The Lion of Justice (25 page)

The custom of impaling men and women on stakes was a practice in which he delighted. That he was fiendishly mad was undoubted; the perverted wickedness of his actions was
having its effect on Normandy; and it became clear even to the Duke that if he was going to save his country from absolute disaster he must do something about it.

He decided that he would go into battle against the tyrant. Henry had satisfactorily driven Bellême out of England, where he had attempted to establish the same diabolical rule that he practised in Normandy, so the Duke would follow his brother's example and take Bellême's castles one by one and if possible destroy him.

Alas for Robert, he lacked Henry's skill. He went into action but was very soon suffering a humiliating defeat at the hands of his vassal.

Bellême concluded a treaty of peace with the Duke which was to the effect that he was to be permitted to live as he pleased in his own domain.

The troubled state of the country continued as before.

Robert had given shelter to many of the Norman barons who had escaped from England to Normandy, for they had proved themselves to be his allies and therefore he must befriend them. This gave Henry the excuse he had been looking for. The pension, he said, was to have been paid while there was friendship between him and his brother. To shelter the King's enemies could scarcely be called a friendly act, in which case the Duke had broken the treaty.

Ranulf Flambard, still chafing against his ill-judgment in the first place, realized immediately that Henry was going to take an opportunity to seize Normandy. He had admired the manner in which Henry had extricated himself from a confrontation which could have been disastrous to him. He knew that Henry had not meant to pay that pension for long; his lawyer's mind had been searching for a loophole and he had found it. Ranulf was now eager to see Normandy pass to Henry. He knew what was in Henry's mind. As the son of the Conqueror, he had inherited to an intense degree the avariciousness which was one of the strongest characteristics of his father. Ranulf was well aware that Henry yearned not only to remain King of England but to be Duke of Normandy as well.

Well, why not? Ranulf could grow rich and powerful in a prosperous land – as he never could in one such as
Normandy had become, with Bellême's power rising and that of the Duke diminishing.

‘The King of England,' he reminded Robert, ‘has not paid the pension which was granted to you.'

‘Nay,' answered Robert. ‘He is cheating me of it.'

‘Will you allow this, my lord?'

‘By Saint Mary, I will not, Ranulf.'

‘Nor did I think you would, my lord.'

Ranulf's eyes were gleaming with the prospect of an enterprise which should be devious and cunning, such as his soul loved.

Robert said, ‘I should go to England and demand it.'

‘Would my lord take an army with him?'

‘How else?'

‘You did that before, my lord, and what resulted but this treaty?'

‘I never cared to take up arms against my own brothers.'

‘Kings and rulers can be enemies as well as brothers. You made this treaty in good faith and Henry has not honoured it.'

Robert's face grew scarlet with a sudden rush of temper. He smote his knee with his fist and cried, ‘'Tis so. I should teach him a lesson.'

Ranulf surveyed the Duke through half-closed eyes.

‘He complains that you have given shelter to barons who have displeased him.'

‘They are Normans. Why should I not?'

‘Perhaps this is a matter which you should talk out together.'

Robert looked interested. When they were making the treaty he had stayed at the English Court for six months. It had been a pleasant experience. He had greatly enjoyed the company of his sister-in-law Matilda – a charming cultivated lady, and she had been very gracious to him because she said she had greatly appreciated his gallant gesture in not bringing his soldiers into Winchester where she was lying-in.

They had good beverages to drink at his brother's court, and he had on several occasions drunk himself into a stupor and had had to be carried to his bed. It had been vastly entertaining and he had been sorry to leave the English
Court. Perhaps he had had enough of fighting. He had distinguished himself in the Holy Land; but it was different fighting an infidel, from engaging in what could prove a death struggle with his own brother.

‘To go in peace to my brother, discuss with him the reasons why he has not paid my pension: that seems a good idea.'

‘This suggestion of yours does seem a good one.' It was always wise to shift the responsibility of a doubtful enterprise to other shoulders and Robert, like most men in his position, could always be persuaded to believe that an idea which seemed to him a good one had originated with himself.

‘I am sure it is,' cried Robert, his enthusiasm mounting. ‘I will take a few gentlemen with me and cross to England. Henry will then see that I come in peace and we can together discuss our difference. I am sure I can make him realize that he does in truth owe me the pension and that I need it desperately.'

Ranulf nodded slowly. What a fool Robert was. Did he think that Henry was the man not to take advantage of every opportunity offered him? Did he really think that he could pit his flighty mind against that astute lawyer's brain?

It would be interesting to see what came of this visit, and as Henry's very covetous eyes were almost certain to be fixed on Normandy – now that he was so admirably putting his own house in order – it might well be that Robert would never see Normandy again.

Henry was hunting in the New Forest when news was brought to him of his brother's arrival in the country.

The Count de Mellent who had come with the news was disturbed when he saw Henry's delight.

‘He comes,' said the Count, ‘with only twelve gentlemen in attendance.'

‘Can a man begotten by my father be such a fool?' cried Henry exultantly.

‘He has said that he has come in friendship to speak with you. He wishes to reason with you about his unpaid pension, my lord,' said Mellent.

‘Now is my chance. I shall take him and put him in such a
dungeon from which he will never be able to effect an escape.'

‘My lord, he is your brother.'

‘What mean you? Do you think I am not aware of that?'

‘It would be considered a villainy.'

Henry's cold rage had begun to rise. ‘You dare . . .'

‘Yes, my lord, I dare,' said the bold Count. ‘I dare because I serve you well. You are our Lion of Justice. The people are beginning to understand what it means to be ruled by a good strong king and most of all a just king. Do not allow them to doubt your justice, lord, for it is the quality in you they most admire.'

‘And think you it is unjust to imprison my enemies?'

‘This is your brother who has come in good faith. It would become no great king to take as a prisoner one who came with only twelve attendants. If you will give me permission to talk with him I will send him back to Normandy, and I believe I know a way in which I can give you acquittance of his pension.'

‘You have a high opinion of your talents, my lord Count.'

‘I would serve my King with all my powers, and I believe you would regret deeply to lose the respect of your subjects.'

‘None would have dared talk to my brother William as you have to me.'

‘Your brother was no Lion of Justice, sir.'

Henry said thoughtfully, ‘I believe in your loyalty to me. My brother is unfit to rule the Duchy my father left in his hands. It could well be a wise act to seize this opportunity. But you say you can send him back to Normandy and relieve me of my obligation to pay his pension. I'll keep you to this. Do what you say you can. If you fail you will face my displeasure.'

‘My lord, I know that I can succeed.'

Henry was not so sure. He continued to follow the deer but he was thinking of Robert and how foolish he had been not to take him prisoner.

The Count de Mellent rode to Winchester, where the Queen sat with her women. She was embroidering cloth which would
be made into a gown; it was an art at which she excelled and which was practised to a great degree in England.

The Count was shown into her presence, as he assured her servants that he came with some urgency.

He then told her that the Duke of Normandy was in England.

‘Does the King know?' she asked.

‘I have come from the King.'

‘He sent you to me?'

‘Nay, he does not know I come to you.'

She looked alarmed, and he told her quickly what had transpired between him and the King.

‘And why do you tell me this?'

‘Because I have an idea that you can be of great service to your husband.'

‘I do not see how.'

‘My lady, the King is incensed against his brother. Not because he comes here to remonstrate with him but because he has not paid his pension.'

Matilda was quick to understand that the King knew he had wronged Robert, and therefore he hated his brother. He was now seeking an excuse to imprison him that he might make an easy conquest of Normandy.

‘If the King harms his brother when he comes on a peaceful mission he will regret it. I know,' said the Count de Mellent.

Matilda cried, ‘I am in agreement with you. The King must not harm his own brother, particularly when he comes in friendship.' Her expression softened. She had never forgotten how gallant Robert had been when he had refused to disturb her lying-in; and afterwards when she had helped entertain him at the Court she had found him charming. He was known to be one of the most fascinating men of his day: he could charm both sexes with the utmost ease. That he was feckless and superficial and that the compliments were lightly uttered, the friendship on no firm foundation, was something which was discovered later. It was Robert's personality which throughout his life had enabled him to fail his friends and yet be able to win them back to him.

Matilda was still smarting from her discovery of Henry's
infidelities. He left her frequently and she knew full well that there were occasions when he could have been with her but preferred some other woman, some new light of love – perhaps the perennially attractive Nesta.

Robert, with his admiring glances and his charming compliments, had made her feel a desirable woman; and since her discovery of Henry's waywardness she needed to be reassured. It was not that she contemplated emulating his example. She was far too pious for that, but she did feel that she could enjoy the somewhat exciting company of her brother-in-law; and now she would be very ready to help if possible.

The Count de Mellent said, ‘I shall go to meet the Duke and tell him that he may be in danger from the King's anger. And I shall persuade him to come to you.'

‘Does the King know of this?'

‘Not that I have called on your help. He knows only that I wish to send the Duke back to Normandy, unharmed and ready to forgo his pension.'

‘How can you promise that?'

‘I believe you could help me. The King cannot pay this pension. He has projects in this country. To raise such a sum yearly would mean increased taxation and you know full well how the people hate that. It was Ranulf Flambard's methods of extracting money from the people which made them hate him and the last King.'

‘But the people are beginning to understand that Henry is a great king.'

‘That is why they must not be over-burdened by this extra taxation.'

‘Yet the King has given his word to pay this money.'

‘He could do nothing else at the time. The Norman army was in England. The fleet had deserted. There could have been another Norman conquest, and instead of our just King we could now be ruled by Robert of Normandy.'

‘So the King in truth cannot pay this pension.'

‘Not without inflicting hardship on the people.'

‘But if it was promised—'

‘My dear lady, there is more at stake than a promise. The King had to make that promise. He now has to break it.'

‘And you are asking me to help the King to break his promises?'

‘I am asking you to save the poor people of this land from further crippling taxation. I am asking you to do such service to the King your husband that he will never forget it.'

‘You convince me,' she said. ‘Pray tell me what I must do.'

The Count de Mellent intercepted Robert and his followers on the road to Winchester.

‘My lord,' said the Count, ‘what brings you here? How can you have been so ill advised as to come? The King regrets the treaty. He is determined not to pay you the pension. By coming here you have placed yourself in his hands. What do you think he will do? He will imprison you. He might even put you to death.'

Robert and the twelve knights whom he had brought with him immediately realized in what danger they had placed themselves.

‘Mayhap we should go back to Southampton,' said Robert, ‘and return to Normandy without delay.'

‘The King will not allow you to do this. If you attempted to set sail you would be stopped.'

‘Then, my friend, what do you suggest we do?'

‘The Queen remembers your last visit with gratitude. I think that she would receive you and I have no doubt that she would ask the King to give you free passage back to Normandy.'

‘The Queen is a delightful lady,' said Robert with a smile. ‘I remember how kindly she received me before. I tell you this: I shall be glad of the opportunity to be with her again.'

The Count de Mellent rode with the party to Winchester, where Matilda was waiting to receive them.

What a gracious woman she was, thought Robert, and if she was not as beautiful as some he had known, her grace and dignity and her clever mind put her well in the front rank.

She was beautifully dressed in a gown which she had embroidered herself. The work was exquisite. It was a Saxon art which they had perfected beyond anything that came from the Norman needle. The Saxons had a grace which made the Normans seem almost uncouth. They were a charming people,
if they did lack the warlike qualities of the Viking stock. Her gown was of a blue which matched her eyes. The sleeves were exaggerated to such a degree that they hung at least a yard from the wrists; her skirts swept the floor as she walked, and he noticed how the gown was laced at the waist to accentuate the trimness of her figure. Her main beauty was her hair. Which hung in two thick golden ropes reaching to her hips; there the plaits terminated in ringlets which were tied with ribbons the same colour as her gown.