The Lion of Justice Page 17

  No matter how strongly he came against him, he was going to defeat him.

  Robert was not going to be the King of England. That honour was reserved for Henry. And, God willing, Robert should not long retain Normandy, for that was to be Henry’s too. Their father would approve. What would he be thinking, looking down from heaven, of the terrible state of anarchy to which men like the Bellêmes had reduced Normandy? He would approve of Henry’s rule in England: he was the king he himself would have instituted.

  The spirit of my father will be with me today, thought Henry.

  A messenger was brought to his tent. He was disordered and muddy and one look at his face showed that he had ill news to impart.

  ‘My lord King, the Duke of Normandy has landed.’

  ‘Where, by God!’

  ‘At Portsmouth. Piloted into the harbour by the fleet. They are marching to Winchester.’

  Robert surveyed his troops as they re-formed after the landing. Ranulf Flambard, who had done much to organize the expedition, was beside him. He was exultant.

  ‘We cannot fail, my lord,’ said Ranulf. ‘We have completed without opposition the most difficult part of the operation. Our spies have done well. Henry is waiting to receive us at Pevensey. Now to Winchester.’

  ‘To Winchester!’ said Robert.

  ‘A rather amusing turn to affairs,’ murmured Ranulf. ‘The Queen is lying-in there. She has given birth to a daughter.’

  ‘A daughter! My niece!’ Robert smiled. ‘And lying-in at Winchester! Well, then, we cannot march to Winchester.’

  ‘My lord?’

  ‘Nay,’ said Robert, ‘for if the Queen is lying-in she would be disturbed by soldiers in the town. Moreover, it might be difficult to control them. What if they broke into her lying-in chamber?’

  ‘So much the better.’

  Robert looked with distaste at Ranulf. He had to admit that the man was clever, and he had been eager to make use of his services when he had arrived in Normandy. He had been of great use, for he knew at first hand what was to be expected in England: having served Rufus in such an intimate manner he was well acquainted with the state of affairs in England. He could not have had a better guide. When Ranulf had arrived in Normandy, slightly crippled by his fall from the rope when escaping, his hands swathed in bandages because when he slid down the rope the skin had been peeled from them, he had seemed the perfect minister. He had suffered much to come to Normandy: he must believe Robert’s cause was just, to endure so much in his service; but now Robert clearly saw him as an insensitive oaf.

  The fact was that Robert had been feeling more and more uneasy as he approached England. Brother against brother. It was not a situation he enjoyed. He had never been on good terms with Rufus, but he had always deplored it. And Henry was their younger brother, the one who had been left with very little. Their father had said that Henry would one day have more than either Robert or Rufus. He wondered what their mother would be thinking if she could know that they were preparing to go into battle against each other.

  His chances were good: Ranulf was right there. He was in the superior position, but he had very little stomach for battle against his own brother.

  He had just returned from a holy war in which he had distinguished himself. He believed that he had been purged of his sins by his service to God: and now he was going to do battle against his brother. What if Henry should be killed? It seemed to him that all the honours he had won in heaven through his crusade would be lost to him.

  Ranulf was looking uneasy. He drew his horse closer to Robert’s.

  ‘A goodly array,’ he said. ‘We shall be victorious. In a very short time, now, England will be where it belongs – in the hands of Robert of Normandy, King of England.’

  ‘That is in God’s hands,’ said Robert.

  ‘And in ours, my lord. We must take the city of Winchester.’

  ‘I say we shall not go to Winchester.’

  ‘It is the capital city of these parts, lord.’

  ‘It is the lying-in place of my sister-in-law.’

  ‘That cannot affect our plans.’

  ‘It can and it will.’ Robert’s quick temper showed in his heightened colour. He had always been quixotic. He it was who – when he and Rufus were besieging Mont St-Michel when Henry was there with his adherents – had sent in wine for his brother’s table because they were dying of thirst. Rufus had cursed him for a fool, just as Ranulf would be doing if he dared.

  ‘These are my men,’ he said. ‘I am their commander, and I say that we shall not ride into Winchester.’

  Henry left Pevensey with a sinking heart. Robert would be marching on Winchester where Matilda was lying-in! He was afraid. What would become of her? He pictured her lying in her bed clutching the baby at her breast while Robert’s soldiers burst into the chamber.

  It must never be. He must prevent that. He cursed the fleet which had betrayed him. He cursed himself for being at Pevensey when they had landed at Portsmouth.

  A messenger came riding up.

  ‘My lord, the Normans are not riding to Winchester. They are going straight to London.’

  He was astonished. Surely they should have gone to Winchester? It was the reasonable road to have taken and at Winchester was the Treasury, his wife, his new-born child.

  Seeing his puzzlement the messenger continued. ‘On the Duke’s instructions, my lord. He would not go there as the Queen was lying-in.’

  A slow smile touched Henry’s lips. How typical of Robert! Always chivalrous. He would lose a battle rather than act in an un-knightly manner. It was small wonder that his dukedom was a place of anarchy. Robert might be the most charming of men but he was one of the worst rulers any country could have. Rufus had been a good one compared with him. Odd, thought Henry, to think that we three were all fathered by one man, and that man the great Conqueror!

  But his spirits were lifted. He felt happier than he had since he knew that his fleet had deserted to his brother.

  The two armies met at Alton. They drew up, their helmets glittering in the sun; and at the head of each army were the brothers.

  Robert rode forward and Henry went to meet him.

  ‘Hail, brother!’ said Robert.

  ‘Hail!’ said Henry.

  ‘This is a sorry state when brothers meet in conflict.’

  ‘A conflict of your making.’

  ‘I never had great heart for it.’

  Henry’s own heart began to beat wildly with hope. He knew that he was outnumbered. He could not be sure how many of those who were behind him now were true followers, and who would have deserted to the enemy by nightfall.

  Henry said, ‘Yet you come at the head of an army.’

  ‘They seem to have arranged it before I returned to Rouen.’

  ‘Freed of your sins, but not for long if you kill your brother in battle,’ said Henry. ‘Are we to fight, then? Our mother would be grieved.’

  It was a good allusion, for Robert had always felt sentimental about his mother – and well he might, as she had defied the Conqueror to support him.

  ‘It is not meet that brother should fight brother.’

  ‘Perhaps we could come to some agreement.’

  ‘Why brother, that would please me.’

  An agreement! To sit down to a conference! Henry the lawyer would fare far better on such an occasion than the dreamer idealist.

  ‘We must arrange it.’

  ‘We will.’

  Robert rode back to his men. He was smiling happily.

  ‘There is to be no battle,’ he announced. ‘My brother and I have agreed to settle this matter amicably by a treaty.’

  Ranulf groaned. Did I almost kill myself for this? he asked himself. Did I arrange this excursion? Did I use my spies so that I knew what was happening in England, raise the money, manoeuvre the desertion of the fleet . . . all this for a fool? Had Robert not the advantage? He was crazy; he would never be anything but a foolish adventurer.

  Ranul
f had chosen unwisely. He should have served the wily lawyer – never the mad adventurer who could not call at Winchester because his sister-in-law was in childbed; who had every advantage, and who was prepared to have it all stripped from him at the conference table.

  Each of the brothers had chosen twelve knights to sit with him at that conference table, that they might work out the details of the treaty. Henry was in his element. He listened to Robert, and whenever his brother made a point which was not quite sound he would seize on it so that all attention was focused on it. Robert did not understand this lawyer’s trick and he was quickly out of his depth.

  ‘The people of England,’ Henry explained, ‘want an English King, as the people of Normandy want a Norman Duke. Our father was aware of this. If he were here now he would say that your place was in Normandy, brother; mine in England.’

  Robert saw the point of this.

  ‘But as the elder I have the claim, Henry,’ he pointed out. ‘And Rufus and I had an understanding that if either of us died the other should inherit his possessions.’

  ‘You had pawned Normandy to Rufus.’

  ‘Ay, and redeemed it.’

  ‘From me,’ Henry reminded him with a smile as though that settled the matter. ‘You could not rule England and Normandy, brother. Admit my claim and it may well be that a pension can be arranged for you for so doing.’

  The thought of ready money always attracted Robert. True, he lost it almost as soon as he acquired it, but that did not prevent his always being fascinated by the prospect.

  The ageement was drawn up. For a pension of 3,000 marks a year Robert should withdraw his claim to the English throne and at the same time Henry would renounce his claims on Normandy.

  That seemed fair enough.

  ‘There is one other point,’ said Robert. ‘Many Normans who have estates in England came to my support. It must be part of the agreement that they do not suffer for this.’

  Henry hesitated. Ranulf Flambard. Robert of Bellême. His brother, who was looking at him earnestly, said, ‘I could not agree without your promise. These men came to my aid. I could not desert them.’

  ‘And if I refused?’

  ‘They would insist on fighting this out in battle.’

  Fighting it out in battle with superior forces and men of doubtful loyalty in his ranks! Henry was not really hesitating. He would give the promise but he might well find a way round it. He was not going to allow men like Robert of Bellême to flourish in his country. They were a menace to his plans for law and order. But the important fact now was to prevent a battle in which the enemy had superior forces.

  He had come well out of this. Poor Robert! He would always fail.

  So the treaty was concluded, and even then Henry could scarcely believe his good fortune.

  As soon as possible he rode to Winchester to tell Matilda about it.

  So, he had plucked peace out of what seemed like certain disaster. True, he must pay Robert’s pension – for a year at least. Then he must find some pretext for discontinuing it.

  Now he could settle to this real business – that of ruling England. First, though, there was the christening of their little daughter.

  Henry had said, ‘There is one name I should like her to have above all others. That of her mother.’

  So with a certain ceremony the child was christened Matilda.

  She was a lusty girl, and showed signs of becoming a true granddaughter of the Conqueror, for she gave voice to loud yells of protest when anything she wanted was denied her; her parents were delighted with her.

  Henry faced Ranulf Flambard, who was watching him convertly. This was the man who had dared cast gibes at him when Rufus was alive; who, when imprisoned in the White Tower, had made such a daring escape, and had gone to Normandy to plan the invasion of England; the man who would have snatched England from Henry and given it to Robert.

  Such a man, thought Henry, I should send back to the White Tower; I should have his eyes put out that he might not escape again and plot against me.

  They looked steadily at each other.

  He knew what Ranulf was thinking: Robert is a fool and I was a fool also to throw in my lot with him. I would have been wiser to go with the clever brother.

  Indeed, my friend, you would, thought Henry.

  Ranulf was clever in a manner which Henry understood, for it was his own brand of wisdom. Could it be that he might use that wisdom in support of Henry? It was a brilliant move to have lured the fleet over to Normandy so that the force which Henry should have built up to protect him should have been the very means of destroying his protection. He could appreciate that.

  ‘What would you say, Ranulf Flambard,’ he said, ‘if I were to return your lands in England?’

  ‘I would say you were a most generous King.’

  ‘And you would live here?’

  A crafty look came into Ranulf’s eyes. ‘I am a grateful man. I return favour for favour. It might well be that I could show my gratitude if I spent some time in Normandy.’

  The man was shrewd. He knew what was going on in Henry’s mind. Pay a pension to Robert? Only until his forces were out of England. And then why should not Henry turn the tables and cast his eyes in the direction of Normandy? And if he did, Ranulf Flambard might well have an opportunity to show his gratitude.

  ‘You are a clever man, Ranulf,’ said Henry. ‘There are not enough brains in the world that we can afford to destroy them.’

  Ranulf bowed, his eyes gleaming.

  He was ready to change his allegiance, for here was a master whom he could serve while taking good care of himself. Moreover he was in Henry’s hands now and if Henry was going to exact no payment for his deeds then he was indeed eager for his services.

  There was complete understanding between the two men. Ranulf’s estates would be graciously returned to him and he would live sometimes in Normandy, sometimes in England; and when the moment came for Henry to exert his claims, Ranulf would be his friend as he had tried to be Robert’s.

  Henry was not so lenient with Robert of Bellême.

  Henry knew that Normandy was in a state of anarchy and that this was due to men such as Robert of Bellême. Since Robert of Bellême had acquired estates throughout the country he had attempted to set up a similar state of affairs in England. The Bellêmes had been brought up in cruelty. They had been practising for generations. There was a warped streak in the entire family, and their great aim was to see everyone cringe before them. Henry was determined to crush them.

  He discussed this with Anselm, who was in agreement with him.

  ‘I must,’ said Henry, ‘rid the country of this man. Yet I have vowed to my brother that those Normans who rebelled against me and showed their allegiance to Duke Robert should be forgiven.’

  ‘But,’ said Anselm, ‘this man has been guilty of many sins. It should not be difficult to bring charges against him on these scores.’

  It was exactly what Henry had in mind, but he wanted Anselm to suggest that this action be taken, so that it did not come from him and he could not be said to have broken his promise to his brother.

  It was not difficult to bring charges against Robert of Bellême. The man was a scoundrel of the first degree.

  The result of the investigations was that Robert of Bellême was summoned to the King’s Court to face the charges.

  Being accustomed to command and having held all Normandy in terror, Robert of Bellême was not going to submit lightly to this upstart King. He began by fortifying his castles and preparing to defend them against the King.

  This was a very different matter from facing a Norman army. Moreover, Henry was in no fear of deserters now. There was not a man, woman or child in those areas near the Bellême estates who did not go in fear of capture by the wicked baron or his servants. The fact that the King was going into battle against this ogre was a cause for hope throughout the country.

  The King had made harsh laws – particularly forest laws – but e
veryone knew them for laws which must be obeyed. They need have no fear if they obeyed them. How different was the rule of the Bellêmes, when innocent travellers could be waylaid, when a man could be asked to dine and then to provide sport for the company which could end in his death. Bellême had been known to impale men and women on stakes and gloat over their dying agonies. There was no torture, no obscenity, no cruelty which he would not practise. It was not only the Saxons who hated and feared him; the Normans were also not immune from his cruelty.

  Henry said, ‘I will not allow, such practices to persist in my realm. I intend to make this country one where just laws will prevail. Those who disobey them will be punished, and severely; and I will not allow men such as Robert of Bellême to practise their evil deeds here.’

  With a party of troops he marched first to Arundel, which had been fortified against him. It was not difficult to take that stronghold. It seemed that those who were holding it for such a master were not sorry to surrender.

  The fortresses of Tickhill and Bridgnorth followed quickly and that left Shrewsbury, which Robert of Bellême himself was holding.

  This was a little more difficult, but Bellême had no doubt lost heart and had realized by this time that Henry of England was not Robert of Normandy. Henry took the castle, and Robert of Bellême was his prisoner.

  The two men faced each other – the triumphant son of the Conqueror and the cruel depraved scion of the most notoriously wicked family in the world.

  Henry despised and hated him. He would have liked to send him to the White Tower, to have inflicted on him the slow torture which he had made so many suffer. But Henry was not hot-headed. He saw a use he could make of this man. He had reduced Normandy to a state of anarchy before he had settled in England and tried to do the same here. If he were sent back to Normandy he could do the same again and it was men such as Robert of Bellême who weakened a country. A weakened Normandy could be very useful to Henry.