The Revolt of the Eaglets Read online

  ‘There is one thing more,’ said the King, ‘I must have an assurance from you that you will not ask any more of me and that you will not withdraw yourselves or your service from me.’

  This was perhaps the most important part of all but they knew it was impossible to evade it. They were here in this little village of Mont Louis near Tours and he could, if he wished, seize them. They were virtually his prisoners, for he was their master.

  He was smiling at them.

  ‘Then we are friends,’ he said. ‘Richard, Geoffrey, you will do homage to me which will show that you are indeed my loyal sons and I your liege lord.’

  His two sons knelt and swore allegiance to him and when this was done young Henry prepared to do the same.

  His father smiled at him quizzically. ‘Nay, Henry,’ he said. ‘Are you not a king and a king of England? You could not then pay homage to me.’

  A great fear touched the young man then. He said in a sudden panic: ‘You are my father. I will swear allegiance to you as my brothers have done.’

  But the King shook his head. ‘Nay, my son.’ He laid his hand on young Henry’s shoulder and pressed it hard. ‘I shall expect loyalty from you and you will give it, for if you did not there could be terrible consequences … for you. But you will keep your vows. You will remember that I am your father, that it is from these hands that your good fortune flows. You shall be beside me. You shall be taught how to become a king in very truth and I shall be your tutor.’

  Young Henry smiled faintly, but he was uneasy.

  Now that he had made peace with his sons the King decided that he would keep them with him for a while that he might instill into them the need to keep to their promises.

  Ruefully he reminded himself that they were his sons. He had not always kept his promises. What if they had taken after him in that respect? He imagined they had. They were fighters all of them; whether they would make good kings he was unsure. But they could doubtless be tutored. He wanted young Henry to carry on in the way he had, for he had followed to some measure the rules laid down by his two great predecessors. Could he rely on Henry to do the same? Not at this stage. Henry was too easily led; he gave too ready an ear to flatterers. That was a trait which was of no use to any king. One of his best men had been Richard de Luci, his Chief Justiciar; he could trust that man as he would few others and never had his trust been misplaced and never had Richard de Luci flattered him. Sometimes his frankness might have angered the King but only momentarily. He thanked God he was too good a ruler to run from his best friends because of a bit of plain speaking. Young Henry must learn this. He was constantly in the company of men who fawned on him. He was turning from William Marshall who was a good friend and a worthy knight. People like Philip of Flanders attracted him. Henry would be the first to admit that such men could be attractive, entertaining, amusing, but one did not attach too much importance to their friendship.

  Young Henry had much to learn and where better could he learn it than at his father’s side?

  And as yet he would wait and see where he would send his sons. Perforce for a time they should ride with him. It was good to make them think of him as a father, to repair some of the damage that she-wolf had done. He should have barred her from the nurseries. What an unnatural woman! How different it would have been if Rosamund had been his Queen … or Alice. Alice was young yet for bearing children. Sooner or later he would get her with child he doubted not. And then … ? That could take care of itself when the matter arose.

  They had ridden through Anjou to Normandy. He had wanted the people to see his sons riding with him. Henry on one side, Richard on the other and young Geoffrey a pace or two behind. ‘See, we are united.’ That was what he was saying to the people. ‘Any who have rebellion in their minds get rid of it quickly. I am invincible … but with my sons beside me I am to be feared more than ever.’

  Yes, it was good to ride through his dominions with his sons as companions.

  In December they came to Argentan.

  ‘Here,’ he said, ‘we shall spend Christmas. It is good that we should all be together.’

  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

  The 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.’

  ‘I am at his mercy now,’ grimaced young Henry.

  ‘But at least he cannot go against his vows so quickly.’

  ‘He can and will do anything he
wishes. But at least I think he would wait awhile. I shall implore him to accept my homage. We shall then see what his reply is.’

  When they reached Bures the King was impatiently awaiting their arrival. He embraced them warmly, asked after their health, particularly that of his daughter-in-law, for he was wondering whether she had become pregnant yet, and then told them that he was planning to sail for England immediately.

  Young Henry asked if he might see him alone and permission was immediately granted.

  ‘My Father,’ he said, ‘I cannot believe that you love me as you do my brothers, and this makes me a most unhappy man.’

  ‘Why should you have such a notion? Are you not my eldest? And if you have rebelled against me so have your brothers. I have forgiven you and if you are a good son to me you can be sure of my love. How many fathers would have forgiven treachery such as you and your brothers showed towards me? And you say I do not love you!’

  ‘You have refused to accept my homage.’

  ‘Well, is that not because I have made you a king?’

  ‘It is but a title.’

  ‘Aye, but a title! There cannot be two kings in one realm. I made you a king, my son, so that when I die there will be no question as to who is my successor. You hold the title until you take the crown and that you can only do when I am not here to wear it.’

  ‘I am a king but in name. You are our sovereign lord. Yet you will not accept my homage. I can see no reason for this except that you do not love me.’

  ‘My dear son, if you wish to pay homage to me and take our oath of fealty then so shall it be.’

  ‘Oh, Father, then you do indeed love me.’

  They embraced and the King said with emotion, ‘It pleases me to see you in this contrite mood.’