The Follies of the King - Plaidy Jean (электронная книга TXT) 📗

recalled to join Edward’s army and that means that he can no longer be the custodian of the prisoner king. Come, my dear, tell me whose charge my

tiresome husband should be put into.’

Mortimer was thoughtful. Then he put his arm about the Queen and kissed

her lips.

‘As usual you are right,’ he said. ‘We must be watchful. Lancaster is too

close to him. First we will remove him from Kenilworth. Let the King call

Lancaster to confer on the Scottish expedition. I have it. My daughter’s husband Thomas Berkeley shall be the jailer. My daughter’s husband will wish to please me. Edward shall be taken to Berkeley Castle. I can promise you that he will not be treated there as an honoured guest.’

‘As usual, gentle Mortimer, you succeed in calming my fears.’

‘Then,’ said Mortimer, ‘this coming day I shall set this thing in motion. Our prisoner shall be sent to a more rigorous prison where he will find jailers not in the least inclined to be his friends.’

The Queen said: ‘He deserves no kindness. He humiliated me bitterly for

many years. If you but knew?’

‘My love, my love, I know full well. He turned from the most beautiful

woman in the world to his despicable boys. But it is all over now, Isabella.

Sometimes I wonder whether we could have known the fullness of our joy in

each other if we had not had to wait for it.’

She was ready to be soothed, to be made love to.

She exulted in Mortimer.

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Edward was glad that the winter was over. His cousin had seen that he did

not suffer too much from the cold as he might well have done. In the chamber where they met and played chess there was always a great fire and there were furs for Edward’s bed and others in which to wrap bimself when the wind

whistled about the castle walls.

Lancaster was changing, growing fond of his captive. He was beginning to

ask himsehf whether it had been such a good exchange of rulers after all. Even in Kenilworth there came rumours of Mortimer’s arrogance, of the blatant

manner in which he and the Queen openly lived in adultery. Mortimer was not only the most powerful man in the land, he was fast becoming the richest.

Avarice had been the downfall of both Gaveston and the Despensers. But here was as greedy and grasping a man as had ever gone before.

The more dissatisfied Lancaster grew with the Queen and her paramour the

more sympathetic he became towards his pathetic prisoner.

One May day when he had risen from his bed he found that visitors had

arrived at the castle. He received them immediately for they came from the court. He was quickly informed that the King wished him to prepare to leave Kenilworth and join him in London. His counsel was needed with regard to the Scottish campaign.

Lancaster was surprised. ‘What of my prisoner?’ he asked. ‘Am I to bring

him with me?’

Nay, was the answer. Within the next few days Sir Thomas Berkeley and Sir

John Maltravers would be arriving at the castle. They would take over the Earl of Lancaster’s duties.

Lancaster nodded slowly.

He had known that at some time Edward would be taken out of his charge.

He did not greatly care for the task which lay before him of informing

Edward that they were to part.

He looked with compassion on the tall thin figure— now almost gaunt, with

the dark shadows under the faded blue eyes.

‘Thomas, cousin,’ murmured Edward, ‘they are going to take me away from

you.’

‘It was to be expected,’ said Lancaster. I have my duties. I am to join the King.’

Edward closed his eyes and the lines of despair were obvious about his

mouth. Then he opened them and the stark fear in them deeply disturbed

Lancaster.

‘It is because you have been too kind to me,’ he said fiercely.

‘I am told the King commands me to join him.’

‘And we know who commands the King.’

‘It may be that you will enjoy a change of castles.’

‘Who, cousin?’

‘Berkeley. Thomas Berkeley.’

‘Did he not marry Mortimer’s daughter?’

‘I think that was so.’

‘You see, cousin. I am to be put with my enemies. Berkeley! He was no

friend of mine.’

‘His lands were confiscated,’ said Lancaster. ‘I beleive they were bestowcd on Hugh le Despenser.’

Edward shuddered. ‘No friend of mine,’ he murmured. ‘And they will take

me from here.’

‘To Berkeley Castle, I doubt not.’

‘Oh cousin, do not go. Do not leave me. Let us stay here together. You have made life bearable for me here.’

‘My dear lord, I must obey the King.’

‘I am your King, Thomas.’

But Lancaster shook his head sadly, and silence fell between them. It was

Edward who broke it. ‘Maltravers did you say?’ he asked.

‘Sir John Maltravers. A natural choice because he married Berkeley’s

sister.’

Edward shook his head. ‘Another traitor? to me. He fled from England and

joined the Queen in France.’

‘It is hardly likely, my lord, that they would choose your friends.’

‘Oh, cousin, a great foreboding bas descended on me.’

‘It is the thought of change.’

‘Nay, cousin. Here I have accepted my fate. I have grown accustomed to

your company which has become very agreeable to me. And now? and now?

I feel closing in on me, cousin? a darkness, a horror?’

‘My lord, it is this sudden shock. All will be well. When you first came here we were not such friends? In time you and Berkeley and Maltravers?’

Edward shook his head.

‘Oh, cousin,’ he said, ‘pray God to help me.’

Lancaster took Edward’s hand and knelt and kissed it and it was as though

Edward had become his king again.

‘I shall pray for you, my lord. Be of good cheer. It may well be that life will be good to you yet.’

But Edward continued to shakc his head. The deepest melancholy had

settied upon him.

Lancaster had gone and his new custodians had arrivcd. Maltravers was

outwardly insolent, Berkley almost shamefacedly so, as though he could not stop himself remembering that this poor emaciated man had once been his King.

‘Rouse yourself,’ said John Maltravers. ‘There is a journey to be made

forthwith. Should he be bound with ropes, think you, Thomas?’

‘Let be,’ replied Berkeley. ‘He is hardly in fit state to run away from us.’

He who had once been a king before whom men bowed was now talked of

in his presence as though he were a piece of merchandise to be moved

whichever way suited his possessors. Humiliation indeed! But he was beyond humiliation. The terrible fear which had come to him when Lancaster had told him he was going would not leave him. He feared these men.

To Berkeley Castle they rode. How different it looked from when he had last seen it. Then he had ridden in as the King and there pageants and festivities greeted him. How different now! Gloomy! Foreboding! An impulse came to him to shout that he would not enter. Let them kill him here? on the spot. He would not go inside that stone-walled fortress. His whole being cried out against it. He wanted to turn back to Kenilworth, to beg them to send his cousin Lancaster back to him.

Maltravers jerked his head as he might to a groom.

‘Why the hesitation?’ he cried. ‘You waste our time, Edward Plantagenet.’

How they loved to show him that he who had once been their King was no

longer of account!

He entered the outer court and went under the machiolated gatehouse. He

wondered if he would ever come out a free man.

His horse was taken from him— a poor miserable creature to denote his

state and the contrast between it and the steeds ridden by his captors was pathetic. Maltravers laid ungentle hands on him and hustled him forward. ‘This way,’ he muttered.

High-born Lancaster had never shown him such disrespect. He must now