I Serve (30 page)

John of Valois found this offer unsatisfactory. The English claim to the crown, he contended, was a thing built of smoke and air, while the French possessions in Guienne were as tangible as earth and water. He would make no concessions of territory, and so conference continued on at a deadlock.

Edward, seeing that John was not to be moved by diplomacy, turned his energies to intrigue. He dispatched Henry, the Duke of Lancaster to discover dissension within the French court, or if finding none, to plant the seeds of it himself. If a man seeks a Ganelon, he will not have far to look; rogues like those are bred in every country. Lancaster was quick to see the troubled countenance of the king’s son-in-law, Charles of Navarre, and inquired discreetly as to the cause of his troubles.

Navarre, as you must know, is a small country about the size of Gascony. It is wedged tightly between Gascony and Castile, but its ties are more French than Spanish. In the days of Philip the Fair, Navarre had been without a king and therefore under the sway of the French scepter. But when the Fair Philip’s sons died without male issue, Navarre declared itself independent. Having no royal line of their own, the Navarrese selected one of Philip’s granddaughters to be their ruler, and when she breathed her last, the throne descended to her son Charles, that Charles of Navarre in whom Lancaster was so keenly interested.

Charles of Navarre, by right of his mother, was in nearly the same position as good King Edward of England. If inheritance through a female was acceptable, he was closer to the French throne than Philip of Valois. Unlike Edward, however, Charles of Navarre allowed the Valois seizure of power without any initial protest. Indeed, he was still in the womb when his parents acceded to the Valois claim. His infant bands in the following year made himmore likely to cry for mother’s milk than for misappropriated monarchy.

Charles was a year or two younger than the prince; when he came of age in the year 1350, he found himself master of not only Navarre, but also a generous part of Normandy. The Contenin, where we had landed four years earlier, had been bestowed on Charles’ mother by the house of Valois as a thank offering for the repudiation of her rights to the crown. King John had succeeded his father Philip at about the time that Charles had assumed the Navarrese crown. He was at first anxious to keep friends with the young man. He united him to the house of Valois by giving him his eight-year-old daughter as wife and made him his lieutenant in southern France.

In a year’s time, however, the novelty of Navarre’s young king wore off and the French king became less assiduous in his attentions. King John omitted to pay the installations of the dowry that were due to Charles on account of his marriage. King John refused to bestow the County of Angouleme on Charles even though it had belonged to his mother in previous days. And King John forbore to advance Charles any further, turning his attention to a new favorite, Don Carlos de la Cerda.

Don Carlos, as you may remember, was the Castilian admiral whom we had defeated off the coast of Winchelsea just a year previous. In his youth, Don Carlos had spent much time at the French court, and in the Castilian dalliance with France, Don Carlos often played the role of ambassador. King John enjoyed the Spaniard’s company and decided to reward him by making him a peer of the French realm. In a move of either extreme thoughtlessness or extreme provocation, King John bestowed upon Don Carlos the title of Constable of France and gave him the counties of Champagne, Brie, and Angouleme.

Charles of Navarre was outraged. Not only had Don Carlos received the highest title in the realm of France, but he had also taken possession of Angouleme, the county that belonged to Charles by right of his mother. This piqued not only Charles but also his retainers and immediate relatives. Don Carlos irritated them like a stone in the shoe, Don Carlos embarrassed them like a wooden collar about the neck, and Don Carlos angered them like a slap across the face.

It was Christmas of 1352 when the literal slap across the face occurred. King John was celebrating Christmas in Paris with his court. Charles de Navarre was not present, no doubt enduring a self-imposed banishment on account of his grievances. His brother Philip of Navarre was there, however, and also the new Constable of France—Don Carlos de la Cerda. As the Christmas feast was celebrated, the sixteen-year-old Philip of Navarre began to boast of his family’s accomplishments and to belittle the Castilian admiral with every insolence and incivility that he could muster. Don Carlos, ten years older than this Navarrese pup but still young enough to feel the heat of blood, could stand no more of his impudence. Rising wrathfully, he gave the boy the lie in front of the assembled court. Philip drew his dagger. Don Carlos drew his. In a moment they would have been upon each other, but the king intervened and there was thunder in his brow.

“
Enough, enough! I will have you be friends!” cried King John.

Philip of Navarre spat upon the floor. “Nay, you shall have us as friends when this one is dead.” He turned on his heel to leave the court.

“
You behave like
un
enfant
!” said Don Carlos scornfully.

“
Do I?” said Philip, casting a backward glance before he reached the door. “
Un
enfant
is more dangerous than you know. Let the Constable be on his guard against
des enfants de Navarre
.”

It was no idle warning. On the feast of epiphany just twelve days later, Don Carlos was passing the night in a small inn at l’Aigle in Normandy. Charles of Navarre had spies everywhere. Cognizant of the Constable’s presence, he entered the town the same night, bringing with him his brother Philip and a band of Norman nobles and knights. Charles’ men waited till daybreak before they approached the inn. Then, forcing their way into the Constable’s bedroom, they drew their daggers and gave him eighty wounds, most of them mortal.

Charles of Navarre, who had remained behind while his brother and his barons completed the butchery, busily drafted a letter to the Parliament of King John. “We beg leave to tell you that we have put Don Carlos of Spain to death. If the king is troubled by this, we are very sorry. Yet we feel that he ought to be greatly pleased by the matter when he thinks it over.”

King John spent much time thinking over the murder, but his musings did not result in the pleasure that Navarre anticipated. For four days he kept to his room and would say nothing, and then on the fifth day he swore a mighty oath that he would never wear a light heart again until he was revenged upon his son-in-law. He prepared to attack the territory of Charles of Navarre.

It was with this Charles then, now surnamed Charles the Wicked, that Henry of Lancaster was resolved to intrigue. Even before the murder, Lancaster had apprized Charles of England’s willingness to enter into a compact with him. Now, Charles sent word to Lancaster and offered him his unreserved support. Beyond this, the Navarrese knave wrote a letter to Edward himself, urging him to put the English forces in Brittany at his disposal. Allied with Navarre’s Norman nobles, they could do such hurt to King John as from which he would not speedily recover. Edward, eager to renew the struggle with France, readily agreed with these proposals. He placed his troops at readiness and waited for the word from Navarre.

King John, however, was not eager to tangle with both Charles and Edward at once. Hearing word of the compact between the two, he humbled himself before his son-in-law. He promised the murderers of de la Cerda full pardon, he bestowed on Charles all the baronies that he wished, and he swore that he would never do him harm for the sake of the Constable’s death.

Charles, having held the threat of England over King John’s head like a cudgel, promptly dropped the cudgel when it was no longer needed. Now that his goal was accomplished, he cancelled the pending plans of attack. Frustrated, Lancaster reminded him of their agreement. Where were the Norman nobles?

Charles, instead of renouncing the accord altogether, gave Lancaster some hope that it was only delayed. Who knows how long the peace with King John would last? Lancaster grudgingly agreed to be patient. Those who treat with a traitor will often be tricked themselves.

*****

While Edward and Lancaster continued their attempts to manufacture war with France, the prince kept me as busy as I would have been on a campaign. Christmas came quickly on the heels of the Spanish defeat at Winchelsea, and after that I bid farewell to Sir Geoffroi de Charny. His ransom had been set at twenty thousand crowns, the very price which he had sought to pay Aimery for the betrayal of Calais. The prince thought it unlikely that such a sum would ever be raised for the return of one knight. As you well know, the French country was in disarray, the plague had been replaced by famine, and Charles of Navarre had begun his machinations against the monarchy. That the sum of twenty thousand crowns was raised—most of it by King John himself—is a testimony of the high value which Charny’s countrymen set upon him.

You must understand that I did not receive the whole of the ransom. No, soon after our return from Calais to England, the prince my master had redeemed Charny from me. He generously gave me a few thousand crowns as recompense for my service, and so it was that I became a man of means long before Charny’s ransom had actually arrived.

The prince, though his devotion to Charny nowhere neared the level to which mine had risen, had become fond of your husband in his own way. The night before Charny’s return to France, the prince threw a marvelous banquet replete with peacocks, pastries, and the best of Bordeaux wine. Charny, as usual, wore his simple green tunic, and I saw that little had changed for him since his arrival in England.

“
Highness,” said Charny, after thanking him for his kind attentions over the past year. “Some time ago you challenged me to use ink and vellum and set down in words what it means to be a knight.”

“
And have you done so?” said the prince, recalling the conversation that they had had aboard ship at Winchelsea.

“
It is not finished,” said Charny, “but it is begun, and God be willing, I shall finish it at last when I have reached my own land.” He pulled out a sheaf of papers from the breast of his tunic and handed it to the prince to peruse.

“
What subjects do you treat of here?” asked the prince leafing gently through the unbound papers.

“
Why, I begin with the different deeds which a man-at-arms may do, commencing with the least honorable and proceeding on to the most honorable, then I defend knighthood as a worthy occupation in the service of God.”

The prince handed back the sheaf of papers with a smile. “You should have given this book to Potenhale two years ago—he had great need of that defense.”

I blushed, for I had never told the prince the part that Charny had played in my change of mind.

“
But, tell me,” the prince continued. “Do you treat of those who have gone before?”

“
Aye,” said Charny, “I speak of many worthy knights in my book.”

“
Ah,” said the prince. “And who, do you say, was the worthiest of all knights?”

“
Judas Maccabeus,” replied Charny without hesitation.

“
Wherefore?”

“
Because in him alone could be found all the good qualities of a true knight. He was wise in all his deeds. He was a man of worth who led a holy life. He was strong, skillful, and unrelenting in effort and endurance.”

“
Is that all?” asked the prince.

“
Nay!” said Charny, waxing enthusiastic upon the subject. “He was handsome above all others, but without arrogance. He was full of prowess, bold, valiant, taking part in the finest, greatest, and fiercest battles and most perilous adventures that there ever were. And in the end, he died in a holy way in battle like a saint in Paradise.”

“
I daresay that the Romans he fought against were worthy knights as well,” replied the prince archly.

“
Not truly, said Charny with warmth in his tone, “for they did not conduct themselves with true belief, trust, and hope in Our Lord. And besides, they fought to oppress a land that was not their own.”

“
So,” said the prince slowly, and I was minded of the deliberate way in which his father would frame questions. “Are you saying that it is unworthy of a knight to fight for a land that he does not hold? That the only worthy knight is a knight who fights to protect his homeland?”

Charny smiled enigmatically, but I saw that he grasped the crux of the prince’s question. “Nay, highness,” he said. “A knight may make war to defend his own rights or the rights of his lawful master.”

“
Then why should you fault these Roman knights, who fought only to maintain the rights of their emperor against Maccabeus? In truth, there is no reason to say that the Romans were any less peerless than the Jewish knights.”

I listened to the skillful interplay of their conversation and saw that we were no longer talking about the ancient province of Judea.

“
Ah,” said Charny, “but the rights of your Roman emperor must be examined. Did he indeed have just claim to the land, or was he merely a usurper, attempting to take by force what was not rightfully his?”

“
The story is so old,” said the prince, “that it is hard to winnow out the grains of truth. But for the sake of our discussion, let us suppose that the emperor was descended from the old king of that country, and that the Maccabees were from another line entirely. Yet because the emperor was far away and Judas Maccabeus near, he presumed to take the crown for himself. Are not the emperor and his knights, justified in invading that land and plucking the crown from the usurper’s head?”