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

He turned and waved a piece of silk – a scrap from one of her gowns. He knew she would be watching.

‘Soon he must come back,’ she whispered.

THE DEVIL’S STRAIN

Henry could not help congratulating himself. Louis was dead, and therefore the controversy over Alice’s marriage must necessarily be put aside. He knew of course that it would only be a temporary respite, and that young Philip would probably very soon be wanting to know what was happening to his sister.

But Philip was only a boy, and Henry had already implied that he wished him to look upon him as a father. That he was a headstrong boy was clear, but Henry had an uneasy feeling that when he had a little experience he would not be as weak as his father had been. Henry would have to keep a sharp eye on what was happening in France.

There was news from Aquitaine that there was revolt everywhere. The people wanted Eleanor freed, and sent back there. That should never be.

Sancho of Navarre had sent him a message telling him that he was disturbed by events in Aquitaine and how it was his belief that there would never be peace until Eleanor returned.

He had thanked Sancho for his advice and had told him that although he could not free Eleanor at this time, for Sancho must understand how dangerous to him that would be, he would allow her a little more freedom. For instance if visitors came to England she could come to Court to see them, or they might visit her. But to have her roaming the world free to harm him, was something to which he could not agree.

While he was pondering these matters, a message arrived from the young King of France to tell him that Philip of Flanders had turned traitor and had made a pact with the King’s uncles who were now threatening to march against him and take the throne from him. As Henry had assured him that he might regard him as his father, that was what he was doing now. He begged a father’s help.

Henry smiled. Of course he would help young Philip. The Count of Flanders had too big an idea of himself. There was a man who must be watched.

Henry would send his sons to the aid of the King of France. Young Henry should go with Geoffrey and because military skill would be needed he would send Richard too. Young Philip must be shown that he could trust Henry Plantagenet and then perhaps he would not make demands for the marriage of his sister.

Young Henry arrived in Paris followed shortly by his brothers Richard and Geoffrey.

With Richard came a troubadour warrior, Bertrand de Born. He was the castellan of Hautefort and a man whose reputation as a poet was beginning to equal that of Bernard de Ventadour.

His songs, it was said, were an inspiration to any who were about to go into battle and were considered to be an important part of any campaign.

Young Philip welcomed them warmly and there was a feast in the great hall followed by songs of love and war. Philip had changed already from the petulant boy he had been at the time preceding his father’s death. It was as though a sudden realisation had come to him of the hazards of his position, and he seemed to have grown wise in a few months. He listened intently to Richard’s advice for he realised quickly that Richard was the one who knew how to succeed in battle. None could deny the social graces of the young Henry and Geoffrey too, who was a shadow of his elder brother, but it was Richard whom he needed now.

What a man Richard was with those cold blue eyes and that wonderful light-coloured hair! Most of all he was to be admired for his great stature, and the fact that he was sometimes in the grip of that strange ague rather added to his essential virility.

Philip was attracted by Richard.

While Philip was admiring Richard, Bertrand de Born was watching Henry. Bertrand thought he had never seen such a magnificent specimen of manhood as the young King of England.

Henry was known as the handsomest Prince in Christendom and rightly so. His countenance was as fair as any woman’s; his manners were graceful and charming. He was not a fighter as his brother Richard was. He was a man to win through his charm rather than his sword.

How much better for Aquitaine, thought the troubadour, if Henry had become its Duke instead of Richard.

Richard was animated, talking of the campaign they would wage against Philip of Flanders and the house of Blois.

Philip listened gravely.

‘I give you command,’ he said, ‘for I have complete trust in you.’

He was right to be trustful. They went into action riding side by side and it was as Philip had known it would be. Philip of Flanders, driven to his castle, remained there besieged until he was forced to beg for mercy.

The revolt was put down.

There was no doubt whose military genius was behind this.

Bertrand de Born found an opportunity of talking with Henry.

‘I have written verses to you, my lord. May I have your permission to sing them to you?’

Henry, who could accept any amount of flattery without suspecting an ulterior motive, was ready enough to listen.

He knew he was handsome, but it was pleasant to see himself through the eyes of the poet. The poet was in love with him. That was amusing, but Henry had never been interested in passionate attachments with members of his own sex. He liked women.

Then Bertrand made a remark which immediately caught his attention.

‘How different you are from your brother Richard. The people of Aquitaine will never accept Richard, but they would accept you.’

‘How so?’ asked Henry.

‘If you were their Duke …’

‘I am the Duke of Normandy, Count of Anjou and King of England. Richard was given Aquitaine.’

‘The people of Aquitaine prefer to bestow themselves.’

‘Do you mean they would bestow themselves on me?’

‘If you came to take Aquitaine they would give it to you.’

‘How could I take what is my brother’s?’

‘How can Aquitaine be your brother’s, if the people reject him?’

‘It is my father they reject … and his sons with him.’

‘They do not reject your mother.’

‘Richard is her son. She chose him for this inheritance.’

‘And where is she now? A prisoner! The people would accept you if they were led to it.’

‘Who would lead them?’

‘There is something more powerful than the sword. You may not believe me. But I know that my people are swayed more by poetry than by battle cries.’

‘It could be so.’

‘It shall be so, my lord, if it is your wish.’

Henry was excited. He wanted the thrill of adventure without the discomfort. It would delight him if the people of Aquitaine begged him to come to be their Duke. He would say, ‘What can I do? We must have peace in Aquitaine. The people want me. They are demanding me. They will not have Richard.’ How amusing! Richard who was the great fighter! Richard, who could not keep Aquitaine in order!

Bertrand de Born crept a little nearer and touched Henry’s sleeve.

‘You could try it,’ said Henry.

‘I will do it,’ cried Bertrand de Born. ‘I will have all Aquitaine in arms, demanding that Henry be their Duke.’

Henry hesitated a moment.

‘Why do you do this?’ he asked.

The poet bowed his head. ‘Because I love you,’ he said.

Henry smiled – not entirely displeased.

Philip said to Richard: ‘So now will you go away?’

‘I am needed in Aquitaine.’

‘They are still in revolt against you?’