The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [196]
I imagined that he would be even more fond of John now. He would delude himself in his grief that he had one son who loved him.
I remembered so much—Geoffrey when he was a baby, sweet and dependent. That was often how I thought of them . . . before they grew up, before the faults began to show, when they were royal babies and the years before them seemed full of promise.
I was due to return home. Aquitaine was quiet now . . . at peace. It had worked out as Henry intended. The duchy was mine now, and that meant a return to the old way of life.
I said I would come back to them again. Oddly enough, much as I loved my native land, I wanted to know what was happening. I felt I had to watch over Richard’s inheritance, for I was sure the King planned to cheat him of it.
I was met at Dover. The King had given orders that I was to be taken to my old quarters in Winchester.
I could not believe this.
I was once more a prisoner.
What a fool I had been to come back when I could have continued in freedom in my beloved Aquitaine. I had trusted Henry. I should have known better. I had settled affairs in Aquitaine; the duchy was at peace; the people looked on me as their ruler. So now, for the time being, he had no further use for my services; and having done his work for him I could return to being his prisoner.
For some time I was so overcome by hatred for Henry that I was unable to think of anything else. Later my anger abated a little as I saw that it was really as well that I was back. I could keep an eye on what was happening here, and I had to be watchful of him. He was planning to disinherit Richard and make John his heir. That was something I had to prevent, and I could do that better even as a prisoner here than I could in Aquitaine.
Constance’s child had been born. I heard that Henry was delighted with a grandson and had wanted him named after himself. It amused me that the people of Brittany refused to allow this, and the boy was named Arthur after their national hero.
Being an inveterate matchmaker, Henry was immediately planning remarriage for Constance—a match which would be advantageous to him, of course.
Henry was far from well. I gleaned little bits of news about his indisposition. The ingrowing toenail was making walking painful, but of course he spent a great deal of time in the saddle. There was something else. He was suffering from a vague internal disease and could no longer ride for a whole day without becoming exhausted. He had indeed not worn as well as I had. No one would have believed I was the elder. The thought gave me considerable gratification when I remembered how he had taunted me that I was eleven years older than he.
With the coming of autumn there was disturbing news from Jerusalem. Heraclius had warned of impending disaster; now it had come. Saladin, the legendary Saracen hero, had taken Jerusalem, and the tomb of Christ was now in the hands of the Infidel.
Everyone was talking of the need to save the Holy Land for Christianity, and all over Europe people were taking the cross.
I was appalled to hear that Richard had fallen victim to the fervor. At Tours he had vowed to undertake a crusade. Henry was enraged when he heard. When he had taken the vow at the time of his penance, he had been wise enough to add “when the time is ripe.” Richard had shown no such good sense and seemed determined to honor his vow. I was disturbed, for if Richard went off on a crusade, that would leave the way clear for John. How could he have done such a thing!
Of course Richard was a fighter and to fight in a holy cause was an incentive to all Christians. There was a glimmer of hope. Crusades could not be undertaken in a matter of weeks. They needed years to prepare, and much could happen in that time. My thoughts went back to those days when Louis and I went off on our crusade. I remembered the fervor and the preparations, how I had fitted out my ladies with fine clothes and how we had looked forward to an exciting adventure. Exciting it had been but not always pleasant. There