The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [202]
He could no longer deceive himself.
Did he think of that picture at which he had often looked so sadly? Did he see how true it was? The old eagle worn out . . . finished . . . and the young eaglets waiting to finish him off. They could not wait for him to reach his end gracefully. They were ready to snatch from him that which he had been so reluctant to give during his lifetime.
Gone were all his illusions. He had gained much territory; he had been the most powerful man in Europe—but he had failed to win the love of his sons, and that was something he had dearly wanted.
He did refer to the picture, they told me. He said: “You see, it was right. My youngest was waiting for the moment when it seemed that all was lost to me, that he might peck out my eyes. I no longer wish to live . . . unless it is to take revenge on them. They are her children . . . all of them. That she-wolf . . . who laughs at me. I made her my prisoner but still she laughs at me, and she defeats me through her sons . . .”
I think he must have been delirious then. He talked about the early days of our marriage and of Rosamund and Alais . . . the three women who were most important to him among the myriads he had known.
Geoffrey was beside him, for he was uneasy when this son was not there.
“Would to God you had been my legitimate son,” he said to him. “Why did it have to be the bastard who was loyal to me?” He asked Geoffrey to call him “Father.” He said: “You are the best son I ever had. The sons of the Queen have been my enemies, and the son of a whore my friend.”
Geoffrey and Marshal consulted together. They thought the end was near and they should call a priest.
There was no priest. In fact, they were almost alone with the King. He was dying and all knew it. Most of the knights were concerned for their own safety. What would happen to them when he was dead? There was no point in remaining if the King were dying.
I hope he did not know they were deserting him. Geoffrey and William Marshal kept that fact from him. They remained by his bedside and watched life slowly ebb away.
Then he looked at them with anguish in his eyes. He grasped Geoffrey’s hand, and suddenly the young man felt the grip slacken.
He bent over his father. The King murmured: “Oh, the shame that I suffer now . . . the shame of a vanquished King.”
And those were the last words of Henry Plantagenet.
Richard’s Marriage
WHEN I HEARD THE news of Henry’s death I was deeply shocked. My mind was a jumble of impressions from the past. I did not know whether I was glad or sorry. The idea of a world without that maddening, devious personality, who meant no good to me, was somehow empty.
I supposed that everyone who had lived close to him must have been deeply impressed by him. He was no ordinary man. He was unique. Whenever I had encountered him I felt a great excitement; to do battle with him had been as stimulating as making love had been.
It was strange to remember that he had gone forever.
But why should I mourn? I had been his prisoner for sixteen years. He had dared treat me thus. Now I was free. My beloved son Richard was King of England. Everything would be different from now on.
Even before orders came that I was to be released, people behaved differently. There were no more guards, no more locked doors. With Richard King, his mother would be the most important woman in the land.
William Marshal arrived at Winchester almost immediately. To my surprise he came from Richard. I could not help but be amazed after what I had heard of their encounter when Marshal had been on the point of killing him. Marshal himself told me what had happened and how it was that Richard had chosen him to be his messenger.
After the King’s death he and Geoffrey had carried him to Fontevrault Abbey and sent word to Richard that his father was dead.
There Henry lay, stripped of his jewels and all possessions, which those who deserted him had taken before they went. There