Plantagenet 1 - The Plantagenet Prelude (40 page)

‘Such condescension is flattering,’ said Thomas. ‘I, as a humble merchant’s son, am aware of the honour done to me. I value that friendship which you are gracious enough to acknowledge, and it is because I cannot bear to spoil it that I decline the post you offer me.’

The King’s temper was beginning to rise.

‘If my lord will excuse me …’ began Thomas.

‘Nay,’ roared the King. ‘I will do no such thing. You will stay here and you will go on your knees and thank me for my munificence in offering you this great post which is what you desired more than anything else, the peak of your ambition, the post on which you set your heart ever since you entered the Church.’

‘May I speak?’

‘You may.’

‘If I take this post it could impair our friendship.’

‘How so?’

‘If we did not agree …’

‘Are we not now often in disagreement?’

‘It is so. But that is in matters of government in which I must perforce give way to you. You are my King and I am your servant. If I became Archbishop of Canterbury there is one whom I must serve before you and that is God.’

‘A plague on such talk! My ancestors have quarrelled constantly with the Church. There has ever been conflict between them. It is to avoid this that I wish you to be my Archbishop. You and I will have our disagreements but should we ever quarrel seriously?’

‘I must repeat that my first allegiance would have to be to God. You are my King and my friend. I would have it remain as it stands now. I beg of you, my lord, to accept my decision.’

The King stared at Thomas. ‘I could force you …’ he began.

‘Nay, that is one thing you could not do,’ contradicted Thomas.

‘Then I must perforce persuade you. Now, your looks do not please me. I like not to see my Chancellor so wan. You shall not travel until you are completely recovered. I must go to England and you shall follow me when you are well.’

‘You are gracious to me, my lord,’ said Thomas with some emotion.

‘Sometimes I wonder at myself,’ answered the King. ‘I have a fondness for you, and I promise you it will not lessen, even when you are my Archbishop.’

Henry went back to England where there were certain matters to occupy him. Leicester and Richard de Luci were good fellows, and it was a fine thing to have such loyal servants; but neither of them pleased him as Thomas did. He missed his company.

When he thought of him he began to laugh. He could never fully understand Thomas. That love of silken garments, those lily-white hands! Whatever he said, Thomas loved luxury. Thomas was a clever fellow, none more clever. Was he capable of putting on a front for everyone to see … even his King? Was that pious exterior hiding a sensual man? He couldn’t hide that love for the good things of life. His household articles were of the finest. He lived more like a king than the King himself.

How he would love to discover Thomas in some intrigue! Nothing would delight him more. How amusing to discover him … say in bed with a woman. How they would laugh together.

Then you and I, Thomas, would go adventuring together, he thought. I can imagine no greater delight.

‘My first allegiance is to God.’ That irked. Thomas, you are human like the rest of us. You want old Theobald’s post. You must. And when you have it, you and I will show the Pope of Rome that England can do without the Church, that the King of England is more powerful than any Pope, for all that he’s a soldier and a lecher.

If only he could discover Thomas in some awkward situation.

He had left Eleanor at Westminster and travelled to Stafford on one of his frequent journeys that his people might see that he cared for their well-being and at the same time made sure of their good conduct. The country was becoming law-abiding again. The roads were safe as they had been in the days of his grandfather. He had abolished the brigandry of the road when no traveller had been safe. These robbers had no wish to lose hands, feet, ears, nose or eyes for the sake of someone’s purse; and the King’s judgement was relentless. No one could be sure when he would put in an appearance, so there must consequently be no straying from the strict laws which he had laid down.

Some years before the King had enjoyed his visits to Stafford for living there was a young woman of whom he had been quite enamoured. Her name was Avice and she had borne him two sons. She no longer appealed to him. Rosamund had filled his thoughts since he had first discovered her and he had found that no woman satisfied him as she did, so that whenever he had the time to dally it was to Woodstock he went.

Avice might no longer be the slender young girl who had caught his fancy but she was still a very attractive woman - some seemed to think more so in her ripeness than she had been when very young.

The King visited her now and then for old time’s sake and had always retained an affection for her.

Now at Stafford he sent for her. She was delighted to come, always hoping that she could regain her old position with him.

He decided to spend the night with her, and when they were together an idea came to him. It so amused him that he could not stop himself laughing.

‘Now, Avice,’ he said, ‘I want you to do something for me.’

‘Anything I can do for my lord shall be done,’ she assured him.

‘I want you to see if you can lure my Chancellor into bed with you.’

‘My lord!’ Avice was a little hurt. What greater proof could there be of a lover’s indifference than when he suggested she should be turned over to someone else. ‘You cannot mean Thomas Becket?’

‘None other.’

‘But the man is a cleric is he not?’

‘My dear Avice, clerics have been known to enjoy a woman now and then.’

‘Not this man, surely.’

‘So he would have us believe.’

‘You think he is deceiving you?’

‘I don’t know. But I should like to find out. Oh, if I could surprise him in bed with you, Avice, I would reward you well.’

‘I would not ask for rewards, my lord, to serve you.’

‘Nay, you are a good wench and pleasant times we have had together - and shall have more I doubt not.’

‘Yet you would wish me to … to entertain this man?’

‘I would wish you to prove to me that he is not the virtuous fellow he pretends to be. You are a beautiful woman, Avice. Do this for me and I shall not forget it.’

‘What would you have me do ?’

‘He will be coming to Stafford to join the court. I will send for him. When he arrives I wish you to show friendship to him. Ask him to come and see you. Feign religion if you wish. Visit him at his lodging. My dear Avice, you will know how to go on from there.’

‘And then?’

‘He will be staying in the house of a clerk called Vivien. He has stayed there before. I will speak to Vivien and he will play his part. I want him to surprise you in bed with Becket. Then he will be so over-wrought, knowing you have been my mistress, that he will come at once to me and tell me what has happened. It is a simple enough plot.’

‘I doubt from what I know of Thomas Becket that it will succeed.’

‘That is what everyone would say. But you don’t know Thomas. I know the man well. I would know him better. You will do this for me, my dear Avice. I shall regard it as a great favour to me.’

‘I would rather entertain you, my lord.’

‘So you shall. Do this and I will never forget you.’

He studied her appraisingly. She was a very beautiful woman, voluptuous, irresistible.

We shall see, friend Thomas, he thought.

Thomas arrived in Stafford and went straight to the house of Vivien where he had stayed many times before. He was warmly welcomed by the family and taken to his chamber.

He was tired and still feeling weak; moreover he was beset by anxieties. The King would not easily let him refuse the post of Archbishop and Thomas was beginning to think that he would have no alternative but to take it.

It will be the end, he thought. The King and I will be enemies. He will never fall into step and walk beside the Church. There will always be differences of opinion, always conflict. And yet the King was insisting. Although he did not say outright: ‘I command you to take this post,’ it was in his mind.

Vivien came to his chamber to say that a message had arrived for him. It was from Mistress Avice of whom he may have heard.

Thomas wrinkled his brow. ‘I think I have heard the King speak of a lady of that name.’

‘Very likely,’ said Vivien, ‘she was at one time the King’s very good friend.’

‘What can she want of me?’

‘She is asking for an audience.’

‘She may come here.’

She came immediately. She was a very beautiful woman. Thomas could understand the attraction she had once had for the King.

She told him that she had sinned greatly during her life and was now eager to repent.

‘Men go on pilgrimages to the Holy Land to take part in crusades. What can a woman do?’

‘You could go into a convent.’

‘I fear that would be too easy a way out. You must forgive me for taking up your time but something told me that only a man such as you could give me the advice I need. Will you promise me to think of the matter?’

‘The answer is in yourself,’ said Thomas. ‘Only you can save your soul.’

‘Yet such a man as yourself can best advise me. You are a man of God and yet you live at court. You share much of the King’s life. You yourself must have had temptations.’

‘We have all had temptations,’ answered Thomas. ‘We overcome them through prayer. Go away, pray and ask God’s help and the answer will come to you.’

‘Thank you. You have eased my mind considerably. May I come and see you again?’

Thomas said she might and that he would mention her in his prayers.

‘That gives me great comfort. How much more readily will your prayers be listened to.’

When she had gone Thomas forgot her. He had matters of State to ponder on and he could not help but return to the constant question of the Archbishopric of Canterbury.

The next day Avice came again. She found it difficult to pray, she said. Would Thomas teach her?

Thomas, who never turned a supplicant away, said he would pray with her and again advised her to sell her worldly goods and go into a convent.

She used all her wiles, she admitted that she had been the mistress of the King, a fact which aroused Thomas’s interest. She came close to him as she talked and the musk smell with which she scented her clothes was pleasant to him. She was a very attractive woman and cleverly skilled in all the arts of seduction. How easily Henry would have succumbed.

He sighed, thinking of the weaknesses of the King, and marvelled that a man so strong, so able a ruler, so determined on getting his will could yet so easily be tempted.

When Avice left Vivien spoke to her. She was smiling as though well pleased with herself.

She must be coming this night, thought the clerk, for the court was moving on the next day and tonight was the only time it could be.

Thomas returned to his chamber and all was quiet.

It was midnight when the King arrived. He was wrapped in a concealing cloak so that none would guess his identity.

Vivien came to the door holding high a horn lantern. The King stepped into the house.

‘The Chancellor is here?’ he asked.

‘Yes, my lord,’ said Vivien. ‘In his bedchamber. I’ll warrant he is not alone.’

‘Go to his room,’ said the King. ‘Do not knock on the door. Throw it open and see what you find.’

Vivien took the horn lantern and mounted the stairs silently. Gently he opened the door of Thomas’s bedchamber. He shone the light of the horn lantern round the room.

The bed was empty!

Vivien felt exultant. The plot had worked. If Thomas’s bed was empty then he must be sleeping elsewhere and where? In Avice’s bed.

How delighted the King would be.

Henry was standing behind him.

‘What?’ he whispered.

‘He is not here, my lord. He is sleeping elsewhere this night.’

‘I know where,’ cried the King and then he stopped short. For kneeling at the bed in a deep sleep, his face pale and drawn in the light from the horn lantern, was Thomas.

The King stared at him for some moments and a great tenderness came over his face.