The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [176]
Henry set out for France. I was sure that news of his coming must have struck terror into the heart of the Count of Flanders. Louis on his deathbed; the King of France, a mere boy, and Henry of England, the greatest warrior of his day, on the march.
Henry, however, had no wish to do battle. He said he would first speak with Philip Augustus and the Count, and speak to them separately. The Count would naturally have liked to refuse to leave the young King and Henry alone, but he dared not.
I could well imagine that meeting. Philip Augustus a little sullen, trying hard to imply that Henry was Duke of Normandy and his vassal and Henry stressing that he came not as Duke of Normandy but as King of England. Henry could be impressive and Philip Augustus was but a boy, and it was no use trying to play the great King when he was in the presence of one.
Henry would be gentle. He would point out the delicate position Philip Augustus was in. His father could not recover; they had to face the fact that he would soon be gone. When a king died, dangers invariably sprang up in a country and they needed dexterous handling. The situation was always tricky. The King should not be alienated from his mother and his uncles. They wished to help him. The people would not be pleased if there was friction within the royal family.
Philip Augustus would try to bluster that he was King and he must do as he wished, and Henry would point out that kings ruled by the will of the people.
Philip Augustus could not stand out against the experience and power of such a man. He began to see that Henry was right, and because he was fundamentally sensible he began to come around to Henry’s way of thinking.
Adela was delighted and grateful to Henry as gradually her son began to turn to her and away from the ambitious Count of Flanders.
Meanwhile Louis became weaker and weaker, and it was clear that the end was not far off.
Philip Augustus was overcome with grief. He was going to be a clever ruler, and a sign of that is to be able to recognize and admit one’s faults. He saw that he had been led astray by flattery and that it would be better for him to listen to the advice of people who had his good and not their own interests at heart.
On a September night Louis passed away. I was glad to hear that Philip Augustus was at his bedside to the last and Queen Adela with him. Louis deserved to go in peace. Philip Augustus kissed his hand as Louis murmured a blessing on his son and wished him a long and happy reign.
I was touched and a little sad when I heard. I had despised him at times; I had wanted to get away from him; but we had lived intimately together and I had many memories of him.
I had always thought of him as “Poor Louis.” He had tried so hard to perform the duties which had been thrust upon him. He was a good man but life had been too much for him.
Now he was gone forever. But we must go on. A new reign had begun and we had to learn what this would mean to us.
There was trouble in Aquitaine. In fact, there had been since I had been captured and imprisoned. The people wanted me as their ruler—no one else would do, not even Richard. Richard was a Plantagenet. He was a Norseman descending from William the Conqueror and bearing some resemblance to his famous ancestor. Tall, reddish-haired, a great warrior, ruthless in battle, restless, never so happy as when the sword was in his hand. He was, I was beginning to realize, not a ruler my people would have chosen. True, he had a love of music and surrounded himself with troubadours, but that cold disciplinary rule would never be accepted by my people.
It was being said that there would never be peace in Aquitaine until I returned.
I heard these reports and, although I was gratified, they worried me a great deal. For all his strength and energy—and he was becoming known as one of the greatest military leaders