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The Lion of Justice - Plaidy Jean - Страница 57


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57

A year passed and he was still there. He dared not leave. Messages came from England that all was well under the wise hands of Matilda and Roger. He heard news of the children. Matilda was growing more forceful each day and was undoubtedly Queen of the nurseries; William was gentle, kindly and doing well at his lessons both indoor and outdoor; their cousin Stephen was a charming boy, inclined to be a little lazy at his lessons, but always with a reason for his misdemeanours and such a charming way of delivering it that he was always forgiven. He and young Matilda had become the greatest friends and sometimes the Queen thought it a pity that she was betrothed to the Emperor of Germany for they might have made a match for her with Stephen. Then she could have stayed with them or at least not so far from them. Germany seemed very far away and when the Queen considered that it would not be long before their daughter would have to leave them to go and complete her education in a strange land she was sad. But she did not wish to burden Henry with these domestic details. He would be pleased to know that all was well in England and he need have no qualms about leaving the country while he settled the affairs of Normandy.

* * * * *

Henry could scarcely believe his luck. Trust Louis to be so foolish. Henry could never quite forget that plump boy of about fourteen who had become so incensed when he was beaten at chess. Louis was in difficulties and he wished to call a truce that some sort of conference might take place. His choice of envoy would have been comical if it had not been so utterly stupid. What sort of man did he think Henry was?

When Robert of Belleme stood before him Henry could scarcely believe his eyes.

‘I come from the King of France in good faith and I expect you to show the same.’

Henry, seated in the ornate chair on which he received envoys and which was a kind of throne, looked up into that cruel perverted face. This was the man who had brought misery to thousands, the man whose name had struck terror into innocent people; those eyes had looked on at a thousand indescribable tortures. And now they were fixed on the King of England in a manner which could only be described as insolent.

‘You are bold to come to me, Robert of Belleme.’ said Henry slowly.

‘I come as a mediator.’

‘Whatever you come as you are always my enemy.’ said Henry.

He called to his servants. ‘Arrest this man.’

‘How can you do that? I come as an envoy.’

‘I can do as I will, Robert of Belleme. Have no doubt of that. Once before you were in my hands and unwisely I allowed you to go back to Normandy. What have you done since then? You have worked against me. You will always be my enemy.’

‘I am your enemy.’ said Robert of Belleme. ‘You have robbed me of my lands in England.’

‘I shall now rob you of your vile and filthy pleasures. Let me tell you – you shall never have an opportunity of torturing my subjects whether in Normandy or England...never again.’

Protesting, Robert of Belleme was dragged away. He was put in prison at Cherbourg until such time as he could be taken to England, where he would be doubly secure.

Two of his enemies were removed. First Robert of Flanders and now Robert of Belleme.

‘There is Anjou now.’ said Henry. ‘When he is my prisoner then the King of France will be of a certainty not well served against me.’

This was good fortune, but still he could not leave Normandy and so the government of England remained entrusted to Matilda and her advisers. She was both mother and Queen and often she thought of Henry and wondered what adventures he was having in Normandy. Sometimes in the night she would awaken and think of him and she wondered then who was sharing his bed.

* * * * *

It was almost two years since Henry had left England and he still remained in Normandy. He was eager now to return to England. He was longing for a sight of Matilda and his family. He was weary of the conflict, but although he had had success in Normandy he could see that the final battle was yet to be won. In his heart he wondered whether it ever would be and when he contemplated the future he admitted that before him stretched years of campaigning in Normandy.

There was another stroke of good fortune, or perhaps it should be called strategy, when Alencon fell into his hands. This lay on the borders of Maine, that constant trouble spot, and Fulk of Anjou was obliged to sue for peace.

Maine was forced to recognize the suzerainty of the King of England and believing that the best way of cementing an alliance was through marriage, Henry suggested that Fulk’s daughter—yet another Matilda—should be betrothed to his son William.

This was a dazzling prospect for Fulk. His daughter to be the future Queen of England! True her rich inheritance would pass into the hands of her husband but it was a bait that was irresistible.

The alliance was made, promises were given by parents of the betrothed, and now that Louis of France was denuded of the most powerful of his allies, Henry thought that he might well return to England.

* * * * *

What a joyous homecoming that was!

‘Two years is far too long to be away from my home and family.’ said Henry sentimentally.

Matilda was delighted to see him. She met him at Dover and they rode triumphantly back to Westminster, the people cheering them on the way. The Queen’s piety and goodness to the poor had always been applauded. The King was harsh but he was a good king—as kings went—and he had wiped out the humiliation of the conquest in the minds of the Saxon community by winning victories in Normandy.

‘Welcome to the King of England and the Duke of Normandy.’ they cried.

It was indeed good to be back.

The children had grown. His eyes lingered on William, a goodly boy. He would have to teach him the art of kingship. That would be a pleasure. And Matilda; she was growing handsome and how proudly she held her head and how her eyes flashed!

He said: ‘How is my young empress?’ He spoke ironically, for she was not entitled to the title until the marriage was solemnized. That day was not far off. But Matilda saw nothing ironical. She already saw herself as the Empress.

‘And Stephen, my nephew.’

Stephen bowed gracefully. He was a handsome young fellow and growing fast.

‘Why, Stephen.’ said the King, ‘you will soon be joining me on the battle field.’

‘It cannot be too soon for me, sir.’

‘So you want to be a soldier eh?’

‘I want nothing more than to be at your side and to put an end to all those who are traitors against my lord King.’

‘Well spoken. Very soon then. Next time I go to Normandy I may take you with me. Your brother Theobald gives a good account of himself and that pleases your mother.’

Stephen bowed his head, full of respect for the returned warrior.

The Queen watching thought that Stephen had more grace than her own children. William was perhaps too gentle; Matilda was too proud. Henry would be able to report very favourably on his nephew to his sister Adela.

There was a banquet at which the children were present and the King ate heartily of his favourite dish of lampreys.

Yes, a very pleasant homecoming.

* * * * *

It would be advisable, Henry believed, now that he had returned, to show himself to his subjects. So he arranged with Matilda a succession of tours throughout the country.

They were well received in most places. The only dissatisfaction with Henry was his harsh taxation (which he always declared was necessary if he was going to subdue the rebels of Normandy and prevent England’s being invaded by men such as the cruel Robert of Belleme) and his even harsher forestry laws. The latter Henry’s better judgment warned him to modify but he would not forgo his great passion for the hunt any more than his father could. He needed the exhilaration the chase could give him. He spent much of his life in battle —or he had since the conquest of Normandy—and he must have the only relaxation that meant anything to him: hunting, whether it was the deer, the wild boar or a woman. He was not sure which of these gave him the greater satisfaction, but that satisfaction he must have.

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Plaidy Jean - The Lion of Justice The Lion of Justice
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