The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [170]
He showed his independence on this occasion. They were following the deer in the forest and Philip Augustus naturally decided that his should be the arrow which killed the hunted creature. He spurred on his horse and galloped ahead. His followers, I suppose, understood his desire and, not wanting to offend him, fell back, with the result that in due course they lost sight of him. There was consternation: the heir to the throne of France was lost in the forest.
Meanwhile Philip Augustus rode on. He realized he had lost the quarry, was himself lost and was out of earshot of the hunting party. All was silent in the forest. A mist arose; he was wet and cold. One can imagine his fear among the damp foliage and the tall trees; nature did not care whether he was a peasant or a king about to be crowned. After all the adulation he was accustomed to receive, the indifference of nature must have filled him with apprehension.
He began to feel dizzy and hot. He was not strong and they had had great trouble in raising him. When he was very young, his father had lived in terror that he would lose him.
He went deeper into the forest. He was lost and he was going to be ill. It was getting dark. It would be eerie in the forest and he had been accustomed to having people always around him. Now he was alone, alone in the forest which cared nothing for kings.
I have no doubt that he prayed. Who does not remember God when one’s need is great? I suppose he thought God had answered his prayers when he came upon the charcoal-burners’ hut. They took him into their hovel; they put him by the fire and forced some hot broth between his lips. He was fainting but he was conscious enough to tell them to go at once to the King.
Poor humble people, how bewildered they must have been! But the old man’s son set off, and so well did he carry out his mission that by the next day men came to take Philip Augustus away.
I hope the charcoal-burners were amply rewarded. I am sure Louis would not forget to do that.
They took Philip Augustus to the nearest castle but by this time the fever had a hold on him and he was delirious. He had become very ill indeed and there was consternation throughout France. His life was despaired of, and it was feared that God was about to take back what He had given.
Louis’s distress must have been great. The story was that he was so beside himself that he could neither eat nor sleep. Fearing that he would die as well as his son, the doctors gave him something to make him rest. He must keep up his strength so that he would be able to bear the blow which it seemed must inevitably come.
He dozed and it was then that he had a vision. He thought that Thomas Becket came to him and told him that, if he repented of his sins and humbled himself at the shrine in Canterbury Cathedral, his son’s life would be saved.
The consternation must have been great when Louis announced his intention of visiting Canterbury. Go into the heart of enemy territory? It must never be! But Louis was adamant. This was a message from God, and everyone must know that he was on special terms with the Almighty. Moreover, what would happen to France if his son died? He himself was a fast-aging man.
He must go to Canterbury. God—through Thomas Becket—would not have told him to go if it had not been for his own good. He had to save his son’s life, no matter what happened to him.
They tried to put up obstacles. None of them believed in the vision. If Philip Augustus was going to die, nothing would save him. Could the King endure the hazardous journey? Everyone knew what the Channel could be like—and at his age . . . and in his health . . .
I wondered what Henry thought when he heard of Louis’s proposed visit. If rumors were true and he had indeed seduced Louis’s daughter, he must be feeling rather uneasy for Louis would surely expect to see the girl when he was in England.
I wondered how far Henry’s relationship with Alais had gone, and