The Revolt of the Eaglets (50 page)

Within a day they had landed at Waterford.

If only his other sons were as obedient as John!

Geoffrey was of little account. Geoffrey was pleasure-loving and more given to sporting at tournaments than on the battlefield. This was a pity, for Geoffrey had a ready wit and was quick to assess a situation. His marriage was successful; he had a daughter, Eleanor, and his wife would most likely bring him more children. He should hold Brittany satisfactorily.

The son who caused him most concern was of course Richard. The question of when he was going to marry was continually being brought forward. It was becoming farcical. Alice was now twenty-five. All those years she had been his mistress and still was. She seemed young to him because of the great difference in their ages and she had become a habit. If he were not so passionately desirous now as he had been, he still cherished her; and in his desire for her was a certain amount of hatred against Richard and the King of France. He had to keep Alice. If he let her go now the story of her seduction would surely be discovered. Alice was mature; she had borne him a child. She was not going to be mistaken for a virgin. Then the scandal would break. His enemies would revel in it, magnify it. He could imagine what old Heraclius would do with it.

He had survived one scandal, the murder of Thomas. How would he fare if the story of Alice’s seduction at twelve, her life with him for thirteen years when he had held her in spite of the importunings of Richard and her family, was known? What would the world say to that?

They would say he was a monster. They would recall that his ancestress was a witch; they would say that the Anjou family was born of the Devil.

He had been young when Thomas was murdered; his sheer vitality and quick mind had brought him through that. Now sometimes he felt an old and beaten man. And every time his sons rebelled against him he felt a little more vulnerable.

His presence was needed in Normandy and he left England beset by many problems. He was thinking a great deal about Richard who had defied him when he refused to give up Aquitaine. As he saw it now, Richard would be King of England. He could not have Aquitaine as well. Richard must give up Aquitaine to John.

Suddenly it occurred to him that there was one person to whom Richard
would
relinquish his Duchy: his mother.

He sent for Eleanor to come to Normandy, selecting a suitable escort for her.

Eleanor was excited.

What did this mean? It must be a change in her fortune. It was years since she had crossed the Channel. Henry must be realising at last that he was making too many enemies by keeping her captive.

When she arrived he received her with courtesy and she was very eager to hear what he had to say.

‘My lord, to what do I owe this honour?’ she asked as soon as he granted her a private audience.

‘I want to talk to you.’

‘I knew you would want something,’ she mocked. ‘I did not expect you would have brought me here otherwise. Why, Henry, you look perplexed. Has old Heraclius been bothering you with his curses?’

‘He bothers me not.’

‘They say he is a very holy man.’

‘He is a man who, like most, has his own interests at heart.’

‘As you say, who has not? And what are yours this moment?’

‘I would have you remember that you are here by my clemency.’

‘I am not likely to forget it. You and your servants constantly remind me.’

‘I have sent for you as I wish to discuss Aquitaine with you.’

‘Ah?’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘I am all attention.’

‘Richard refuses to give it up.’

‘Rightly so. He has fought for it.’

‘There should have been no need to fight for it.’

‘Nor would there have been, if my people had seen me treated in accordance with my rank.’

‘Your people if they have good sense will know that you played traitor to your husband and because he is a king he has a way of dealing with traitors.’

‘They like not to see me in captivity.’

‘Then mayhap they will be pleased to see the land restored to you.’

‘What mean you, Henry?’

‘That I am commanding Richard to give back Aquitaine to you.’

‘To me.’ Her eyes were alight with excitement. He watched her closely. This was the way to act.

‘Richard must by nature of his age be my heir. He will have England, Normandy, Anjou, all that Henry would have had, had he lived. We have another son, John. I would have my dominions divided equally.’

‘So you want Aquitaine for John.’

‘I want Aquitaine for you.’

‘And I shall return to my country.’ For a moment her emotions were too much for her to control. ‘Oh, my God, how I have longed to be there. How the cold of Salisbury Castle has seeped into my bones. I long for the sun.’

He was silent, watching her. If Aquitaine were hers and she was the only one to whom Richard would give it, and she was his prisoner, he it was who would have control of that land.

She was aware of his eyes upon her and she thought: Once it is mine I will bestow it on Richard again as I did before. Aquitaine is for Richard. He belongs there as he never did to England. He is my son and Aquitaine shall be for him.

‘This will be the way to restore order to Aquitaine,’ she said.

Eleanor had not felt so excited for years. At last her imprisonment was over. She was going to be free, free to hold her own Court, to gather round her the troubadours of the South, to intrigue with her beloved Richard against his father.

Chapter XVII

THE FATAL JOUST

H
enry’s plan had succeeded. Richard, who had refused to hand over Aquitaine to his brother, at once agreed to give it to his mother. This was done.

When Eleanor was making her preparations to depart for Aquitaine she received a shock.

Henry came to her. ‘I see that you are ready to leave,’ he said. ‘That is good for I wish there to be no delay.’

‘In a few days I shall set out. Soon I shall be in Poitiers.’

The King raised his eyebrows. ‘Nay,’ he said, ‘that is not what I intend.’

She stared at him unbelievingly.

He said: ‘You have forgotten one thing. You are my captive. How could I trust you in Aquitaine? What would be the first thing you would do? Plot against me. Do you take me for a fool? You are going back to England. At your castle they will be waiting to receive you.’

‘No!’ she cried.

‘But yes. I am glad you will soon be ready to leave.’

‘You have given me back Aquitaine.’

‘In name only. That will keep the peace.’

‘You … cheat!’

‘Call me rather the guardian of my dominions.’

‘I should have known you never kept a promise.’

‘Well, you had many years to make my acquaintance, so could be expected to know me well.’

‘It is small wonder that your sons all hate you.’

‘You brought them up to that. A bad task well done. Do you think I shall ever forget or forgive you for it? If you think that, you do not know Henry Plantagenet. Moreover, how could I ever sleep easy if I thought of you in Aquitaine plotting against me, stirring my sons to rebellion?’

‘I … hate you,’ she said quietly.

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘You have done that for years but I have managed to survive.’

‘What a liar, what a cheat, a lecher, a breaker of promises; it is small wonder as Heraclius says that God has abandoned you.’

He was suddenly afraid of her. With her loosened hair and her eyes blazing she looked like a witch prophetess.

He turned and left her.

John proudly stepped ashore on Irish soil. His land! Lord of Ireland! King of Ireland! The titles rang in his ears and the feeling of power it brought with it was as intoxicating as any wine.

What did a king do in his own land? He made sure that everyone was aware that they were his subjects. What he wanted of them they must give. A wonderful situation. Lands, women, everything he wanted was his. He kept reminding himself of that. He had chosen his special friends to accompany him, young men who were very like himself. They strutted, they drank too much, they boasted of their conquests of women and they never forgot to give their Prince what he constantly demanded: flattery.

The dress of the Irish amused them and, when dignitaries came to receive him, John roared with laughter at their costumes and his followers immediately joined in his mirth. The Irish were bearded. It was one of their customs. This seemed comical to John and he and his friends tweaked the beards of those who came to greet them in a most insolent manner.

Naturally enough the chieftains were insulted and were not going to endure this.

Hugh de Lacy tried to restrain the irresponsible young men, pointing out to John that the Irish were quarrelsome and warlike people and would not endure such treatment.

‘They will endure whatever treatment I care to impose on them,’ retorted John.

Hugh de Lacy groaned. Why had the King, usually so shrewd, risked the loss of Ireland by sending this stupid arrogant youth?

Worse was to come. John and his band marched through Ireland. Whenever they fancied anything, they took it. They plundered the towns, they coerced the women and if these were unwilling they were raped.

It was hardly likely that the Irish would quietly allow such desecration of their land. As John proceeded through the country he was met by armies, and as he was more proficient in plundering defenceless towns than in fighting, he was very soon in desperate straits.