The Vow on the Heron

by Виктория Холт

  The houses had been hung with banners and tapestry; the fountains ran with wine, and there was free beer in barrels for any who preferred it. In one street a golden cage had been fixed and in this was a beautiful girl who threw silver and gold filigree flowers over the Prince and the King as they rode by.

  ‘Long live the Black Prince!’ was the constant cry. ‘God bless the victor of Poitiers.’

  The King glowed with pleasure and pride and rejoiced that he had not been at Poitiers to steal any of the glory which belonged to his son. He was proud and happy to have given his people such a man.

  What a King he will make, he thought. England is sure of prosperity under him. Thank God for him.

  It was typical of the Black Prince that he had chosen for himself a somewhat insignificant black palfrey. He liked to remind people that he was the Black Prince and the blackness of his armour contrasted with the shining glory of his deeds. Now the King of France came on a magnificent showy white horse while his captor rode in some humility. Such contrasts appealed to him and in truth they called attention to his greatness.

  They came to Westminster Hall where Philippa waited to greet them. All the royal children who were in England were with her, and a great banquet had been prepared to welcome the King of France, but Philippa wanted most to see her eldest son.

  At last he stood before her. Her boy, her first-born, the best loved of all her children.

  ‘My lady,’ he said, taking her hand and kissing it.

  ‘God’s blessing on you,’ she replied.

  She greeted the King of France warmly. She was sorry for him. It must be a very sad time for him, made even more so by the wild rejoicing he had seen in the streets. England’s triumph could only be his failure. But this must be an end to the senseless war.

  At the banquet the King insisted that Jean should sit on his right hand; and beside the King of France was his son Philip, whose looks were sullen because he knew that what he had believed impossible had happened.

  Edward himself seemed a little insensitive to the feelings of his captive and seemed to expect him to join in the revelry which was asking too much.

  Lavish dishes were served and there were those which it was believed would please the King of France.

  Jean ate little and Edward at last said reproachfully : ‘Come, my lord, cast off your melancholy. You are our guests. Sing with us and be merry.’

  Jean looked steadily into Edward’s face and replied tersely: ‘How shall we sing the Lord’s songs in a strange land?’

  Philippa smiled at the King sadly and said: ‘It is a difficult time for you, my lord. I doubt not that it will come to an end ere long.’

  At this moment the cupbearer came with wine and served Edward.

  At that moment young Philip who had been looking on sprang to his feet and delivered a sharp blow across the cupbearer’s face.

  There was an astonished silence at the table. Then the boy cried out: ‘How dare you serve any before the King of France?’

  All eyes were now on Edward. What would his reaction be. The boy, his face flushed, his eyes flashing, stared back at Edward. Everyone was expecting that such an insult to the King’s cupbearer might provoke the notorious Plantagenet temper, but it was not so.

  Edward laughed and said: ‘You are indeed Philip le Hardi.’ Philip the Bold! The boy was from that day called by this name and it stayed so throughout his life.

  The King of France could see that Edward was determined to treat him with the utmost courtesy. He was given the Savoy Palace for his residence; he might hunt and hawk when he pleased.

  In fact he could lead a life of luxury. The only condition being that he remained the prisoner of the King of England.

  MURDER IN MELROSE

  WITH his great enemy captive in England Edward no longer need fear the Scots and as a result, he decreed that David the Bruce should return to his kingdom.

  David’s wife Joanna was delighted. Now they would be able to live happily together, she believed. It was what she had always hoped for. Their married life had been ill-fated from the start; they had never had a chance of any domestic happiness, and when she had been at the English Court and seen the devotion of Edward and Philippa and their family she had longed for a similar felicity. Fate had been against them. Life in the Château Gaillard had been so artificial and David had seemed indifferent to his destiny while he was in France, but she had always believed that if he could return to the land of his fathers he would change. That he had not when after seven years in France he returned to Scotland she chose to forget. There had always been trouble and those five years together in Scotland had been far from pleasant, but when he had been taken prisoner by the English and there had been another long separation she had allowed herself to dream that they had been happy together. It was eleven years since he had gone to England.

  We are older now, she promised herself. We are wiser and we shall learn to understand each other.

  The meeting was an emotional one for her. He was still very handsome and he behaved as though he were as delighted to be with her as she was with him, and for a few weeks she was very happy; then she began to see less of him because he explained he was busy with state affairs.

  The truth was she bored him. She reminded him of her sister-in-law and he had often wondered how Edward could turn a blind eye to all the beautiful women at his Court and remain the faithful husband of plump and homely Philippa.

  Joanna was not plump; she was handsome enough in a gentle way but he did not care for gentle women. He liked a certain coarseness, a bawdiness ... he liked a woman like Katherine Mortimer.

  Where was Katherine now? Missing him doubtless as he missed her. She had sworn she would not let him go. She would make plans to follow him, she had said, and it would not surprise him if one day she arrived in Scotland.

  And then what of Madame Joanna?

  An idea occurred to him. He could not wait to put it into practice. He made sure that Joanna noticed how preoccupied and uneasy he was and when she asked what troubled him he admitted that certain matters lay heavily on his mind.

  ‘It’s the treaty with your brother,’ he told her. ‘There is bound to be trouble over it. God knows I want peace but Edward will impose hard terms for that.’

  ‘I think he is eager for peace in Scotland.’

  ‘Doubtless, but on his own terms, and it may well be that some of our Scottish lairds will not take kindly to what he suggests. Edward has always been hard on me. I believe he did not approve of our marriage in the first place.’

  Joanna was silent. It was true Edward had not liked the marriage. He had avoided being present at the ceremonies. He had thought she was too young; and later of course she had sensed that he disapproved of David.

  ‘Of course he is devoted to you,’ went on David. ‘He loves well his female relations. They say his daughters can persuade him to anything. It may well be so with his sister.’

  ‘Edward has always been very kind to me.’

  ‘I know it. He always spoke so warmly of you. Now if it were you who had to deal with him instead of me ...’

  ‘You know, David, that I would do anything ... anything for peace between our two countries.’

  ‘Would you? No, it is asking too much. Besides I could not lose you now we have just come together.’

  You mean ... Go to England ... I negotiate with my brother!’

  ‘The thought entered my mind. It would mean peace ... a long long truce between our countries. That is what Scotland needs.’

  She was thoughtful. ‘I will go to England if you wish it, David.’

  ‘I wish it for Scotland but not for myself.’

  ‘We must think of Scotland before ourselves.’

  ‘It need not be for long. Oh Joanna, you could complete this business in a week. Edward would indulge you ... listen to you. What a happy fate for Scotland to have the sister of the King of England for its Queen.’

  ‘The sooner I go the better.’
>
  ‘The sooner you go the sooner you will be back.’

  ‘I will leave at once,’ she said. ‘And I promise you I will do all in my power to help this country.’

  Before the end of the week she had set out.

  It was just in time, David delightedly told himself, for what he had prophesied had come to pass. Katherine Mortimer had arrived at the palace.

  How they laughed together! How they revelled in being together! Making up for lost time, David called it.

  He did not care what those about him thought or said. Katherine was back with him, and there was no woman who could satisfy him as she did.

  They were together night and day and none of the knights or ministers could see him alone.

  What will happen, they asked each other, when the Queen returns? David did not concern himself with that question. Katherine was installed as royal mistress, the woman on whom the King doted, who was beside him at all hours and without whose advice he never acted.

  David was quite content to live in the ecstatic present.

  * * *

  Edward received his sister kindly and listened attentively to her pleas that he should not treat the Scots too harshly.

  He had not been exactly lenient and was demanding a ransom for David’s return and was also presenting him with a bill for his expenses during the time he had been in England.

  This was no small sum and Joanna pointed out that she did not see how the Scots could meet it.

  When she pleaded with him Edward was deeply touched. She was a good and faithful wife to David who did not deserve such a wife. Both he and Philippa had been deeply shocked by David’s behaviour when he was in England and Edward had discovered that Katherine Mortimer had gone north and was certain that she would now be in Scotland.

  His pity for his sister—in which Philippa joined—made him determined to help her all he could so he took pleasure in modifying his terms which pleased her very much for she felt that her journey to England had indeed been worth while.

  ‘You should stay with us a while,’ Philippa said. ‘It has been a long and tedious journey. You must not plan to leave so soon.’

  ‘I love to be with you,’ replied Joanna. ‘You have both been so kind to me. But I long to get back and tell David what I have been able to achieve.’

  Edward then laid no obstacles in her way and very soon she was on her way to Scotland.

  ‘Poor girl,’ said Edward to Philippa, ‘I trust she may not find what I fear she may when she gets there.’

  * * *

  Crossing the Border Joanna felt happy. She had come to love the dour land of her adoption. The mountains enchanted her; she had grown accustomed to the climate which was so much harsher than that of the south. If her marriage had not been so beset with disasters she could have been very happy with her husband.

  David had charm; he was undeniably handsome; she knew that women admired him. She had noticed their looks in the crowds when they rode out. In Château Gaillard there had been women ... But she preferred not to think of that. He had been such a boy then, an unhappy boy, driven from his own country. What could one expect?

  It would all be different now ... so different.

  She reached Edinburgh and rode into the castle. She had thought David would be there to meet her.

  In her chamber they had lighted a fire for her. She would be cold after her journey. They knew that she felt the cold.

  Her women helped her dress. It was a strange homecoming.

  She wanted to ask where the King was, but that would call attention to the strangeness. She thought her women were trying to tell her something.

  When she prompted them they looked embarrassed and feeling uneasy she left her apartments and went to those of the King. From them came sounds of laughter—a woman’s laughter. Yes, and that was David’s voice.

  One of the guards stepped before her. ‘My lady ...’

  She looked at him questioningly. Something was wrong, she knew. She stepped past him and opened the door.

  David was there; he was seated on his chair and at his feet on a stool sat a woman, with dark hair falling loose about her bare shoulders over which her gown had slipped down.

  ‘David! ‘ she began.

  He did not look round.

  ‘It is the Queen returned from her mission,’ he said.

  The woman did not look either. She merely laughed.

  ‘What does this mean?’ cried Joanna, her heart sinking, her mind telling her what she knew full well. This was the meaning of her attendants’ embarrassed looks, the seeking to detain her from coming to her husband’s apartments.

  ‘What does what mean?’ asked David languidly.

  She had come forward and faced them now. She saw the table on which was food and wine. One of the goblets was overturned and the wine trickled over the table.

  ‘Who is this woman?’

  The woman rose and dropped a curtsey which was full of mockery.

  ‘Katherine Mortimer my lady at your service—and the King’s,’ she said.

  ‘And who ... ?’

  ‘You might say the King’s friend,’ was the answer. Joanna stepped back, her face flushed.

  ‘I ... I think I understand,’ she said, and walked from the room.

  Neither of them moved. She heard them laughing as she went out of the room.

  Back in her own apartment she dismissed her women.

  It cannot be true, she said to herself. But she knew it was. This was worse than Château Gaillard. There it had been furtive, petty infidelities, which he had made half-hearted attempts to keep from her. This was blatant insult.

  She had deceived herself, of course. He would never change. He was weak; he was licentious, a profligate. What hope was there for their marriage? What hope for Scotland? She had been deceived throughout her life. She was foolish; everyone must be laughing at her. They would have known what he was; and she, the one who had thought herself closest to him, was the one who saw least.

  The Countess of Carrick was asking to come in.

  She was a member of the Bruce family and had been a good friend to Joanna through her troubles. Now she looked at her with great sympathy.

  ‘You have discovered then,’ she said now. ‘Oh my poor Joanna! ‘

  ‘Who is the woman?’

  ‘A low creature whom he met in England. She shared his prison with him.’

  ‘He has been faithful to her for a long time,’ said Joanna bitterly.

  ‘She followed him to Scotland. She has been openly with him since you went away.’

  ‘I shall not endure it.’

  ‘What shall you do? He’s the King. He will act as he pleases.’

  ‘What do the people think?’

  ‘They are ashamed for him. They speak so highly of you. They do not like it—but he does not care.’

  ‘I cannot stay here and suffer these insults to continue,’ said Joanna. ‘I shall go to England. I will send a messenger at once to ask my brother’s permission to stay at his Court.’

  ‘It is the best thing,’ said the Countess. ‘I will come with you. I do not care to stay here and see a member of my family behave in this way ... even though he is the King. I wonder what his father would think of him if he were living today.’

  ‘If he were,’ said Joanna mirthlessly, ‘David would not be King of Scotland.’

  ‘Aye and Scotland a happier country than it is under the son of Robert the Bruce.’

  ‘I shall prepare to leave at once,’ said Joanna, ‘for I am determined I shall not stay here to be insulted.’

  ‘We will leave tomorrow and make our way south. I am prepared because I knew what you would find and what you would feel.’

  ‘Thank you, Annabella. It is good to have friends. Now, let us make our preparations to leave.’

  Edward and Philippa greeted Joanna with a warm welcome. Edward was furious that his sister should have been treated so and said that a residence should be found for her and she should h
ave an income so that she could be completely independent of her husband.

  Meanwhile David, learning of his wife’s departure and knowing full well the reason for it, was greatly disconcerted. When he rode out the people were sullen and silent; now and then he heard voices raised against him. The Earl of Mar and several of the lords showed clearly their disapproval of his actions which had led to Joanna’s departure and the Earl pointed out the effect this was going to have on the King of England. The terms Edward had imposed were harsh enough but there was always a possibility that they might be modified. What hope was there of getting Edward to agree to this leniency when his sister had been grossly insulted?

  Edward was a stern enemy; he was also a family man, and always most angry if any harm came to those close to him.

  Distracted, David was ready to do what he could to remedy the situation except one thing. He would not give up Katherine Mortimer. When the Earl of Mar suggested she be sent back to England he was adamant and declared he would stand out against them all rather than lose Katherine.

  The Earl could see that he could well lose his kingdom through that woman and a kingdom without a king could lead to all sorts of trouble. His advice—and this was supported by most of the lords and counsellors—was that David should go at once to England and beg his wife to return with him.

  ‘It may be,’ said the Earl, out of the King’s hearing, ‘that if he is separated from Katherine Mortimer for a while he might escape from her wiles. It is a chance.’

  ‘Go to England!’ cried David. ‘Beg Joanna to return. That I will not do.’

  ‘My lord, you must do this. The Queen is a peace-loving, gentle lady. When she sees what her absence means to Scotland she will return to you. You need not go in too supplicating a manner. You can save that for when you are alone with the Queen. It is known throughout the land that we cannot meet the next instalment of your ransom, so let it be thought that you come to the King to beg him to give you time to raise the money. It is a plausible reason. But the main object is of course to bring the Queen back.’