The Revolt of the Eaglets (26 page)

‘I would go to him and confront him with his villainy.’

‘I know you would and your bluntness is a trait in your character which gives me some cause for alarm. I have heard of your new nickname, “Richard Yea and Nay”, they say, because with you it is always “It shall be” or “It shall not be”. You will have to learn that it is sometimes necessary to prevaricate and you could not have a better teacher in that art than your father.’

‘Would you have me behave as he does?’

‘I hate him and I love you. But hating him as I do yet I see there is a certain greatness in him. His lust will destroy him, as it has destroyed our marriage. Yet do not underestimate him for he is a formidable adversary. Fight him with subtlety. Make sure that the revenge you take is the one which will hurt him most.’

‘I will do as you say, Mother. I will not let him know that I am aware of this seduction. I will not have her but I shall let no one know this and it will only be when she is brought to me that I will refuse her.’

‘For the foolish girl I care not. All I wish is to humiliate him.’

‘How you hate him!’

‘Do you not also?’

‘From my earliest days you showed me what he is.’

The Queen laughed, well pleased. A very uneasy time lay ahead for the King.

It was difficult for Richard to keep his disgust to himself. Not that he was shocked at his father’s seduction of a young girl; Richard’s own morals were not so very stern; but that his father should have dared take the bride who was affianced to him was a personal insult.

He would be revenged, but what his mother said was true. For the time, he must do his best to feign friendship with the King, for he needed help to suppress the rebellions in Aquitaine. He had to face the fact that he was not popular there. For all that he was his mother’s favourite and it was her wish that he should be crowned Duke, they did not want him. He was not of the South. One look at that long-limbed golden-haired young man was enough to proclaim him a Norman. So many of the Viking characteristics had come out in him: his blue eyes, his golden hair, his tall figure, the manner in which he sat his horse, his immense strength. True he was a poet and loved the troubadours, but even his songs had a northern flavour. They were more like those which Rollo and his men had sung when they came sailing down the Seine to ravage France than the voluptuous ballads of the South.

The people of Aquitaine could not entirely accept him. They suspected that immense energy. He could be fierce in battle, and they were suspicious of him. They wanted Eleanor back. They understood her. They admired her elegance; and her adventurous spirit appealed to them. They had been cheated of their Duchess and although they had been assured that Richard was her beloved son they did not trust him any more than they trusted his father.

Therefore he needed help. The best thing that could have happened would have been for him to take his mother back with him.

That was something the King would not allow.

He sent for his two sons, Henry and Richard, and told them what he wished them to do.

He had solved two problems at one stroke.

Henry should accompany Richard to Aquitaine and help him keep order there.

Henry did not protest. His great desire was to get away from the leading strings which he declared his father had put him into. Once let him get away and put the sea between them, and he would be free.

So Eleanor went back to Salisbury and Richard prepared to sail for France. Before they left, Henry’s wife Marguerite went to Canterbury to pray at the shrine of St Thomas à Becket. She longed for a child and asked the saint to intercede for her.

Then the brothers with Marguerite left England.

Chapter IX

THE YOUNG KING

T
here was a difference of opinion between the brothers. Richard wished to return to Aquitaine as quickly as possible for the prospect of battle always excited him. But Henry was in no such hurry. He was free of his father, or so he believed, and he wanted to make the most of his good fortune.

Marguerite expressed her wish to see her own father and Henry said that before accompanying Richard to Aquitaine they would call on the King of France.

Louis received them with pleasure and as usual treated Henry as his own son. He loved all his children dearly and he always took great pleasure in the company of any of them. When he heard that Marguerite had been to Canterbury to pray at St Thomas’s Shrine, he applauded what she had done.

‘A saint whose death was one of the great tragedies of Christendom,’ he commented. ‘I shall never forget the day I heard of his murder. I am sure your prayers will be heard and answered.’

He himself gave special services for the couple and they were convinced that soon their great wish would be granted.

Young Henry took pleasure in the knowledge that if his father knew he had come to the King of France he would be furious. Although recently he had feigned affection for his father and had perhaps sometimes felt a little, now that he was no longer with him, all his resentment was aroused, and the hatred, revived, was as strong as ever.

He told Louis that they had seen their mother. Louis could never be quite indifferent to Eleanor and wanted to hear how she was faring under her imprisonment.

‘There is little change in her,’ Henry told the King.

‘She would come through any adventures unscathed,’ said Louis admiringly.

Henry then brought up the matter which his mother had suggested he bring to the notice of the King of France.

‘Richard envies us our married happiness,’ said Henry. ‘He is wondering when his bride will be given to him.’

‘I wonder that also,’ said Louis, frowning. ‘I do not understand why there should be this delay. Alice is now sixteen years of age. Surely that is an age for marriage.’

‘And Richard is almost twenty. It is only right that he should have his bride.’

‘Why should there be this delay?’ demanded Louis.

‘It is some devilment of my father’s,’ answered Henry. ‘Depend upon it.’

‘It makes no sense,’ said Louis. ‘The King of England wishes this marriage and so do I. Yet the Princess is kept at the Court of England and is neither returned to her father nor given to her husband.’

‘What do you intend to do about it?’ asked Henry.

‘It would seem that the King of England has some intentions which are not clear to us. I will send a messenger to the Pope and ask his help in the matter.’

Young Henry left the King of France and travelled to Poitiers, that beautiful capital city of Aquitaine set on a hill. It seemed to the young King that to go into battle was a foolish thing to do. There was so much which was more entertaining. Aquitaine, so called because of the abundance of springs, streams and rivers, was a beautiful land. In such well-watered territory there were many vineyards and the vegetation was lush indeed.

It was a land made for song and pleasure and to give oneself to fighting and discomfort was not young Henry’s idea of enjoyment. What was the use of being a king if one must continually be on the march and live in discomfort like a common soldier?

The fair city of Poitiers suited him and he would have liked to linger there, but Richard pointed out that they had not come to Aquitaine to pass the days in idleness. There was trouble in Angoulême and to Angoulême they must go.

Richard set out and Henry followed him, but he regretted leaving the city where he had had such a pleasant time; and as he was riding into Angoulême, he received a message from his old friend, Philip of Flanders.

Philip had, some time previously, sworn that he would go on a crusade to the Holy Land and Henry was surprised that he had not already embarked upon it. Philip wrote that he had a reason for remaining in Flanders which he would explain when they met. In the meantime he wanted Henry to join him and take advantage of a round of pleasure for he was staging a series of tournaments and he knew how Henry enjoyed such entertainments.

Henry wavered. He should, of course, stay with Richard, for his help would be needed and this was what his father had commanded. But Richard was capable of fighting his own battles as he was such a renowned warrior and why should he, crowned King of England, always have to consider what his father wanted? He soon convinced himself that he had every right to go where he wished and shortly after he received Philip’s message, he set out for Flanders.

Philip was delighted to see him and Henry enjoyed enumerating all the wrongs he had received at his father’s hands and declaring that he would never fall into them again.

He had been a puppet, nothing more.

Philip commiserated. It was monstrous that one who was a crowned King of England should be so treated.

‘My father greatly regrets he ever allowed the crown to be placed on my head.’

‘Then if he regrets such important acts which were performed at his bidding does it not show he is unfit to govern?’

The friends were in agreement.

Those were days of immense pleasure.

‘This is the life,’ cried Henry.

Tournaments were mock battles. They provided the utmost pleasure without the discomfort of war. Excitement and the ability to cut a fine figure were stressed. What could be more stimulating?