The Revolt of the Eaglets - Plaidy Jean (бесплатные полные книги TXT) 📗

How different his life might have been if he could have followed a career in the church which had been what was originally intended for him; but his elder brother had been killed – a simple accident caused when a pig upset his horse by running in front of it – and overnight he became the heir to the throne. He looked back at that frightened boy with pity, but almost immediately Eleanor had been there.

Poor Eleanor, a proud woman, now a prisoner! Had she remained true to her first husband that would never have been her fate. No matter what Eleanor had done he would never have put her into confinement as Henry had done. Henry was a hard and ruthless man; and now he was coming to see him.

Louis loved his children. Sometimes he thought how happy he might have been if he could have been a simple nobleman with his family living around him. As it was he saw little of them. There were necessarily political marriages for all of them; and now what was all this mystery about Alice? She must be more English than French by now; he had not seen her since she was a child. And there was Marguerite who would one day be Queen of England; and with Alice her sister married to young Henry’s brother, there would be such strong ties between France and England that surely there would be peace.

He was concerned about Marguerite now for her child was due and must be born any moment. He was pleased that she was brought to bed in Paris. He could see her and his grandchild when it arrived, and he could make sure that everything was done for her comfort.

He was fond too of his son-in-law who was so different from his father. There had been rumours lately of young Henry’s preoccupation with those extravagant tournaments which were so fashionable, but all young men loved to amuse themselves. He believed he was a faithful husband and since Marguerite seemed happy with him, he was content.

A messenger arrived to tell him that Marguerite’s child was born and that it was a boy.

He was delighted. He would go to see her. News must be sent to the King of England. This was a further bond between them.

Marguerite’s son was christened William after the most illustrious of his ancestors – the Conqueror.

Alas, the child was puny and after living three days, in spite of every effort to save him, the little boy died.

On arriving in Normandy Henry was met by his two sons Henry and Geoffrey.

He embraced Henry warmly, expressed his regrets over the death of the child, and waited for the appropriate moment to warn him against devoting too much time to pleasure. He was surprised, he told him, that he had not stayed with Richard to help him in his campaign. Henry’s answer to that was that Richard did not care for aid. He liked to be the supreme commander and it was difficult for a king to take orders from a duke, and that duke his younger brother.

‘I trust,’ the King replied, ‘that you are not deeply in debt.’

Henry’s mouth was sullen as he replied: ‘It is necessary for me to live in some state.’

The King had no wish to quarrel with his sons. The desire to be on good terms with them was great, longing as he did for their love and loyalty, but he was too astute not to know that they would turn against him should the opportunity arise.

Well, he had Alice and he was going to keep Alice. No one was going to take her from him.

He instructed Geoffrey on what should be done in Brittany and sent him off to begin operations there, and when Geoffrey had left Richard joined them.

There was a young man with whom he could talk sensibly on the strategy of war. Richard had done well in Aquitaine. But how different they were! Richard was a cold man. Henry had heard stories that he was not above a little debauchery now and then but he never lost sight of the objective. He was not like young Henry who might lose an advantage in battle because he wanted to make sport in a tournament.

They talked long of the difficulties of subduing and governing Aquitaine. ‘They regard me as a stranger,’ said Richard, ‘that is the trouble. They fear me. When I arrive in a town the trouble-makers disperse, but they call me your son rather than my mother’s. I have tried to assure them that I am against her imprisonment but they do not accept that.’

The King grunted. He was angry with Richard for raising this point but he knew it to be true.

‘If you can subdue them, then that is good.’

‘They are not like the English,’ said Richard. ‘They must be considered from a different point of view. They love pleasure; they want to sing and dance and dream in the sun.’

‘Then it should not be difficult to keep them in order.’

‘They work in subtle ways. They arouse the anger of the people through their poetry. They sing songs of their Duchess lying fretting in her cell.’

‘Nonsense! She has her servants and is well looked after in Salisbury. The only restriction is that she cannot leave to go about setting people against me.’

‘They don’t believe this. In the songs she is represented as the poor prisoner. They set her behind prison bars in those songs and you are represented as the tyrant who inflicts humiliation and torment.’

‘Then make songs to tell the truth.’

‘The prisoner is a better subject for pity than the jailer.’

‘A plague on their song-making. Make them aware of the sword.’

‘I have done so, Father, and have brought about a kind of compromise, but always there will be rebellions. Always the poets will sing of the wrongs of their beloved Duchess. Release her. Send her back to Aquitaine.’

‘To conspire with the King of France against me? Never!’

Richard shrugged his shoulders. ‘There will never be peace in Aquitaine while my mother is your prisoner,’ he said.

This was true; and with this uneasy thought Henry went on for his meeting with Louis.

Poor Louis, thought Henry. He was showing his age. He had never been much of a man in Henry’s estimation, but now he was really feeble.

He was clearly surprised that Henry should have come to see him and was very suspicious as to what this could mean. He believed that it had something to do with the betrothal of Richard to Alice, about which he was beginning to think there was clearly some mystery.

Henry had sent Richard back to Aquitaine, for he did not want him to be present during the negotiations with Louis about the marriage, and Richard being such a fine figure of a man would bring home the point that there could not be any reason on his side why the marriage should not take place immediately.

It was disconcerting to find that Louis had assembled a cardinal and some of his leading bishops. Clearly they were going to attempt to force him to agree to the celebration of the marriage without delay.

He was in a very delicate position and he needed every bit of astuteness to avoid the issue. Of one thing he was certain: he was not going to let Alice go.

He embraced Louis as king to king and then did homage as Duke of Normandy to his vassal lord.

They talked sadly of their lost grandson and immediately after that the subject of Alice and Richard was raised and everyone waited to hear Henry’s objections to the match.

Objections? The tawny eyebrows were raised, the nostrils flared. The lion was benevolent in his surprise. But of course the marriage would take place. Were not Richard and Alice betrothed?

‘There has been much delay,’ Louis reminded him.

‘My dear brother,’ answered Henry with a smile, ‘the Princess Alice is young still. As for my son he has his Dukedom of Aquitaine to protect. He has scarcely been in England for some time.’

‘But he is of age to be a husband and the Princess is no longer a child.’