The Queen From Provence - Plaidy Jean - Страница 30

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‘Henry my son, there is something we must talk of. It will be different here … now that your mother has … gone away. You will miss her so I am going to take you away for a while.’

‘With you?’ cried Henry.

‘Nay. I am going to fight the Saracens. I have long planned to do this but have been delayed again and again. Now I shall go.’

‘I could come with you and fight the Saracens.’

‘You have to grow up before you can do that. But perhaps you will one day. But first there is much to be done, and I am going to take you to London and there you will be in the King’s palace. You see he is your uncle and there comes a time when we who belong to the Court must be of it.’

‘Is that King Henry?’

‘It is indeed. Your uncle King Henry, who has heard much of you and would welcome you at his Court.’

‘What should I do at his Court, father?’

‘Much as you do here. Take lessons, play games, learn to joust and tilt, study the laws of chivalry, become a knight worthy of your birth and standing.’

Henry listened attentively.

‘Then I shall come back and by then my mother will be here.’

Richard did not answer. It was as well, as yet, to let the boy think that his mother’s departure was not permanent.

‘We shall set out tomorrow for the King’s Court,’ he said. ‘You will like that, little son. You and I will ride together. You are going out into the world.’

Henry thought he would like it. He wished his mother was coming with them; but in time he would come back and tell her all about it. That would be something to which he could look forward.

The King was something of a disappointment to young Henry. He was a little frightening because one eye was half hidden and the boy could not stop looking at it. The Queen was different. She was beautiful and smiling and he loved her at once.

‘This is my son,’ said Richard.

The King bent over him and said: ‘Welcome, nephew, to the Court.’

The Queen knelt down and put her arms about him. She kissed him and, overwhelmed by her beauty, Henry put his arms about her neck and kissed her.

‘You are the most beautiful lady I ever saw,’ he said.

A diplomat already? thought Richard. There was nothing the boy could have said which would have better pleased the King or the Queen.

Eleanor had taken his hand and sitting down on the ornate chair beside the King’s, put her arm about the boy.

‘You are going to stay at our Court, Henry. Do you think you will like that?’

‘Will you be there?’ he asked.

‘Oh yes, I … and the King and our little son. You must meet our little son, Henry. You and he are going to be such friends.’

‘What sort of horse does he ride?’

‘He is too little as yet to ride at all. You will have to be patient with him, Henry.’

Henry nodded. ‘Is he only a baby?’

‘Only a baby,’ said the Queen. She looked at her husband. ‘Let us take Henry to the nursery so that he can meet his cousin.’

Still holding his hand they went, his father and the King following. And there in a cradle lay a baby whom the Queen picked up with great care, indicating to Henry that she thought him very precious indeed.

‘Come look, Henry. This is your little cousin, Edward. Is he not a beautiful baby?’

Secretly Henry did not find babies beautiful but he said nothing as he did not want to contradict the Queen.

‘Take his hand, Henry,’ said the Queen. ‘Gently. Remember he is but a baby. There. Now say: Edward I will be your friend.’

‘Can I be friends with such a little baby?’ asked Henry.

‘He won’t be a baby always. He’ll grow up very quickly, then you won’t notice that he is younger than you. Come. Say it. Say you will be his friend.’

‘I will be your friend … if I like you,’ said Henry.

Everyone laughed and the King said fondly: ‘Our nephew is too young yet to swear fealty.’

‘Kiss his hand,’ insisted the Queen.

Henry took the baby’s hand and kissed it.

And the Queen seemed satisfied.

He was then given to the nurses who were told that he would stay in the royal household until such time as his father wished him to depart. As there were other boys of noble families living at Court – after the custom – no one was very surprised to see the son of the Earl of Cornwall among them.

Richard went away to make his last preparations for the crusade with the conviction that Isabella’s death had really been a happy release not only for herself but for her son and husband.

A SOJOURN IN PROVENCE

The King accompanied Richard to Dover where on a hot June day he set sail for the Continent. Among those who left with him was Peter de Mauley who had been his old tutor and governor in the days of his childhood at Corfe Castle. Many distinguished knights, eager to win honours and a remission of their sins in the Holy War, formed his company. So it was an impressive party that left the castle to take ship for France.

The King watched the departure with mixed feelings. He could not in honesty say that he wished he were going with them. The thought of leaving Eleanor and their son filled him with horror. Of course Eleanor might have accompanied him as his grandmother Eleanor of Acquitaine had once gone with her first husband to the Holy Land and created such a scandal there that it had never been forgotten. But little Edward could certainly not have gone and one of the great joys of Henry’s life was to slip away into the nursery and gaze at that wonderful child with the perfect limbs and the healthful looks – his son, who would one day be King of England.

Moreover he was glad to have Richard out of the country. He knew that Richard disapproved of much that he did and that chiefly he objected to the favour he showed to foreigners – foreigners being Eleanor’s relations and retainers.

As if they were foreigners! Dear Uncle William now dead. How Eleanor had loved him! He was glad he had been able to show his appreciation to him before he died. And he was going to do all he could for Uncle Thomas and it was now being suggested that her Uncle Boniface would come over to England too.

She was delighted. The uncles had been a part of her childhood. Little gave her as much pleasure as to receive them in England and show them how happy she was in her marriage. And since it delighted her, he also was delighted.

But some of the killjoys in his kingdom wanted to spoil that – and he feared Richard was one of them. He had said before he left that the Bishop of Reading was deeply disturbed by the intrusion of the Queen’s relations and had urged him not to leave England at this time.

‘Why not? Why not?’ Henry demanded.

‘Because,’ Richard had said, ‘he fears that the barons are growing more and more displeased by these foreigners coming here.’

‘Why should they not come here?’ Henry had asked. ‘They are my wife’s relations.’

‘If they merely came that would give little offence. The point is that when they are here they proceed to fill their pockets and take that which by rights belongs to Englishmen. If they leave – as in the case of the Bishop Elect of Valence – they certainly do not go empty-handed.’

‘I am surprised,’ Henry had said piously, ‘that you can speak ill of the dead.’

‘I trust I speak the truth of anyone … dead or alive,’ had been Richard’s retort.

He had gone on the crusade though and Henry was not going to let himself be disturbed by the vague murmurings of the barons. It was a great pity they had ever been allowed to produce Magna Carta which had given them too high an opinion of their own power.

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