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

He was aware of her and without taking his eyes from the walls he said: ‘’Tis you then?’

‘This room has changed since I knew it long ago.’

‘I have had it newly painted.’

‘And you admire it evidently.’

‘Come and look at this picture.’

She went and stood beside him. ‘An eagle and four eaglets,’ she said.

‘Yes. Look closer. See how the young prey on the old bird. Do you see anything familiar in their faces?’

She turned to look at him and she saw the glaze of tears in his eyes.

Henry Plantagenet in tears! It was impossible.

‘I am the eagle,’ he said. ‘The four eaglets are my sons.’

‘You have caused this picture to be painted.’

He nodded. ‘I look at it often. See how they prey upon me. My three sons, Henry, Richard and Geoffrey. And see the fourth poised on my neck. That is John. I tell you this, that he, the youngest, the one I love so tenderly, is waiting for the moment when his brothers have laid me low; then he will pluck out my eyes.’

‘I am surprised that you torment yourself with such a picture.’

‘There must be somewhere where I face the truth. I feign to believe them. I am their father. I have been over-tolerant with them. I let them deceive me and I deceive myself that they must love me because they are my own sons.’

‘You should never have put a crown on Henry’s head.’

‘I know it well.’

‘You did it to spite Thomas of Canterbury. You wanted a coronation in which he should not partake.’

‘Yes. But I did it too because I feared God might take me in battle and I wanted no bloodshed. I wished it to be that when the King died, there was a new King ready waiting.’

‘It was a foolish act.’

‘Unworthy of a shrewd king,’ he agreed. ‘And here I look at this picture and face the truth.’

‘It is not too late. Trust your sons. Take Richard to your heart. He is your heir. Give him the power he needs.’

‘That he might take my crown from me?’

‘He will not take it until it is right and proper for him to do so.’

‘The eaglets are impatient,’ he said.

‘Because the eagle has kept them in the nest too long.’

‘You turned them against me,’ he accused. ‘You are the source of all my troubles.’

‘Had you been the husband I wanted, I would have loved you to the end.’

‘You wanted to rule.’

‘Aye. We both wanted it.’

‘And between us we bred the eaglets.’

He turned away at the door and looked back at her.

‘This painting will be copied and I shall have it in my chamber at Windsor. There I shall look at it often and I shall remember.’ His voice shook slightly and he said suddenly: ‘Oh, God, Eleanor, why was it not different? What would I not give just for one loving son.’

Then he was gone. She listened to the sound of his stick on the stone flags.

She laughed quietly. Poor Henry, the great king, the seducer of women, the lover whom none could resist. He had failed where she had succeeded for she had one son who loved her.

THE CURSE OF HERACLIUS

News reached the King at Winchester that Heraclius, the Patriarch of Jerusalem, had arrived at Canterbury and that he had made the journey to England to impart news to him which he was sure would urge Henry to action.

Fearing what the visit meant, Henry could make no excuse to avoid seeing the Patriarch for his subjects must never doubt that he was a deeply religious man. He remembered with misgivings that at the time of the murder of Thomas a Becket he had taken an oath to go to Jerusalem on a crusade. He had vaguely thought he might go when his kingdom was in a fit state to be left, knowing deep in his heart that it never would be.

Now here was the Patriarch and there could be but one reason for his coming. He would be wanting to raise men or money for the preservation of the Holy City. Eager to hear what news he had brought Henry immediately granted an interview to Heraclius and Roger du Moulin, the Grand Master of the Hospitallers, who had accompanied him. The Patriarch’s first action was to offer the King the keys of Jerusalem and the Holy Sepulchre.

‘I bring ill news,’ cried Heraclius. ‘Queen Sybil of Jerusalem craves your help. Her son who is but a child is the heir to the crown and her brother Baldwin is close to death. He is sick of leprosy and his flesh is shrivelling from his bones fast. He cannot live long and the Saracens are ready to take the Holy City. It must be saved and Queen Sybil implores you to come to her aid.’

‘We shall certainly give her aid,’ said the King. ‘I will levy a tax without delay for this is a very worthy purpose.’

‘It is not money that is needed. It is a prince to lead an army against the Saracens. You are the man, oh, King, for at the time of the death of Thomas a Becket you swore that you would go to the Holy City.’

Oh, Thomas, thought Henry, shall I never escape from you? I did my penance. Was that not enough?

It was true that he had taken such an oath, but he had meant of course when the time was ripe and he had always known that the time would never be ripe. How could he, a king with far-flung dominions, ever leave them to go to the Holy Land?

‘You are the most powerful of kings,’ went on Heraclius. ‘God will bless you if you do this. If not …’

The King said quickly: ‘To leave my dominions would be a matter not so much for me to decide but for my ministers. I should first be obliged to ask their opinion. If they considered that I should go, then go I should. But it may be that they would be against it and I must needs bide by their decision.’

‘Why so, my lord? You are a king who makes his own decisions. The whole world knows it. None would dare go against your will.’

‘Nay, a king governs through the grace of his people. Rest assured I shall do all in my power to meet your wishes. The Holy Land must not be allowed to fall to the Infidel. Allow me to put this matter to my ministers and I will give you their answer.’

‘My lord, you should not let your response depend upon them. You should remember the oath you took. You should remember your duty to God. You are no longer a young man. You may be closer than you think to the throne of judgement.’

What an uncomfortable man this Heraclius was! Henry disliked him. As if he had not enough with which to concern himself without bringing this up to plague him. He was not going to Jerusalem. How could he? He could imagine the chaos which would ensue if he did. His sons at each other’s throats and at his. Eleanor who must be watched! Certainly he could not leave.

He insisted that he would put the matter to a council which he would call at once.

This he did, letting them know first that they would be brought together to discuss whether or not he was to raise an army to go and fight a crusade for the Holy City; and he made it clear that if any of them should vote for his departure they would forfeit his favour. They had to decide that on no condition could he leave his dominions and that to do so now would be to act against the wishes of God.

Eleanor was amused when she heard. She understood him so well. Go to Jerusalem! Leave Alice! Endeavour to wash away his sins! Nay, she thought, they are too numerous for that. He would need twenty such missions.

Would he go? Of course he would not. Odd as it was, although he had spent most of his life near battlefields, he was not enamoured of the fight. He had ever held that battles were wasteful and rarely brought the victor what he had been fighting for. It was so much better to discuss and manoeuvre one’s enemy into a bargain. He was adept at making bargains which proved to be advantageous to himself.