The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [203]
That was perhaps one of the saddest aspects of all.
Richard had arrived at Fontevrault and stood beside the dead King. It was typical of William Marshal that he did not attempt to make his escape, although it must have occurred to him that after what had happened he would have little mercy from the new King.
Richard had moved away from the corpse and signed to Marshal to follow him.
He said: “There is work for you to do, William Marshal. I cannot return to England immediately. Go to my mother and, with her, guard my kingdom until I return.”
William was so taken aback that he stared at the King in amazement.
Richard said: “I trust those men who are faithful to their kings, and I believe you will be so to the new one as you were to the old.”
William took his hand and kissed it.
“I will, my lord King,” he said.
I was delighted. Richard was not always by nature magnanimous, but I considered this a gesture worthy of a shrewd king; William Marshal’s acceptance of him made me feel that everything I had heard of him was true.
A king needs men such as William Marshal about him.
Thus it was that he arrived in England and came straight to me.
William brought letters from Richard in which he stated that I was to have full command of the kingdom until his return. My orders should be obeyed as though they came from the King himself. I was delighted and gratified by his trust. It was my duty now to prepare the people for him. I knew they would be feeling a little dubious.
He had never shown much interest in England; he had been out of it for most of his life. I had to make them realize that he was a strong man, a worthy successor to his father.
A further shock awaited me. Following almost immediately on the news of Henry’s death came that of Matilda. She had in fact died a few days before her father. I was glad he had been spared the grief of knowing this.
He had skillfully negotiated with the Emperor Frederick and had made it possible for them to return to their own dominions; but I believe the strain she had suffered greatly impaired Matilda’s health. It was sad that her husband was not with her when she died. He had been with the Emperor in the Holy Land and had taken their eldest son, Henry, with him. Thus Matilda died with only Richenza, Lothair and William beside her. She was only thirty-three years old.
The messenger who brought me this terrible news tried to comfort me by telling me that she had been buried with great pomp and ceremony in the church of St. Blasius. As if that could console me! I was grief-stricken for the loss of my daughter as I could not be for my husband.
I went over the details of her childhood and our last meeting . . . and my sorrow was great.
But there was no time for mourning. Richard was left to me, and my time must be dedicated to his needs.
I could not tarry in Winchester. I must go to London as soon as possible.
Before I left I summoned the Princess Alais to come to me. I think she was very frightened, fearing what would become of her now that the King was dead. She stood before me trembling.
She was a poor thing, really. She had so little spirit. That was what he had found comforting; she would always be ready to obey without question. I despised her, and I reminded myself that while I had been a prisoner she had been acting as Queen, taking my place.
The tables were turned now.
“Your position has changed considerably,” I said. “You must be wondering what will become of you.”
She looked blankly at me. I could see that she had been weeping.
“I, who was a prisoner here, am so no longer,” I went on. “The King treated me very badly, but that is over now. What are you going to do now that he is no longer here to protect you?” She looked at me piteously.
“You can’t expect Richard to marry you.”
“No,” she said quietly.
“No indeed. You could not expect the King of England to marry his father’s onetime mistress. Oh Alais, who would have believed that possible—and you the half-sister to the King of France!