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

As she rode along she contemplated the fact that there was always danger when a king died. It could never be certain how the people would feel towards his successor. To the Conqueror’s descendants England had been an uneasy inheritance largely because the possession of lands overseas had demanded their presence abroad. The English naturally did not like to be neglected. Henry’s life had been spent between England and France and because his possessions in France had been so much more difficult to hold owing to the presence of the Franks on his very borders, he had been more often there than in England.

The people must accept Richard. She had few qualms that they would. If ever man had the appearance of a king that man was Richard. How different he was from his slovenly father who had thrown on his clothes in a disorderly way and looked like a peasant, who never wore riding gloves and because he was out in all weathers had skin like leather. Yet he had won the respect of his people. But how much more readily would they follow a man who looked like a king.

Riding into the cities she sent for the leading citizens. She knew that the greatest resentment which was held against the late King and his predecessors was due to the infliction of the old forest laws. The Norman kings had been fanatical about their hunting grounds. Henry Plantagenet had been equally fierce. So great was their passion for hunting that they had spared nothing nor anyone in the pursuit of it. On the whole Henry had been a popular king but in the forest areas he had been hated. He had set up officers in forest regions to act as custodians and no one living near was allowed to cut down trees or to keep dogs or bows and arrows. Anyone discovered disobeying these laws was punished in such a dreadful manner that death would have been preferable. Hands, feet, tongues, noses and ears were cut off and eyes put out. The punishment for performing any act which might detract in the smallest way from the King’s hunting pleasures was mutilation.

Yet Henry, shrewd as he was, eager to placate a people who must be left under a substitute ruler for long periods of time, knowing that these measures were the source of great unpopularity, would do nothing to repeal them. Hunting was one of the major passions of his life and like his forebears he intended to indulge it in ideal conditions.

Contemplating that passion now Eleanor reflected once more that although her late husband had been a man of great ability he had had many weaknesses.

‘The game laws,’ she announced, ‘are harsh and cruel. The new King will wish to change them. To begin with in his name I shall release all those who are awaiting punishment under those laws. There is one thing I ask of those who have regained their freedom and that is: Pray for his soul.’

Those who had been saved from a terrible fate, those who had been living as outlaws and could now return to their families were very ready to do as Eleanor asked.

‘It must be understood,’ she said, ‘that this clemency comes from King Richard and while he wishes those who have been condemned under unjust laws to go free, he cannot countenance the release of those who have committed crimes against other laws.’

A great cry of approval went up and Eleanor knew that the freeing of those who had offended against the game laws had been a wise move.

‘I command now,’ she said, ‘that every freeman of the kingdom swear that he will bear faith to King Richard, son of King Henry and Queen Eleanor, for the preservation of life, limbs and terrene honour, as his liege lord, against all living; and that he will be obedient to his laws and assist him in the preservation of peace and justice.’

The new King was hailed with enthusiasm.

Eleanor had done her work well; and when news was brought to her that Richard had arrived in England she hastened back to Winchester to be ready to receive him.

She had assembled all the nobility in Winchester. Perhaps the most important was Ranulph de Glanville who had been her custodian in the castle during the years of her imprisonment. She bore him no ill will; he had always treated her with due respect and the fact that he had guarded against her escape meant that he was obeying his master. As the chief Justiciar of England and a man of immense talents Eleanor believed that his support would be of help to the new King.

Each day people were thronging into Winchester as Richard’s arrival grew imminent. Eleanor was not sure whether her son John would come with his brother. They had been in Normandy together but it was possible that they might take different routes home. This proved to be the case.

What a wonderful moment it was for the Queen when she beheld her beloved son riding at the head of his entourage, a magnificent sight, enough to delight any mother’s eyes.

The meeting was an emotional one and when Richard embraced her she knew that this was one of the happiest moments of her life. She was free after more than sixteen years of captivity; her son – the best loved of her children – was King of England and his first thoughts on coming to the crown were for her. She loved dearly and was loved with equal fervour.

‘Mother!’ he cried.

‘My son, my King,’ she answered, her voice shaken with emotion.

There could be no doubt of his kingliness. He excelled in all manly pastimes. It had been so since the days of his boyhood. He was very tall, having the long arms and legs of his Norman ancestors as well as their blonde good looks; his hair was auburn, his eyes deep blue and he had more than mere good looks; his grace of carriage, his kingly air were unsurpassed, and in any company of men he would have been selected as the King.

She was weak with pride – she who was usually so strong and rarely a prey for her emotions! This was the son whom she had reared and she had recognised his superior qualities from his babyhood; they had been the allies and had stood together against his father and the bastard Geoffrey who had been brought into the royal nursery. He had been her boy from the day he was born and the bond, she fervently prayed, would be severed only by death.

‘How my heart rejoices to see you here,’ she said.

‘There was much to be done across the sea before I could come.’

‘Your subjects have been prepared to welcome you.’

‘Mother, I know you have done good work for me.’

‘I trust I shall never do aught but good work for you, my son.’

He scowled when Ranulph de Glanville approached to pay the homage, which he received coldly. Eleanor smiled realising that Richard was thinking of this man as his mother’s jailer. She must make him understand the importance of Glanville. He must not make an enemy of such a man. There would be much of which she must warn him, and she hoped he loved her enough to let her guide him.

‘Let us make our way to the castle,’ she said. ‘There shall be such feasting and revelry as is becoming to the arrival of the King.’

‘There is much we must talk of.’

‘Much indeed.’

‘How it rejoices me that you are here beside me. It will lighten my lot. You will care for matters here while I am away.’

Her happiness was tinged with apprehension. When he was away? But of course he would have to be away. His dominions were widely spread. That must be what he meant.

She dismissed her fears and gave herself up to the pleasure of seeing homage done to him as he entered the castle. How nobly he accepted it! She noticed how people looked at him.

There never could have been a man who looked so much a king.

To be alone with him, to talk to him of secret matters, to share his confidences, that was a great joy to her.

‘Your coronation must take place immediately,’ she advised. ‘Once a king is crowned he is in truth a king; before that . . .’ She lifted her shoulders.