The Autumn Throne (45 page)

He did as she bade him. The maid spread the cloak across a coffer to dry and brought him a spare one lined with fur, and some soft shoes. William attended to the fire, adding some pieces of wood and giving it a swift bellow to make the heat flare up.

‘You should have sent a messenger ahead and told me you were coming. I did not expect you at this time of night.’

‘I wanted to reach you before any other messengers brought you this news, madam. You will not want to hear it and I am sorry to be the bearer of such tidings.’

‘Tell me.’ She sat up as straight as a lance.

William pushed his hair back from his forehead. ‘I love and honour you and I would not tell you this lightly, but John has fortified Windsor and Marlborough with supplies and defenders, and gone himself to King Philippe to accept his offer of Alais for a bride and do him fealty for all of King Richard’s lands across the Narrow Sea. There is no stopping him this time; he has already flown the country.’ His expression was deeply troubled, perhaps even apprehensive. His own brother commanded Marlborough and it meant he had had to cut off his loyalty to family in order to support Alienor. ‘He has not had the best advice. I have proof that he and Philippe are planning to invade England – I would not believe it on word alone.’

‘What sort of proof?’ Alienor asked woodenly.

‘One of his messengers was caught recruiting Welsh mercenaries. I know this because my own man was out recruiting from the same source and ran across John’s man who had letters promising good wages and rich pickings. Another of my agents tells me that the call is out in Brabant too. Madam, John is preparing to seize England for himself and the justiciars cannot allow him to do this.’

Alienor felt sick. She loved Richard with a passion, would
move heaven and earth to save him, but John was her son too. ‘This cannot be true?’ Her heart sank for she knew William would not come to her with anything less.

He looked her in her eyes and did not answer, but his expression was confirmation enough.

Faced by this solid wall of fact, her heart still pushed against it. She thought of John as a small boy busy with his abacus, calculating, looking suspiciously at the other children, but then giving her the sweetest smile. She thought of his charm, his intelligence, his constantly busy mind and knew that this was exactly how Henry would have behaved to steal a march on his own brothers and keep her down. That John should have this trait made her deeply sad. It was betrayal, yet she still sought excuses for him.

‘He may have been led astray, but perhaps he is trying to make peace with Philippe and mediate.’

‘That may be the case, madam,’ William said diplomatically, ‘but the matter must still be addressed and we have to decide what to do. If John is planning to seize power with Philippe’s help, we must be prepared. If he is not, then we lose nothing.’

Alienor nodded wearily. ‘I am worried to exhaustion and heartsick that my beautiful, valiant son has been cast into prison and slandered by his enemies, and that his brother would use the event for his own ends.’

William’s gaze was filled with troubled compassion. ‘Madam, indeed, I am sorry – and I am sorry I had to bring you this news.’

‘And I thank you, but I will have your support in this, not your pity. Whatever happens, John is not to be harmed because he is still my son and it might set a dangerous precedent. I will deal with him in my own way. I want that understood.’

‘Yes, madam.’ William composed his expression to one of neutrality. ‘I will do my utmost to fulfil your wish.’

She rubbed her brow. ‘Nothing is as I wish, William, but I have to go on because I have no choice. The priority is to discover where Richard is, establish communication with him
and find out how much his ransom will cost. I want you to arrange a watch on our shores so we are ready if Philippe does invade.’

‘It shall be done.’

William rose to leave and she stood up to see him out.

‘You are my rock, William.’ She gripped his arm. ‘I know you will stand firm whatever happens.’

‘You can be certain of that, madam.’

He spoke with conviction, and she loved him for it, even while she knew he must be harbouring private doubts, for she harboured them herself.

At a meeting held at Oxford it was agreed that the Abbots of Boxley and Robertsbridge would set out to discover just where in Germany Richard was being held. Alienor was desperate to know Richard’s location because without that knowledge he was still lost, and it would be all too easy for him to vanish for ever. She was well aware that an extortionate ransom would be demanded for his return. The best hope was that the Pope would put pressure on Leopold of Austria and Emperor Heinrich to release Richard without payment, but that was unlikely to happen. Her task, while the abbots were about their mission, was to find out how much she could raise and what resources they required for the defence of the realm.

She looked round the circle of sombre justiciars. ‘We must be circumspect in this. Our enemies must not know what resources we have, and I trust to your discretion.’

The remark received immediate nods of agreement because it was an easy decision to make.

‘What of the Count of Mortain’s crossing the Narrow Sea to negotiate with the French?’ asked William Briwere, taking the bull by the horns. ‘What are we to do about that?

Even against such damning evidence Alienor raised her voice and prepared to protect and defend John. ‘Philippe of France is a spider weaving his web. I feel that I have to ransom
both my sons. If there is an invasion, it will be at Philippe’s behest because he has John under his influence. Let all vassals take an oath of fealty to Richard and stand by it. I will have everyone so swear throughout the land.’ She looked round the gathering. ‘Whatever happens, I will not have John harmed. He must be brought to safety and I will deal with him – nobody else.’

‘But madam,’ said Briwere, daring where angels feared to tread, ‘he is a danger to the country and the livelihood and safety of us all. If you could see your way to having him confined so he can be dealt with by the law, then we shall all sleep more easily in our beds at night.’

Alienor glared round the group but they all avoided her gaze. ‘He is your prince,’ she said with regal anger, ‘and all princes have their wild oats to sow. It does not mean he is without worth and calibre for the future. I shall deal with him – I want that understood by all.’

William Marshal had said little thus far, but now he stirred. ‘The Count of Mortain can still be contained without imprisonment and surely his mother is the best person to bring him to reason. Our main concern is to keep the French from landing any substantial forces and a shore watch and local militia have already been set up for that purpose under the Queen’s instructions. Beacons are being prepared on the hill tops and the coastal defences are being strengthened.’

She sent him a grateful look. ‘As my lord Marshal says, measures are being taken while we await news and in the meantime we shall seek diplomatic solutions and ways to remove John from French influence. Once we have made contact with Richard and know more, we shall not have to mark time.’

A few weeks later, the same group reconvened at Westminster. The days had begun to draw out and although the late February day was still dank and raw, the pallid sunshine hinted at spring. The first lambs were gambolling beside their mothers, and
folk had started to poke their noses out of their doors, sniff the air and think about planting seed.

Alienor rose wearily from her prayers in her private chapel and swayed on her feet, made light-headed by exhaustion, lack of sustenance and worry. There had been no news from Germany and she was at her wits’ end. Surely the Abbots of Boxley and Robertsbridge must have found Richard by now or discovered what had happened to him? Was she going to keep sending people only to have them disappear too? In April she would begin her seventieth year on this earth, and at the moment she felt every one of those years and their burden grew as her flesh withered and shrank. Where had her life gone, and to what purpose? She dared not think on the futility of it all.

She had taken an inventory of the funds available in the kingdom and had looked at how much she could draw from her own finances, and had a feeling it would not be enough, because Heinrich of Germany was the kind of man to cut to the bone and then keep on cutting. She had already decided that John would contribute a substantial sum from his own lands. He had just returned to England from France but she had not yet been able to pin him down and talk to him about precisely what negotiations he had been conducting with Philippe of France. However, he had requested this meeting at Westminster with her and the justiciars and now she would learn more.

Her chamber had been prepared for the meeting. The fire was redly aglow and flagons of good Gascon wine stood on a trestle together with a jug of clear spring water for those more dedicated to Lent. There were dishes of dried fruits and nuts as well as bread and smoked fish should anyone be hungry, which knowing William Marshal would be the case. A table had been set up with long benches for the men to sit on and for herself a curved chair.

One by one the justiciars began arriving and were offered food and wine and directed to their places. Of John there was
no sign. Glances were exchanged but nothing said. The conversation meandered over routine matters – talk of the weather and the likelihood of a good spring sowing. William Marshal, as Alienor had predicted, applied himself to the bread and smoked fish with alacrity.

John timed his eventual arrival to ensure that everyone knew they had been kept waiting at his leisure. A clerk accompanied him and set down a small leather satchel on the table at his lord’s place.

‘My lords.’ John gave a formal but perfunctory bow to the justiciars and then knelt to Alienor. ‘My lady mother.’

Alienor sensed the antipathy in the way the justiciars responded to him with cold, correct courtesy and knew this was going to be difficult. ‘Be welcome,’ she said. ‘I am glad to see you and hope you are here today because you have a sincere commitment to resolving our differences and coming to an amicable solution.’

John accepted a cup of wine from a servant and took his place with a regal air. ‘Indeed, I hope so too.’ His gaze flicked in assessment over the men seated at the trestle. ‘I have been trying to help everyone. I do not know why you misconstrue my actions. I only have the best for England at heart.’

Alienor sensed the justiciars’ dislike of this reproachful tactic. She heard a soft growl, but could not tell who had made the sound. Walter of Coutances was tight-lipped. William’s face was studiously blank.

‘We all need to recognise our positions, and with Richard gone, I am the one holding the forces against the tide,’ John continued. ‘Without me, what would happen to these lands? Who would come to the throne? You should cease opposing me and unite against the common threat. I know my mother supports me in this.’

Alienor sat up straighter; it was the first she had heard of this, but she would not deny John before everyone. However, she warned him with a look.

‘Indeed,’ Walter of Coutances said smoothly, ‘we have the
country’s interests at heart too and we need to know that you in your turn support us. We have made many sacrifices and compromises to come to this point and you will find no broken link in our armour when it comes to protecting England against the foe.’ He considered John with cold blue eyes. ‘We shall do this until the King returns because that is the task with which he entrusted every one of us.’

John drank, lowered his cup, and gazed around the board with an expression of impatient scorn. ‘He’s not going to return; you are all deluding yourselves. He is dead.’

Alienor stifled a gasp and put her hand to her mouth.

John grimaced. ‘Mama, I am sorry, I was hoping not to have to tell you this, and that matters could have been settled another way, but I have letters.’ He reached to the satchel the scribe had placed on the trestle and produced a folded parchment bearing the seals of Philippe of France and Heinrich of Germany. ‘Read for yourself. The Abbots of Boxley and Robertsbridge will bring you the same news when they return. Richard no longer lives, and here is your proof.’

Walter of Coutances took the letters into his hands as if they were venomous and stared at the seal tags. Alienor’s throat closed until she could barely breathe.

‘Sire,’ said Coutances, ‘I see no proof here, only words on a page that might or might not have meaning. There is nothing to convince me that the King is dead and that any of us should swear fealty to you as his successor.’ He flicked one of the seals with his fingertips. ‘These could easily be forgeries.’

Making a tremendous effort, Alienor drew herself together. ‘As my lord Archbishop says, these documents may well be false. We must evaluate them and come to a decision. Should it prove the case that they are true, then by due process we shall put the proper ceremonies in place.’ But it couldn’t be true, it couldn’t!

Coutances leaned back, lips pursed, gaze watchful. ‘There is no reason for haste in this matter. The country is in no difficulty despite what you say, sire, and we cannot act on
the hearsay of these letters alone. When more news arrives, when we have solid confirmation, then we shall be in a better position to judge. Let the Abbots of Boxley and Robertsbridge return to us first and let us know more than this letter tells.’

‘Then you refuse me?’ John banged down his goblet on the trestle and surged to his feet. ‘Even with proof before your eyes?’

‘We need to know that this is genuine, sire,’ William Marshal spoke up. ‘As my lord Archbishop says, there is no haste. Even should it prove the tragic case that the King is dead, it is prudent to wait a few more weeks to be certain. Those who act in haste, repent at leisure.’

John glared round the assembled justiciars. ‘You will see that I am right,’ he said roughly. ‘Richard is never coming back. If you will not accept it, there is nothing more to say and I will continue my preparations apace.’ Grabbing the satchel, he stalked out.