe that I have done wrong.’ Richard said, ‘I forgive you. I shall not hold it against you.’ So you see, my lady, he has forgiveness, and forgiveness is a mark of greatness.”

“That may be, William,” Queen Eleanor said, “but I must make that mark grow. I am going on a good-will tour, William. I am going to travel to every shire in England and listen to the people. You see, it is always the incidental inconvenience that upsets the common man. I am going to right some incidental wrongs. And that is the first thing that I am going to do to make Richard the Lion Heart a great king. The English will claim him for theirs, and they will love him, even if he can’t speak their language. He ought to learn it though, William. English is a strong language. It has a great assortment of four-lettered words.”

ELEANOR SMILED
at William the Marshal, at Matilda-Empress and at Abbot Suger. “I was sixty-seven when I was let out of prison. I believe that my real life began then. I had used that time. I had lost two husbands and two sons before I was released, for Geoffrey had died, too, of the fever that plagued the Plantagenets. Yet for all those losses, I felt that I had gained something while I was there.”

“What could you have gained in prison?”

“Understanding,” Eleanor answered. “Understanding freedom for one thing. It looks even brighter when viewed from its dark side. As a matter of fact, when I arrived Up, and I was asked what age I wanted to be, I answered
sixty-seven
without a moment’s hesitation. And I answered, knowing that I would be sixty-seven for all Eternity. I could have chosen twenty-five when I was fresh and comely in Constantinople, and I could have chosen thirty when I was madly in love with Henry, but I chose sixty-seven. For I wanted all those years, even the years in prison, with me in Heaven.”

Matilda-Empress said, “One thing you never learned in prison was to slow down your tongue.”

“But something has softened it,” Abbot Suger commented.

“Don’t defend me, dear Suger,” Eleanor said, laughing. “Move over, all of you. It’s time I told about myself. From this point on, no one can speak for me. Being in prison is like looking at life inside out. You learn to know its fabric and its seams. After I was released from prison, I learned what it means to be a queen.”

“I never knew you to have any doubts about that,” Matilda-Empress said.

“Then say that I learned not
to know
but
to understand”

“Excuse me for interrupting, Queen Eleanor, but it is soon the time for King Henry’s verdict.”

“The noble knight still does not forget a purpose.” She looked over the three of them and laughed. “All right. All of you are more interested in the gossip of my life than in its spirit. Even you, Abbot. Now, listen while I take you rapidly through the last fifteen years of my life. Listen, all of you, while I push you into the thirteenth century.”

I TRAVELED
throughout England after Henry’s death, and as I did, I made friends. For one thing, I relieved the monks of the chore of keeping Henry’s horses. Henry had demanded that he have fresh relays of horses throughout his territories, and he had forced the abbeys to maintain his stables. They resented that; I excused them from the responsibility, and I did so in Richard’s name; that made the monks very happy.