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Authors: Jean Plaidy

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BOOK: The Heart of the Lion
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What could she do in her apartments which were in fact a prison, for she was not allowed to leave them without an escort? She could only think over the past and wonder what the future held.

As a young daughter of the family – only John was younger – she had not seemed of any great account until her marriage. Born in Angers she had been brought up in Fontevraud but there had been a time when she had been in England. She could remember the Princess Alice’s being in the nurseries with her and her brother John. Alice had seemed a good deal older than she and John were but it could only have been a few years. What scandal there had been later concerning Alice! She could remember her father’s visiting the nursery and how she and John had been a little jealous of the attention he gave to Alice. And what now he was dead? Would Richard marry her? It seemed hardly likely. Alice’s situation, she reflected, was no more pleasant than her own.

What are we, the princesses of royal houses? she thought bitterly. Nothing but counters in a game. If it suits the country’s politics we are married – wherever the most advantage is to be found, no matter what bridegroom we must take.

She herself had been fairly fortunate with her husband although the marriage almost did not take place. William had been a good husband, ten years her senior, but that was not such a bad thing as she had been only eleven years old when his emissaries had come to take her to Sicily.

The betrothal had previously been set aside as William who had been at this time seventeen did not want to wait for a child of seven and he had hoped to marry a daughter of the eastern emperor, Manuel Comnenus. This scheme did not come to fruition and in due course William had sent his ambassadors to England to inspect the little Princess Joanna.

This was the time when she had been brought to Winchester and shared a schoolroom with her brother John and Princess Alice, Richard’s betrothed. She would never forget her father’s coming to the schoolroom and there telling her that some very important noblemen had arrived from Sicily with the express purpose of seeing her. He had told her that she must conduct herself with decorum, for what these gentlemen thought of her could have a great effect not only on her future but on his.

She had stood before them and answered their questions and she knew that she had done well, for her father had laid his hand on her shoulder and pressed it affectionately and she had heard one of the men exclaim: ‘But her beauty is outstanding. The King of Sicily will be pleased exceedingly.’ Back in the nursery she had told a curious John and Alice what had taken place.

‘Oh,’ had said the knowledgeable Alice, ‘it is a betrothal.’

She had told them that the King of Sicily would be exceedingly pleased.

‘It is because you are pretty,’ Alice had explained.

‘Richard must have been exceedingly pleased with you,’ Joanna had said.

‘Like our father is,’ John had added, at which beautiful Alice had blushed deeply.

‘She’s prettier than ever pink,’ John had commented.

And now Joanna knew what the blush had implied.

We are surrounded by intrigue from our cradles, she thought.

And so she had come to Sicily when she was a girl of eleven. When she had landed in Normandy she had been met by her eldest brother, Henry. King Henry he had called himself because he was so proud of the fact that their father had allowed him to be crowned. He was so handsome and charming that she loved him and was proud to have such a brother. He was also kind, gentle and full of fun. He wanted her to remember the time she spent with him. When they stopped at various castles on the way he would organise entertainments for her, and there had been tournaments where she could see him joust. He used to say: ‘I’m going into this for you. You are my lady – my little sister Joanna.’ Oh yes, Henry had had great charm. He was quite different from his namesake their father. Yet she knew now that he had been weak, that the charm had been superficial; that he had lied to his father and grieved him sorely. But to the young Joanna he had seemed perfect. How sad it was that childhood illusions must be shattered! She had wept bitterly when he had died and had prayed constantly for his soul. She feared it might be in torment for his going had been violent. He had betrayed his father; he had desecrated monasteries and robbed them of their treasures in order to pay his soldiers for his wars against his father. It was a sorry story and how far she had been from guessing its climax during those golden days when he had entertained her on the journey across Normandy and had done his best to make her forget she was going to a stranger husband in a strange new land!

He had conducted her to the borders of Aquitaine where another brother was waiting for her. She had thought that never could a princess have had two such wonderful brothers. If Henry had been the most handsome man she had ever seen, Richard was the most distinguished. She had thought this must be how the gods looked when they came down from Olympus. He too was tall, his hair fair and shining, and he looked noble and invincible.

He was not as warm and friendly as Henry had been, but he gave her a greater sense of comfort. He implied that while he was with her it was quite impossible for any harm to befall her.

Down to the coast she had ridden with this godlike brother beside her and at St Gilles her bridegroom’s Sicilian fleet had been waiting for her.

She had taken a tender farewell of Richard but she did not weep. She felt that Richard would have despised tears. It would have been different with Henry. They would have wept together; she had wondered when she would see her brothers again and was very sad until rocked on that angry sea she was too sick to think of anything but her own misery and the desirability of death. So ill was she that the captain of her vessel had decided that they could not continue the journey and they had come ashore at Naples. By then it was Christmas time. Her attendants and the sailors had been entertained there and they did their best to make it a merry time and afterwards they had travelled by land across Calabria so that the only sea she must traverse was the strait of Messina.

This had been a good sign, showing as it did that her new husband was eager for her comfort and she was already grateful to him before she saw him.

And when he saw
her
he smiled with pleasure. He had heard reports of her good looks, but it was said that all princesses were good looking when they were marriageable – at least so those who were eager to promote the union always averred. Occasionally they were true and so afforded a very pleasant surprise to their bridegrooms. This was what had happened in her case and William had been delighted with his bride. So were the Sicilians.

She would never forget coming ashore. Mercifully she had not been ill and was fresh and beautiful on that first meeting. William could not stop himself looking at her. He stroked her hair and kissed her hands. She was enchanting, he said.

She was young – twelve years old – but that was not too young for marriage and he had been eager for the ceremony to take place without delay. Her father would expect it, he told her.

She was given attendants who combed her long hair and petted her; and each day there were costly gifts from her bridegroom. She had felt cherished from the moment she set foot on Sicilian soil and some two weeks after her arrival, the Archbishop of Palermo officiating at the ceremony, she and William were married.

It was pleasant to look back on those days. He had been kind and tender and she knew now that it could so easily have been otherwise. It was true that she had brought with her a fine dowry which included a golden table twelve feet long which was very valuable, a silken tent and a hundred very fine galleys, enough corn that would need sixty thousand mules to carry it and the same quantity of barley and wine. There had also been twenty gold cups and twenty-four plates of the same precious metal. It was advantageous for a King of Sicily to be linked by marriage with the King of England, but even so William might not have been such a tender doting husband, and she had been fortunate.

So she had learned to love Sicily and had thought herself the most fortunate of queens when she gave birth to her son whom she called Bohemond. Alas, Bohemond had delighted her life only briefly and to the sorrow of his parents and the whole of Sicily he died soon after his birth. But perhaps not to the sorrow of all. There was Tancred.

Tancred! He was the source of her troubles. But for Tancred she would not now be kept in restraint. Tancred had appeared at court when William was alive. He had constantly sought to distinguish himself, being clearly piqued by the fact that he was a bastard. William, easy going and a little sorry for him, had always made him welcome but Joanna had believed that his ambition was dangerous.

As William was but in his thirties and appeared to be healthy Tancred’s ambitions must have been dormant for some years, and the fact that little Bohemond had died did not mean that Joanna and William would not have more heirs. Joanna had proved that she could have sons and the fact that the first one had not survived was no indication that there would not be others. But when the baby died it was a fact that the only male heir to the Sicilian throne was Tancred, bastard though he was.

William’s sister Constancia was married to Henry of Germany, eldest son of the Emperor Frederic known as Barbarossa, and should William die without male heirs it was logical to suppose that Constancia would inherit Sicily. When William had known he was dying he had asked Joanna to come to his bedside that he might talk with her. He was deeply concerned for her. Before he had known that death was close he had made provision that in the event of his death, and Joanna’s being left a childless widow, her dowry was to be returned to her father that it might be used again to provide her with another husband. William, like most of the noblemen of his age had had dreams of joining a crusade, such an undertaking promising not only exciting adventures and rich spoil but at the same time remission of past sins, and he had been amassing treasure which would provide the means of financing such an expedition. He had decreed that if he should be unable to go these funds were to be given to the King of England to be used for his crusade.

King Henry had died in July, and it was August before the news reached Sicily. By that time William was sick.

He was comforted by the presence of Joanna whom he had loved dearly, but he was even more anxious for her welfare now that her father was dead.

‘I thank God that you have a strong brother who will protect you,’ he said. ‘If our son had lived it would have been your duty to stay here and bring him up as King. But alas our little Bohemond was not destined for such a role. The true heir is my sister Constancia. Sicily will be well governed through her and her husband and one of her sons will in due course be King of Sicily. That is taken care of. But it is your future which concerns me.’

She bade him cease to fret. ‘My father is dead, but my brother Richard is now King of England,’ she reminded him. ‘I know that he will care for me. I shall never forget how he looked after me when I arrived in Aquitaine on my way here. There is something invincible about him. I beg of you do not think of me. Prepare yourself. You have been a good husband to me, William.’

He could not bear her to leave his side and she was with him at the end. Then she went to her apartments to brood on her loss.

She had been amazed when Tancred came to her. Scarcely before William was cold, he had taken his place. Sicily needed a strong man he declared, and he was that man. He was of royal blood. It was inconceivable that the crown should go to the wife of the German Emperor when he, Tancred, was here on the spot.

She had protested indignantly. ‘It was not William’s wish that it should go to you,’ she cried.

‘William’s wishes, he being dead, are no longer of moment.’

‘That’s where you are wrong,’ cried Joanna.

‘Nay,’ said Tancred. ‘You will see that I am right.’

‘Do you think the Emperor Henry will allow you to snatch the crown from Constancia?’ she demanded.

‘Henry is far away. I am on the spot. You are to go back to England and it is in truth no concern of yours.’

‘William’s wishes are my concern.’

‘What mean you?’

‘That I cannot stand by and see you usurp the throne.’

His face was dull red. He was furiously angry with her. This was another slur on his birth. If he had been legitimate would there have been this question about his inheritance? Of course there would not. He was going to show them that bastard or not, he was a king. The finest example of a bastard’s greatness was William the First of England who was known as the Conqueror.

‘What will you do to prevent me, Madam?’ he had asked.

‘Anything in my power.’

Angrily he had left her, asking himself what she could do. She was powerless. She was merely William’s widow who had failed to give him a son. Yet, she would have the people’s sympathy as the grieving widow determined to carry out her husband’s wishes. He did not want her rousing the people against him.

Soon after he had left her the guards appeared to tell her she had been put under arrest. And thus she had remained through the winter. From the windows of her prison she had watched the spring and summer come to Palermo.

‘How long will it last?’ she had constantly asked.

It was one day in late summer when one of her attendants came to her in a state of great excitement.

‘Good news,’ she said. ‘I had it from one of the serving men who had it from a messenger who had come from afar. The King of England is setting out on a crusade to the Holy Land. The King of France is to accompany him. They are bringing their fleets to Messina and will sail from there to Acre.’

‘My brother coming to Sicily!’

‘Think not, my lady, that Richard King of England will allow you to remain Tancred’s prisoner.’

‘Nay,’ she cried. ‘He never will.’

‘Great events are afoot, my lady.’

Joanna nodded slowly. Yes indeed, she was certain of it. Great events were afoot.

BOOK: The Heart of the Lion
13.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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