The Revolt of the Eaglets (20 page)

It would be a merry Christmas. How wonderful it would be if little Alice were here with him as his Queen. Other women could not completely satisfy him. This was how it had been in the early days with Rosamund.

His foresters from England sent eighty deer to Argentan because, they said, there were no deer that could compare with those of England. The King must celebrate his Christmas with his sons and the deer of England.

He liked the gesture, although food had never been his great concern. He was glad though that it was recognised that this was a special Christmas.

He rode often with his sons and a few days before Christmas when he was returning to the castle he said to Richard: ‘You look woebegone, my son. Are you not well?’

‘I was thinking of my mother,’ said Richard.

The King’s face hardened. ‘Alas, she has a lesson to learn.’

‘It is a hard one, my lord.’

‘As traitors’ lessons must be.’

‘You have been kinder to your sons than to your wife,’ said Richard.

‘It is for me to decide what shall be the punishment of those who betray me.’

‘She did not fight against you.’

‘How could she … a woman?’

‘She but came to join us, her own sons.’

‘That she might instill in you the wish to rebel against your father.’

‘If she were at fault could you not forgive her now as you have us?’

‘Nay,’ he said, ‘I could not.’

‘But should you not be kind to your wife?’

‘By God’s eyes, Richard,’ cried the King, ‘would you presume to tell me my duty?’

‘Nay, Father, I think your heart will tell you that.’

‘It does, my son. And the message it gives me is “Keep that woman under restraint. She is a she-wolf who would teach her cubs to devour their father.”’

‘Their father would not allow that.’

‘By God’s hands, teeth and eyes he would not. But enough .. . enough I say. Be silent! Or I might change my mind regarding you. You would not wish to share your mother’s fate.’

Richard
was
silent. The familiar signs of anger were rising. Richard was too bold, decided the King. The lad would have to be taught a lesson. Of all his sons Richard made him the most uncomfortable. But perhaps that was because of Alice.

They feasted well on the deer from England and after the banquet the musicians played to them. Richard sang a song of his own composing which was about a knight who was betrothed to a fair maiden whom a wicked ogre had imprisoned in a castle. The song was about the knight’s love for his lady and his determination to face any odds in order to rescue his bride.

The King felt faintly uneasy and more so later when Richard was seated beside him and his son said: ‘Father, I am no longer a boy. Like the knight in the song I am betrothed.’

‘Oh yes … to young Alice. I hear she is a comely girl.’

‘It is time we were married.’

The King nodded. ‘Very soon,’ he said soothingly, ‘very soon.’

‘I am of an age to have a wife.’

‘You have much to do, my son. I have plans for you. We have far-flung dominions and such need protecting. I am fortunate in having four sons who have overcome their folly and have now learned what is best for them. I can see you will be a great fighter, Richard, a leader of men.’

‘I feel that too, Father, but I shall also need a wife. I believe the King of France is of the opinion that our marriage should take place at once.’

‘The King of France has never been a man of good judgement. Leave me to decide, Richard, when you shall have your bride.’

‘And that will be soon, my lord?’

‘It will be when I think fit, my son.’

‘You have seen my bride, Father?’

‘Yes, she has been in the schoolroom with young John and Joanna.’

‘Do you think she will make me a good wife?’

‘I think she could well make a good wife.’

‘Then the ceremony must soon take place. I am determined on it.’

The King was silent. Then he clapped his hands and asked for another song.

An uncomfortable fellow, Richard. Different from the others. Stronger in a way.

But he was not going to have Alice. He was not parting with her. Something would have to be done. When he returned to England he would try to think of a plan.

Chapter VII

THE KING’S CHOICE

T
he King had no intention of wasting time on Christmas revelries. He wanted to go to England but before he did so he must make sure that his possessions here were safeguarded. He could trust his sons … for a while. Their vows had been too recent for them to dare break them yet. He told young Henry to go to Rouen and let it be known there that he came with his father’s blessing. Richard should go to Poitou and preserve order there; Geoffrey should go to Brittany and act in the same manner there. He himself would ride through Normandy and make sure that the dukedom could safely be left in the hands of trusty custodians.

The young men, all relieved to have escaped from their father’s vigilance, departed on their various ways.

The young Henry could not resist riding to the Court of France on the pretext that his wife, Marguerite, wished to see her father. Louis received them with the utmost honour, for he was delighted that the young man should come to see him, and Henry, smarting from the humiliation which surrender to his father’s wishes had given him was appeased to be received thus by the King of France.

Louis wanted to hear about the meeting and expressed himself horrified when he heard of the old King’s terms.

‘My dear son,’ he said, ‘you see he has robbed you of your rights.’

‘I see,’ replied Henry, ‘that I am in no better case than before my rebellion – in fact even worse.’

Louis nodded. ‘It will not always be so.’

‘But I have sworn not to rise against him.’

‘Events will show you how to act,’ said Louis.

‘You do not like my father, my lord.’

‘Like him? Who likes him? He is not a man to be liked. He is a great general. He is victorious in battle. But there is more in life than fighting.’

‘It plays a large part in the life of a king, it seems.’

‘Alas! How much happier a man would be living peacefully with his children around him.’

‘My father would not allow me to pay homage to him. He accepted this from my brothers but he said that as I was a crowned king it would not be meet for me to pay it to him.’

Louis was thoughtful. ‘Did he not then?’ he ruminated and shook his head slowly.

‘It shows, does it not, that he regards me as a king?’

‘The paying of homage is double-edged,’ said the King of France. ‘The knight swears to serve his master, his master swears to protect his knight. It could well be that your father did not wish to give his word to protect you.’

‘Why not, think you?’

‘It may well be that he has his reasons.’

‘What reasons could there be?’

‘Your mother is his prisoner. She showed that she was ready to rebel against him. You have shown that, my son.’

‘And so did my brothers.’

‘But they have not been crowned king.’

‘What do you fear for me?’

‘That since he is not bound to protect you he could imprison you as he has your mother.’

‘Do you believe he would do this?’

‘I would believe anything of Henry Plantagenet.’

The young King was alarmed but Louis laid his hand on his arm. ‘Take care, that is all. Make sure that you are never in a position such as your mother’s.’

‘How could I make sure of this?’

‘You can never be sure, of course. But if your father accepted your homage and in return swore to protect you, you could feel much happier.’

Henry was afraid. No, he did not trust his father. Could it really be that he would imprison him? Why had he not done so, if that were the case? He had captured his mother when she was disguised as a knight. That was different.

He continued to be uneasy.

At the French Court he met Philip of Flanders with whom he had been on terms of friendship since Philip had helped him to try to invade England. That endeavour had gone awry but Philip was not worried.

They jousted together. Philip was a master of that art. Tilting was his passion. One needed so much equipment that Henry could not afford to take much part in it. Philip laughed at him. ‘And you a king!’ he cried. ‘Never mind. I will help you. I can supply you with all you need.’

It was a wonderful pastime. Henry would have loved to linger and enjoy it. His father would have called it a waste of time. He thought of nothing but governing his realms; he had always said that he dared not take his hands from the reins for one moment. Serve him right. He should let his sons take their inheritance and govern for him now that he was getting old, let him go to England and live like a king. But he had never cared for things which meant so much to Henry. When he rode out with a lance it had to be in a real battle; when he spent money it had to be to equip his army and to build some castle. It was work and duty all the time with him. He missed so much in life. Young Henry did not however intend to miss these pleasures if he could help it.

Tilting, feasting, enjoying the company of women – they were the good things of life.

He wished he could live like Philip of Flanders.

Philip told him that he was contemplating a trip to Jerusalem. He thought it would be a great adventure to travel to the Holy Land and strike a blow for Christianity.

How Henry would have liked to accompany him. He imagined telling his father of his desire. He could see the lights of contempt flashing into the leonine face. ‘Fight for the Holy Land! You have a kingdom here to fight for, my son.’

Yet his mother had gone. She had had great adventures. How sad that she was a prisoner. And to think that his father was her jailer!

He
was at the root of all their troubles.

Even then he remembered that he was supposed to be in Rouen. Reluctantly he and Marguerite took farewell of Philip of Flanders and he presented himself to his friend and father-in-law Louis of France, in order to receive his blessing.

‘Take care,’ said Louis. ‘Beware of Henry Plantagenet. Make sure that he does not treat you as he has his wife. If he should send you to England do not go until he has accepted your homage and promised his protection. If you do not you could be his prisoner, for in England he has the power to do that which he would hesitate to do elsewhere.’

Henry thanked his father-in-law and left for Rouen.

It seemed that they had been a very short time there when a command came from the King. His son and daughter-in-law were to join him at Bures for he wished them to accompany him to England.

The young couple were dismayed.

‘It is as my father said it would be,’ cried Marguerite. ‘He wants you to be in England where he will make you his prisoner.’

Young Henry did not know what to do. To disobey the summons was unthinkable and yet what would it mean to go?

‘Your father said that if he would accept my homage it would be difficult for him to imprison me.’

‘I see that,’ replied Marguerite.

‘The only thing I can do is to implore him to allow me to swear fealty to him.’

‘Try that,’ advised his wife, ‘and if he refuses you will know you have to be on your guard. We might try to escape. My father thinks that if you have not sworn fealty as soon as you are on English soil you will be at his mercy.’