The Heart of the Lion - Plaidy Jean (читать книги бесплатно полностью без регистрации сокращений txt) 📗

‘Then brother, should not the ceremony take place before you sail?’

‘Nay, I must have a public wedding and I cannot have it during Lent, and as I must leave Sicily before Lent is over I clearly cannot marry here.’

‘Could you not tarry a few more days?’

‘Nay, sister, I have already tarried too long.’

‘Then there will be no wedding here! Poor Berengaria, she will be so disappointed.’

‘Berengaria will understand that I am engaged on a crusade.’

‘Perhaps a quiet ceremony . . .’

Richard’s eyes had grown a little cold. Joanna had begun to notice that this was what happened when he was displeased and she had learned it was a warning to stop pressing the matter under discussion.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘we must needs wait. It means that you and Berengaria will not be able to travel in the same vessel since you will not be married.’

‘I shall know what custom demands, sister. You may safely leave such matters to me.’

She was disturbed. Richard was certainly no eager bridegroom. She remembered that her mother had told of his coronation which had taken place on the third of September which everyone knew was a date to avoid, yet he had not been superstitious then. It was not as though he did not know at that time that he was going on a crusade. Why should he be so concerned about marrying in Lent when surely a quiet wedding, in such unusual circumstances, could not have offended Heaven?

Joanna had begun to think that there could be only one reason.

Richard was so eager to postpone his wedding that he sought any excuse for doing so.

In the middle of holy week they set sail.

Crowds had gathered to watch the ships depart, for it was a magnificent sight as the two hundred vessels left the harbour and started their journey eastwards.

The three ships which were in the lead, equipped for battle, their towers being raised above the decks so that they could with ease fire on enemy ships, were known as Dromones. In one of these ships the King’s treasure was carried; in another were Berengaria and Joanna. The third, like the others, carried armaments and was prepared to go to the defence of any of the fleet should the occasion arise when it would be needed. These three were followed by thirteen troopships – the busses, two-masted vessels with strong firm sails. Richard brought up the rear with his war galleys – long slim ships equipped with rows of oars.

Berengaria and Joanna side by side on the deck could not help but be thrilled by the spectacle. The crowds on the shore were relieved to see the departure of an army which had brought trouble with it.

Berengaria, suffering from disappointment because their wedding had not taken place, was thinking how much happier she would have been had she been travelling in Richard’s ship; Joanna had comforted her but it was bewildering after all this time to be still unmarried. It was true that it might have been wrong to have married during Lent, but why did they have to leave on the Wednesday before Easter Day? Surely they could have waited four more days since Richard had been so long in Sicily? If it were not for the fact that she knew Richard was such an honourable man she would have had very uneasy doubts.

However Joanna was beside her and a very warm friendship was growing up between them.

‘Are you not thrilled, Berengaria,’ she asked now, ‘to be sailing with Richard’s fleet?’

‘Oh yes, but I wish we were in his ship.’

‘My dear sister, and you not married to him! That would be most improper and quite out of the question.’

‘We could have been married . . .’

Joanna put her arm through Berengaria’s. ‘It seems so to us, but how can we know all that is in Richard’s mind? It was so with my husband. He was a ruler and sometimes he acted in a manner which was strange to me. When we are married to men who hold high office we must be patient, for things are not always what they seem.’

Berengaria nodded gravely. ‘You are right, of course. How beautiful the island looks from the sea!’

‘And let us thank God for calm seas. We shall be in Acre very soon.’

They were both silent thinking of the Holy Land and the desperate battles that were going on and had been for so many years. Berengaria and Joanna were both convinced that Richard would be the one to save that land for Christianity.

Good Friday dawned. A strong wind had arisen and was sending the louring clouds scudding across the sky. Richard following his fleet in his galleys spoke on the enormous trumpet which carried his voice to the leading vessels.

‘A storm will break at any moment. Keep within hailing distance.’

They would do their best, but with the firmest of wills how could that be achieved in such a storm? Rarely had Richard encountered such violence. The sails were useless against the mighty wind and Richard’s voice, shouting through the trumpet, could not carry beyond his own deck. He realised that his fleet would be scattered. Briefly he wondered what was happening to Berengaria and Joanna. If their ship was wrecked they would drown, but an even worse fate might befall them if they were washed up on an alien shore.

Peering through the rain, battling against the wind, calling encouragement to his men he endeavoured to raise the spirits of the crusaders who had come to the conclusion that there must be some among them who had incurred God’s displeasure to such an extent that He wasn’t pacified even by their vow to undertake a crusade.

‘We are lost,’ said one of his men.

‘’Tis not so,’ cried Richard. ‘We will weather the storm.’

‘The rest of the fleet, Sire . . . they are lost!’

‘They will battle their way to Acre never fear . . . or perhaps they will await us in Cyprus. We shall come safely through this storm, I promise you. All we must do is wait for the wind to drop.’

‘God is against us,’ was the despairing cry.

‘Nay,’ replied Richard. ‘He but seeks to test us. If we are to have His help in taking the Holy Land we must show ourselves worthy. This storm is sent to test us. We shall come through. The Grey Monks will be praying for us now. They promised me they would do this in our need and God must answer their prayers.’

His words had a sobering effect, or it might have been that quality in him that made all men feel that he was unconquerable, for a calmness settled on the men. The fleet was scattered; their ship was being buffeted by the wind; the oars were useless and it seemed that at any moment the waves would engulf them; but their leader was Richard, and he was certain that they would come through. He had a mission and was convinced that he would not die until he had achieved it.

Such was the power of his personality that he could make men believe this even as he did himself, so that they overcame their fears and went about their work calmly with the certainty that they would survive.

When in the night the wind dropped, a great shout went up from the decks of the King’s ship: ‘The storm is over.’

Richard shouted through his trumpet: ‘All follow me. I shall light the way we are to go.’

He had a large lantern placed on the ship and ordered that by night this should always be lighted so that the other ships could see where he was.

In a few hours the wind had become light, and billowing the sails favourably, and the ship went on without further mishap into Crete, there to discover what havoc the storm had wrought and how many of the ships were lost. It was now the Wednesday following Easter day so he had been a week at sea.

To Richard’s horror he discovered that the vessel which contained his royal treasure and that in which Berengaria and Joanna were travelling were not among those which had come through the storm to Crete.