The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [158]
I could imagine that. Oh, what trouble lay ahead for my arrogant husband, who thought he knew everything and could do so much better than anyone else?
“I am tired of living with him,” said Henry. “I shall come to Aquitaine . . . and one day . . . one day . . . I am going to claim my kingdom.”
Richard came in while he was talking and stood listening, his eyes shining. “He has been cruel to our mother,” he said. “I will stand with you.”
“Then I’ll do it,” said Henry.
There were dreams in his eyes, wild dreams. He would dream rather than achieve, I thought. But I could not help but be pleased by their criticism of their father.
I was looking forward to returning to Poitiers. These meetings with Henry were always disturbing. Our quarrels stimulated me, but during them I would see a cold and calculating light in his eyes as though he had plans for me. I knew he would be capable of anything and that I had to be wary of him.
My son Henry really hated him now. He said: “I will come with you when you leave. I will not stay with my father to be treated like a child.”
He was often with Richard and they talked against the King frequently. It was their favorite topic. They were working up a hatred against him. Young Henry said that several influential people in England were tired of the King’s rule. They talked of the days of Stephen when men were more free. “Free to roam the countryside and be robbed,” I might have said, for wise men should know that Henry’s laws had made the country a safer place to live in. But I could not bring myself to say a good word for my husband.
When the time came for us to depart, there was a scene.
Young Henry said he was coming with us.
“No,” replied the King. “You are mistaken. You are coming with me.”
“I prefer to go with my mother.”
“And I prefer you to stay with me.”
“Why should I . . . ?”
“Because I say so.”
“I am the King.”
“I am the King. You are my son and, if you deserve the honor, in due course you shall wear the crown. But you will have to be tutored for such a position and that is what I am going to do. That is why you will not go to your mother’s Court. You will not be playing in tournaments and pageants, singing and dancing and frittering away your time. You will be learning the art of kingship.”
“I refuse.”
The King laughed. “And I could put you under restraint until you calmed down.”
“You would not dare.”
The King’s eyes had grown steely. He went to Henry and held his arm in such a grip that the boy winced. “There is nothing I will not do to purge you of your folly. You will be under restraint most certainly if you do not take care.”
He could be very formidable, and the boy, though sullen, was afraid of his father.
Richard, Geoffrey and I left for Poitiers without him.
I heard news from time to time.
Young Henry was being recalcitrant, and the King was behaving very sternly toward him. His intimate friends, whom the King did not trust, were dismissed. Henry was not allowed to go out without a guard; he could almost be said to be under arrest.
I could imagine the resentment smoldering. The final outrage was that Henry should sleep in his father’s room.
One day a messenger came to us with news. Young Henry had escaped.
He and his father had reached Chinon. Perhaps the King was growing old and was more exhausted than he used to be by hours in the saddle. They had retired for the night, young Henry sleeping as usual in his father’s room. In the early hours of the morning while the King was in a deep sleep, his son slipped out of the room. He must have had helpers in the castle for horses were waiting for him.
I could picture Henry’s rage when he realized what had happened. He would immediately set about bringing the boy back. He could not have gone far and it seemed they must soon find him.
The chase went on for three days, but young Henry managed to elude his pursuers, and finally he crossed the border into France and made his way at once to Louis, his father-in-law,