The Autumn Throne (27 page)

Glancing down on the courtyard she saw that Henry too had left his chamber and was hobbling around the ward using a walking stick. Otto and Lothar, cloaked and hooded, were accompanying him on his perambulation, and so were a couple of dogs. Every so often the boys would throw a ball for the dogs to chase, all the time chattering to their grandsire. At one point she heard Henry’s laugh ring out, clear and strong above the children’s fluting voices. Henry related so well to small children, she thought, but the moment they began to turn into adults he perceived them as a challenge to his authority. He clearly doted on his grandsons and they on him. The same went for his bastard son William, and John’s boy Richard, and it saddened her to know through his own actions he would eventually lose those fond attachments.

The snow started to fall harder. Henry took a turn around the courtyard and then hobbled back inside, giving his grandsons into the care of an attendant. Bitter air knifed through a gap in Alienor’s cloak and she shivered. Glancing at Richenza, she noticed how pale she had become although her lips were startlingly red. ‘Come, it is too cold. We should go back to the fire.’

As they turned from the battlements, Alienor glimpsed several riders arriving at the gate, their cloaks colourful against the bleached hues of the winter day. There were soldiers among
them clad in the gleam of mail shirts. Alienor narrowed her eyes, wondering who was paying a visit, and thinking that at least they had outridden the snowstorm flurrying at their heels.

The women lost sight of the party as the men entered the outer defences, but an instant later the riders reappeared on the other side. She gazed at the young man dismounting from an iron-grey palfrey. His cloak was of a blue so dark it was almost black. ‘John.’ Her whisper was scarcely louder than her breath. He was supposed to be in Ireland, and the sight of him here at Domfront filled her with surprise and trepidation. ‘It’s your uncle John,’ she told Richenza. ‘We had better go and find out why he is here.’

Alienor entered Henry’s chamber and crossed to the fireside where her husband sat with his bad leg propped upon a footstool. Fine beads of sweat dewed his forehead and he was clearly suffering. John, who had just risen from paying his respects to him, turned and knelt to her.

‘My lady mother.’

Alienor stooped and kissed his icy cheek. ‘This is a surprise. I thought you were keeping Christmas in Dublin.’

Henry made a harsh sound of disgust and struck his fist on his good thigh. ‘And so he would have, had he not squandered his opportunities and behaved like an errant child.’

Alienor was jolted by surprise; it was highly unusual for Henry to castigate John. She noticed he was clutching a piece of parchment, its edges trembling as his hand shook.

‘It was not my fault,’ John answered, flushing. ‘I did not have enough resources, and the men you entrusted to serve me gave me bad advice and let me down. I had no choice but to return.’

‘And did they also advise you to scorn the Irish chieftains?’ Henry demanded. ‘To pull their beards and behave in the manner of a foolish drunken boy if I am to believe this?’ He raised the crumpled parchment in his fist. ‘At whose feet does that blame lie, my son?’

‘The Irish
are heathen savages,’ John said with a sulky scowl. ‘They worship stones and eat horse flesh and live like beasts. They had no respect for me. You do not know what it was like.’

‘Hah, I know perfectly well what it was like,’ Henry retorted. ‘I was there ten years ago, and I comported myself like a king, which is what I expected of you, not this childish folly. You seriously disappoint me.’

‘Do I have your leave to go?’ John asked mutinously.

Henry wiped his brow. ‘No,’ he snapped, ‘I have not finished. I know you, John. You are the one most like me, the son dearest to my heart, and that makes my disappointment keener because I know you can do better.’ He picked up his wine with a shaky hand. ‘I know you wanted Aquitaine. I know you wanted Jerusalem and had to make do with Ireland instead. But it was a testing ground. I never intended to dump you there and forget you – I hope you know that, and I hope you understand why I could not give you the other things.’

John stared at his father like a young wolf eyeing a mangy pack leader and debating whether to dare a challenge or back down.

‘If you thought by your behaviour to express your displeasure, then you have misjudged me. As soon as the weather improves, you will return to Ireland with what you need to finish the task. I can forgive you the one mistake, but you must make good on the rest. Do I make myself clear?’

John clenched his jaw. ‘Yes, Papa.’

‘Good. Then come kiss me and go and settle yourself and we shall speak again later.’

John dutifully kissed his father’s cheek and Henry slid his arm around John’s neck for a moment, drawing him close.

‘I want to be proud of you,’ he said.

‘And I swear I will make you proud, Papa,’ John replied. His attitude had changed on the moment from defensive to dutiful, but Alienor wondered how much was a front.

When he had gone, Henry slumped in the chair and closed his eyes.

‘I will
send for your physician,’ Alienor said.

‘No.’ Henry forced his lids open. ‘There is no need. I am tired, that is all.’

‘Perhaps now you can see why it was not a good idea to give John Aquitaine.’

Henry struggled upright against the chair cushions. ‘And perhaps one of the reasons John did not do so well in Ireland was that his heart was not in it.’

‘Or that he was far enough away from home to do as he pleased.’

‘Well he knows now that he may not,’ Henry said testily. He gathered himself and rose to his feet, but the effort left him grey and shaking, and Alienor summoned his physician anyway, deriving a certain satisfaction from overriding him, and for all that he complained that she was meddling, for once she had the full support of the courtiers.

Henry’s relapse further delayed their return to England, and he spent the rest of the winter and early spring in Normandy. As he clawed his way to recovery, he found time to meet with Philippe, the Young King of France, and promised him that he would make the marriage of Richard and Alais his first priority the instant he returned from his delayed visit to England.

By April, Henry was well enough to make plans to take ship at the end of the month. But first he embarked on a hunting expedition with his barons at his park of Lyons la Forêt in north Normandy, his first such excursion since the late autumn.

Alienor was sewing in her chamber with her women when a squire brought her news that William Marshal had ridden in and was requesting an audience. Her heart leaped and she commanded the youth to bring William to her immediately. Another squire was sent for fresh wine and a platter of pastries and wafers.

She waited, a strange mingling of anxiety and anticipation settling upon her after her initial spark of joy. She had often
thought of William on his journey and prayed that he would accomplish his mission, but she had not known if he would return. Indeed she had even thought that if he survived, he might choose to remain in Outremer.

‘Who is William Marshal?’ Richenza asked curiously.

Alienor turned to her granddaughter. Of course she would not know. ‘Many years ago when he was a young knight in the service of the Earl of Salisbury, he saved me from ambush, perhaps even death, when I was in Poitou. He was captured during the attack and later I paid his ransom and took him into my household. He became marshal to your uncle Henry, and when he died, undertook to lay his cloak on the tomb of Christ’s Sepulchre in Jerusalem – that is where he returns from now. He has my trust and friendship, and you know I do not give those things lightly.’

The squire returned, William following in his wake, and Alienor went forward to greet him, one hand extended.

‘Madam.’ William Marshal dropped to his knees. Taking her hand, he pressed his lips to her ring. ‘My liege lady.’

His deep brown hair was tipped with the gold of hotter climes and his skin wore the Outremer tint of a recently returned crusader. He had knelt to her smoothly – he was still lithe – and although there was a new gravitas about him, his former spark still glowed in the depths, even if it was tempered by exhaustion.

Pressure increased behind her eyes, almost tears, but her voice was firm and strong. ‘William! Welcome back. It is so good to see you.’

‘And you, madam, are a pleasing sight for travel-weary eyes,’ he replied with the gallantry she remembered. ‘Of all the fair women I saw between here and Jerusalem, there were none to match the Queen of England.’

‘Ever the flatterer.’ She gestured him to his feet before directing a squire to pour him wine.

‘Madam, it is the truth. You will only ever receive truth from me.’

‘Then I
must believe you, for even the King says that William Marshal does not know how to tell a lie.’

He took the wine, and stared into it as if it were an unfamiliar object.

‘You may drink it and not be worried; it is for my personal use. I refuse to touch the vinegar that my husband forces everyone else to swallow.’

‘Then in that case, to your health, madam,’ he toasted with a forced smile.

Alienor resumed her seat behind her tapestry frame and gestured him to a cushioned stool facing her. ‘I truly wondered if I would see you again.’ Her throat tightened. ‘I thought you might be like all the other people in my life who have died or gone away – who live in my memory and nowhere else.’

‘Never that, madam,’ he said ruefully. ‘There were times when I did indeed think I would die, there were many perilous hardships, but with God’s help I won through.’

She fell silent while she composed herself. ‘Jerusalem,’ she said eventually. ‘Tell me about it.’

He took another swallow of wine, cleared his throat and began to recount his journey. She could sense he was not telling her everything and that there were difficult personal areas he was keeping to himself, but she did not press him.

‘My young lord has been acknowledged by the keepers of the Sepulchre and his cloak accepted,’ he said. ‘They pray for him daily, as do I. I have done my utmost for his soul’s release, and I pray that he is with God and Our Lord Jesus Christ in heaven and that it is as you would wish.’ The look he gave her shone with tears but was direct and powerful. ‘I have done what I strove to do. Amen.’

‘Your service will never be requited.’ Her own eyes were full. ‘But I love you for it, and I will do all in my power to help and advance you now you have returned.’

He inclined his head, thanking her without words because he had reached the end of speech. With a quick motion he wiped his eyes.

‘Have you
spoken to the King?’

‘No, madam. I am told he is still out with the hunt, but when he returns I shall go to him too and make my report.’

‘I will speak with him and make sure he gives you due acknowledgement for what you have done.’ She saw the exhaustion in him, even though he was bearing up well. The moment he stopped he would collapse, she was certain. ‘The King plans to return to England very soon. You shall stay at court and travel with us as our guest before you resume your duties.’

He smiled, and his expression relaxed. ‘Indeed madam, it will be a pleasure.’

When William had gone, she looked at the gifts he had brought her. There was a rock crystal phial containing water from the River Jordan, a spindle weight made from the clay of the Garden of Eden, and a marvellous little object fashioned from a piece of exquisitely carved ivory. It looked like a needle case, but there was a slit in it and inside, wrapped around a spindle, was a length of silk ribbon that told the story of the raising of Lazarus from the dead. Richenza was awestruck and thought it the most remarkable thing she had ever seen, and Alienor’s heart overflowed with warmth towards William for his thoughtfulness.

Henry arrived as she was putting the items away in her personal coffer. There was little evidence of his limp now, just a hint as he crossed the room to her. She wondered if William had brought him anything from Jerusalem.

‘So,’ he said. ‘I understand that the Marshal has already paid his respects to you.’

‘You were away at the hunt when he arrived. I offered him our hospitality and he spoke to me of our son and what he had done for him at the Sepulchre.’

Henry grunted and turned to pace the room, clear evidence that his energy was almost back to normal.

‘I hope you intend to reward him for his service.’

‘I have already done so,’ he replied. ‘I never expected to
see him again, but since he has returned, he should indeed be acknowledged for his diligence and loyalty. I have given him custody of Heloise of Kendal. She will make him a good wife should he choose to marry her, and bring him enough land on which to live. I’ve given him the wardship of William of Earley’s boy too. That will bring him more revenue and give him a youngster to train up to manhood.’

Alienor eyed him with surprise bordering on disbelief. ‘I would have thought you would give him more, and not so far away from the court.’

Henry shrugged. ‘He has not been at court for many years and I have managed without him. I may need him in the future but this will keep him occupied for now. Let him settle to ordinary toil and then we shall see.’

‘You have greater heiresses in your wardship. Does he not merit one of them?’

Henry snorted. ‘I have no intention of handing one of them over to an adventurer newly returned from pilgrimage.’ He wagged his finger at her. ‘I do not want you interfering, is that understood? I know he is one of your pets.’

‘You disparage him,’ she said angrily. ‘There are very few men of his calibre; you should do your utmost to bring him into your affinity, never mind mine, especially after what he did for our son in Jerusalem. You could have been more generous, but perhaps it is not within you.’

‘Good Christ, woman!’ he snapped. ‘I have given him land of his own, the wherewithal to make a family and a profitable wardship. I do not call that ungenerous. He could have returned to nothing. Indeed, I could make him nothing just like this.’ He clapped his hands together, making a loud report.