The Prince of Darkness (26 page)

‘The young Duke is well, I trust,’ said William.

‘The would-be-King has become a frightened little boy.’

‘Poor child,’ said William. ‘I have come for your permission to take over the care of him.’

John raised his eyebrows. ‘He is well cared for. You need have no qualms in that respect.’

‘I am glad of it. I understand he is at Falaise with de Braose.’

‘A good man, de Braose,’ said John, ‘and one I would always trust. He was a good friend to my brother and has been to me. He likes to profit from his service, but what matters that if his profit is mine also?’

‘I am prepared to ride to Falaise without delay.’

‘There’ll be no need, my dear fellow.’

‘Sir, I consider there is every need. You have forgotten our pact. I made the peace between you and Arthur; I have fought for you and you’ll remember my reward was to be that I was to have the charge of Arthur.’

‘Reward!’ cried John. ‘Men do not generally ask about their rewards when serving me.’

‘They think of them none the less, I dare swear,’ said des Roches boldly.

Warning lights were shining in John’s eyes. William des Roches was aware of them, but important enough he believed to ignore them.

‘They are too courteous … or perhaps too fearful … to mention them,’ said John meaningfully.

‘Then perhaps I should be the same,’ said des Roches.

‘You were always a clever fellow, William. You ever knew which side to jump before it was too late.’

‘Thank you, my lord, for that compliment.’

‘You are welcome to it.’ John nodded to imply he was tired of the subject and William des Roches took the opportunity to retire.

‘Be careful,’ warned John as William left. ‘Mind which way you jump.’

He had misjudged des Roches, who was in a position to do a great deal of harm and he was determined to do it.

That day he deserted John and without delay formed a league of the lords of Brittany, marched into action and took certain castles, thus cutting off John’s means of communication to the south.

The rot had set in. The success of Mirebeau was seen to be trivial. With the French King ready to seize any opportunity,
with the Lusignans raring to avenge the insult on the head of their house in addition to the abduction of Isabella, and with all those who hated John – and they were numerous – waiting for the moment to come when they could successfully rise against him, John’s hold on his Continental territories was growing weaker every day.

He could not see it, for he was still revelling in his marriage, which after a brief separation seemed like a new beginning to him.

His supporters began to be anxious. It was as though Isabella’s beauty and allurements had been bestowed on her by the devil, who was determined on John’s destruction, for when he rose from his bed – late in the day – he would be languid after the night’s performance and disinclined for anything but to wait for the night to come again.

Isabella thought often of Hugh in his dungeons and wondered whether he ever thought of her. It was not her fault; she did hope he understood that. She had had no say in the matter. Her parents and the King had decided for her.

She shivered with horror when rumours reached her of what had happened to the prisoners of Corfe Castle. They were all dead, for food supplies had been cut off from them and they were left to starve to death in the dungeons.

People were whispering that this was not the way to treat honourable prisoners who had merely followed a leader and been loyal to him.

They had revolted and tried to escape and it was then that John had given the cruel order: ‘Let them starve. That will teach them to rise against me.’

She would lie in their bed and think of the terrible things that were happening all around them and how powerful John was and how terrible in anger. He was never angry with her although there had been occasions when he was on the verge of it. She used to wonder what would happen if she ever took a lover. She had to admit that she would have liked to. Such was her nature that she could never see a handsome man without picturing him as a lover. Sometimes she would see one of them looking at her and some sort of understanding would flash between them. It would be so easy – a moment’s temptation and they might succumb to it. And what if John discovered?

What would he do? In her wilder moments she sometimes thought she was so eager to know that she would run the risk to find out. That would be folly, she realised on those occasions when she saw his temper.

She wondered about him. The same thoughts must occur to him.

He was getting anxious now because there was whispering among his knights. William des Roches had not only deserted him but was raising forces against him. So powerful was the man that the complacent mood following Mirebeau had to change, even for John. He had to see what was happening, for he knew that at any moment Philip could be expected to take advantage of the situation.

John was at last persuaded that he must leave Isabella for a few days and see what was happening in his dominions. He reluctantly agreed to do this and sent Isabella to Chinon.

His enemies, who had laughed at his obsession with his wife which exceeded that for his country, decided this was too good
an opportunity to miss. What if they captured Isabella? What could they demand from John for her release?

Thus when Isabella was coming into Chinon she heard that a party of rebel barons were waiting to take her prisoner. The news was carried to John at the same time. He was frantic. She must be brought to him at once; never again would he allow her to go from his side.

He was advised against going to her rescue, for it seemed that it might well have been a trap to capture him. Instead, a strong band of his mercenaries rode with all speed to Chinon and on the road encountered Isabella in flight.

They brought her back to John.

He wept with relief when he saw her, picking her up in his arms and carrying her to their bedchamber.

She laughed at his fears.

‘What if they had taken me?’ she said. ‘What would you have done then?’

‘I would not have rested until I had brought you back where you belong.’

‘What of your country, John? They say that is in danger of being taken from you.’

‘They say!’ he cried. ‘None would dare! In any case I’d soon have it back.’

‘You are losing much.’

‘I’ll get it back.’

‘When?’

‘In my own good time.’

‘When will that be?’

‘When you don’t distract me from all else.’

‘Do you think that will ever come about?’

‘It could,’ he admitted. ‘But not yet.’

‘You are unsure of me,’ she said.

‘I deny that. You want me as much as I want you. I am as important to you as you are to me.’

‘Yes, ’tis true, but you show you don’t feel that.’

‘How so?’

‘Well, your attitude towards Hugh the Brown, for one thing.’

‘I do not understand.’

‘He is in chains, is he not?’

‘Yes, where he deserves to be.’

‘You keep him prisoner as you keep Arthur prisoner. You have reason to fear Arthur. What reason have you to fear Hugh?’

‘
Fear
Hugh!’

‘Well, you keep him in chains. Do you do it because once he dared to love me?’

‘I do it because he is an enemy.’

‘People say that you are afraid of him – that he might try to take me from you.’

‘Who says this? I’ll cut out their tongues.’

‘’Tis whispered here and there. There could be too many tongues involved. Would you want a tongueless household? You could stop this foolish talk by freeing him.’

‘Free Hugh de Lusignan?’

‘Why not? It would show your contempt for him.’

He was thoughtful. ‘Petty lord,’ he said. ‘He wouldn’t dare stand against me. He did not like riding in that cart, Isabella. That wounded him more than a hundred lashes would have done.’

‘I doubt that not for a moment. If you released him he would see the humiliation at once. He would say, “John despises me. If he did not he would never let me go.”’

John laughed. ‘That’s a woman’s reasoning.’

‘’Tis a true one.’

‘Why do you care what becomes of him?’ he asked suspiciously.

‘I don’t. I care only that people should not say you fear him.’

She yawned.

‘I am weary of that man,’ she said, and kissed him.

He responded as ever but he was still thinking of Hugh.

What if he released him? People would say ‘he bears no rancour’. But why should he bear rancour? It was Hugh’s place to bear that. What if he sent Hugh back to Lusignan? It would be tantamount to saying that what such a petty baron did was of little concern to him.

William Marshal asked for an audience. John received him with warmth. He must always remember that it was the Marshal who had made the way to the throne of England easy for him.

William said: ‘Is it indeed true, my lord, that you have made certain propositions to the Lusignans?’

‘Aye,’ said John, ‘’tis true.’

He was put out by the incredulous wonder in the Marshal’s eyes and quickly made excuses for his act.

‘There is trouble in the South,’ he said. ‘I have too many enemies there. I need friends. If the Lusignans would work for me, the entire aspect would be changed.’

‘They are your worst enemies, my lord.’

‘Enemies can be turned into friends, Marshal. You know that well.’

‘Then they are scarcely worth the effort.’

‘The Lusignans were once the friends of my House. My brother and they had a great deal in common.’

‘My lord, your marriage makes it impossible for the Lusignans ever to be true friends of your House.’

‘I think not. That is why I am freeing Hugh the Brown and the others who are my prisoners. I am demanding certain privileges in exchange for my clemency. With them holding the South for me they will stop enemy penetration. I shall demand pledges from them – a castle or two … some lands. They can hold La Marche for me and my position will be much happier.’

‘My lord, I beg of you, consider what you are doing.’

‘I have considered.’

‘These men will be in one of the most important strategic positions in your dominions.’

‘Exactly so.’

‘And you believe that they will work for you?’

‘I shall extract pledges from them. It will show everyone that I fear them not. In a way it is an act of contempt towards Hugh the Brown.’

‘I fear he will not consider it so.’

‘You are too set in your ways, Marshal.’

‘I fear you will regret this, my lord.’

‘I’ll warrant I’ll make you eat those words.’

‘I hope to God you do. Nothing would make me happier.’

‘You shall, Marshal. You shall.’

‘You are firmly fixed in this decision, my lord?’

‘I am.’

William the Marshal turned sorrowfully away. Was it true that John’s mind was weakening? And were those voluptuous nights sapping his strength – mental as well as physical? Many were saying they did and it would seem they might be right.

The Marshal was of course proved right. No sooner was Hugh de Lusignan free and returned to his estates than he began to break his pledges and store up trouble for John.

‘Pledges given to such a man mean nothing,’ he declared. ‘He is evil and if it is necessary to dissemble to outwit him then so must it be. I shall not rest until John of England goes back to the title he was born with – John Lackland. For only when we have rid ourselves of him will this land be a happy one.’

John fell into a rage. He could see he had been a fool. He began to shout of what he would do to Hugh de Lusignan if he ever fell into his hands again. Obscenities poured from his lips and his eyes seemed as if they would bolt out of his head.

He had been a fool, he knew. He had listened to Isabella’s soft words. Why had she been so interested in Hugh? But it might have worked. If Hugh had been a man whom he could have trusted he could have held the South for him.

As it was he was a traitor and with his stirring up trouble in the South and Philip beginning to emerge with a big army behind him John was getting worried.

He thought of Arthur in the castle of Falaise. What if they rescued him and put him in John’s place? That was what they were after.