Heart of Sherwood

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Heart of Sherwood Page 16

by Edale Lane


  Hamlin de Warenne, Earl of Surrey, (formerly Hamelin de Anjou) hailed from Eleanor's holdings across the channel. He picked up a meat pie, then pinned Fitz Neal with a scrutinizing gaze. "It seems that all the attention drawn to the treasure would alert thieves who will likely try to steal it," he commented before taking a hearty bite.

  "Yes, but-" Hubert Walter paused dramatically, a knowing sparkle in his eyes. He sat on George's other side. As the Chief Justiciar and Archbishop of Canterbury, he was the most high-ranking man in England outside the royal family. "Word just happened to leak out that a Holy Relic, recovered by our brave Christian warriors from the clutches of the infidels, is being held in the Cathedral under heavy guard, waiting to be revealed at Christmas midnight mass."

  "Clever!" Hamlin exclaimed, as he munched down the mincemeat. He had left off his chain mail for the formal meeting, but still wore a rich mahogany doublet over his deep wine tunic, and as always, kept an arming sword at his side.

  "Your Grace." Color rose in Eleanor's cheeks as a mischievous grin crossed her lips. "Surely the head of the Church in England did not tell a lie."

  "Indeed I did not," Hubert answered, mirroring the expression. "I merely mentioned the possibility of the arrival of an important relic to one of the sisters and, when the guards began appearing, the rumor spread."

  "We have been most careful with keeping the location of the silver chests secret," Fitz Neal assured them. He opened a small ledger book. "I have recorded each of your deposits here, but let us go over them to be certs there are no errors. Sir de Warenne, I show twelve thousand from Anjou." His eyes met Hamlin's who nodded while he washed down his last morsel with a draught from his goblet.

  "That is after three rounds of collections," Hamlin explained. "I do believe every lord, merchant, and commoner in the land has been thoroughly relieved of their clinkers."

  Eleanor's gaze settled on the hairy, robust Hamlin. She could not help but be reminded of her late husband whenever they were together. The illegitimate nature of his birth had barred him from succeeding to any throne, but he had been supportive of his half-brother. Eleanor had been pleased that Henry arranged an advantageous marriage for the young man granting him the title Earl of Surrey. This once knight, currently earl, was a better uncle to her Richard than John was a brother.

  "Yes, I am sure," Fitz Neal muttered, "as with those in my district, which by the by has contributed nine thousand silver marks. Now, Lord Arundel, I have twelve thousand five hundred for you."

  Arundel lifted a handkerchief to his mouth and coughed while he nodded. "Aquitaine has done her part," he said meeting the Queen's eyes. She inclined her head toward him in approval. She worried for this William whose health had been at issue for months. And yet rather than send an envoy, he had come in person to present her homeland's portion of the ransom. Normans are a hearty lot, she thought proudly, even when they are ailing.

  "Indeed," the Bishop agreed. "Now for the London district; Sir Londonstone, it says here you brought in ten thousand marks."

  The mayor stroked his beard with one hand while reaching for a wedge of cheese with the other. "That matches my records, Your Grace. I fear that many of the individual collectors hired may have diverted coins into their own corrupt pockets. I have not been able to personally supervise them all."

  The Queen Mother was pleased with Henry Fitz-Ailwin's appointment as the capital's first mayor. In addition to being a capable administrator, he endeavored to instill a sense of chivalry, culture, and learning in the city as she had requested. He was also honest, a trait she greatly appreciated.

  Fitz Neal nodded. "I suspect the same deceit regarding my collections as well."

  "Leave it to a national crisis to bring out the grift in folks," William Marshall said with a sigh, shaking his head in disgust. He picked up a meat pie and bit off a large portion. Of all her advisors, ministers, and subjects, Eleanor loved him most. If only he was unmarried, and I was twenty years younger, she thought before reality sunk in. Very well, thirty years younger.

  Hubert finished out the tally. "From the churches and monasteries of England, I have acquired eight thousand, five hundred silver marks. Everyone was willing to cooperate, save Geoffrey the Bastard of York who refused, declaring that the diocese of York holds primacy in England rather than Canterbury; therefore, he owed me nothing. In truth, I never expected his cooperation."

  "One must wonder," Marshall posed to the group, "if mayhap his loyalty and his blunt are pledged to Prince John. My brother Henry, who is Bishop of Exeter, speaks poorly of him."

  "I have found Geoffrey foremost to serve his own purposes," Hubert replied, "and everyone else be damned. Still," he added with a shake of his head, "he insists that he opposes John's rebellion plans and remains loyal."

  "Let us move on," Eleanor said. She didn't have time to spend squabbling over what the product of Henry's infidelity was doing to upset everybody around him. Richard had granted Geoffrey the prestigious position of Archbishop as his father had asked, giving him great power, and still his bastard brother held bitter resentment toward her son. He was ambitious, possessed of a tumultuous nature, and had a habit of excommunicating anyone who spoke against him. Eleanor dismissed him as one would an irritating fly.

  "While we have approximately fifty-two thousand German marks worth of silver, etcetera, under guard at St. Paul's, my youngest son has yet to appear with the portion of ransom he had promised to obtain. The last letter I received from him was over a month ago when he reported all was well, and the coins were flowing in." She sighed, clasping her hands together on the table before her. "We cannot count on him to turn over any assets he acquires; furthermore, I fear he will use what he can gather against us."

  "Have you any word from your spies, Your Grace?" Mayor Fitz Ailwin inquired.

  "No specific details at this time," she replied. "Hubert, I am so deeply in your debt for the unenviable task you had in collecting state funds from Church coffers. And I can guarantee that your monarchs would not have asked it of you had there not been extreme circumstances. We will do our best to repay each bishopric and monastery in short order."

  Hubert inclined his head. "I see it as a necessary evil and completely concur with your decision in the matter." He took a sip of his wine and listened as she continued.

  "Thank you for your generous and ungrudging approval. In desperation, I have written to Pope Celestine III asking if there is more the Church will do."

  "But Your Highness," Bishop Fitz Neal interjected. "Our Holy Father has already excommunicated both Leopold of Austria and the Holy Roman Emperor for blatant disobedience to his decree against kidnapping Christian rulers to hold for ransom. What further actions are within his power?"

  Eleanor gave him an incredulous stare. "Surely you jest? He is the Pope! His resources are limitless, and it is quite clear to the rest of Europe that Leopold and Henry are not concerned in the least with the security of their eternal souls. Excommunication means nothing to monarchs who consider themselves above the Bishop of Rome."

  "I beg your pardon, Queen Eleanor," Fitz Neal responded with a bowed head. "I understand this is a trial for you, even more so than the rest of us. But there is no precedent for a Pope to contribute financially from Rome's resources."

  "As I recall, it is also unprecedented for a Christian king to kidnap another Christian king during a time of war with the Saracens," she duly noted. Eleanor then turned her attention back to the group at large. "Be that as it may, I have been in continual negotiations with Henry Hohenstaufen. I informed the 'emperor', as he likes to be called, that 100,000 marks of silver was an impossible amount. Why, that would equal more than twice the annual sum of all the money made by every person in England! What's more, we were already on the brink of financial ruin after spending nearly the entire national treasury on the crusades. I requested that he reduce his demands to seventy thousand marks–still an absurd demand, but more attainable. Therefore he has replied with a counter-proposal."
>
  She opened the emperor's letter while taking a moment to wet her tongue from her goblet. Her ministers sat forward in their seats more attentively than before.

  "He says he is sympathetic to our inability to raise the required funds in a timely manner and recognizes that we assuredly wish the return of our King, and so forth, but he must have assurances." Then finding the appropriate line, she read from the letter.

  "It will be acceptable to his Royal Highness to release Richard the Lionhearted upon delivery of seventy thousand silver marks along with two hundred noble hostages to be held in our land until a complete amount of one hundred and fifty thousand in silver be paid."

  "One hundred and fifty!" exclaimed Marshall. "That is another year's full income for the country!" The men shook their heads in dismay, each turning to comfort from the food or drink set before them.

  "Longchamp will be given charge over the hostages while they are away, to ensure their wellbeing, and that no harm befalls them while we continue to raise money to bring them back home," the Queen continued.

  "Longchamp!" Arundel's exclamation seemed more than Eleanor thought he could have mustered and, in fact, it was following by a coughing fit.

  "Your Highness," Hubert addressed with concern in his voice. He gestured with his hand as he spoke. "Justiciar Longchamp's behavior is often unseemly and lacking discretion."

  "Many of the nobles will be reluctant to entrust him with their sons for several years," Bishop Fitz Neal added. "He is somewhat undisciplined in his personal practices."

  Hamlin sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his broad chest, scowling. "Good God, my lords, just say it like it is! The man is a sodomite, and every court from here to the Holy Land knows it. They may tolerate him in France, as Phillip is more indulgent of that kind of thing, but-"

  "That is enough, my lords!" Eleanor raised her voice and her chin as her authority quelled their complaints.

  She remembered the talk when Richard was a younger man, and he and then Prince Phillip had been close–very close. Her son had confided in her that he loved the dauphin and did not wish to travel to England and be separated from him. She knew Richard well, but she likewise understood politics. There could have been no good end to this liaison. She worked behind the scenes to discourage the affair, urging her son to marry or at least to travel. Then Richard became entangled in the power struggle with his brothers against his father and spent less and less time with Phillip, who he then described as 'clinging like a choking vine.' So he severed the relationship, and that may be one reason King Phillip was now conspiring with John against him, for what lover wishes to be the jilted one? The subsequent reputation Richard earned as a fearsome warrior crushed any rumors from circulating in regard to his masculinity.

  Still, Eleanor knew her son's heart and his inclinations, and that he had other lovers since. She was proud he had learned the lesson of discretion; sadly, Longchamp could honestly care less how he was perceived.

  The men quieted, but retained their worried expressions even as Eleanor spoke with regret. "Longchamp is now an old man, and incapable of forcing anyone. No matter how distasteful you may find his personal habits, the justiciar is proficient in his responsibilities, and Richard has confidence in him. If the nobles will not entrust him with their sons, they can certs trust him with their daughters. Moreover, it will be my solemn undertaking to visit the noble houses, calling upon them to send a family member to stand in the King's place."

  "As you say, Your Grace," Hamlin replied respectfully with a nod in her direction.

  "So, if you accept the offer," Hubert began, "we still need to raise at minimum eighteen thousand more, in addition to money for the trip. We have been through three rounds of tax collections already. Can it be done this year, or must we wait for spring?"

  Mayor Fitz Ailwin gave the expected answer. "That is contingent on what Prince John does with the funds he has been extracting in the north."

  "Verily, it depends upon us getting possession of the tax money John has raised, whether by his relinquishment or not. I am anticipating a correspondence anytime now from one of my Nottingham spies regarding a new resource we may be able to employ in accomplishing that task. So, my lords, I have not given up hope on having the King returned to us by Christmas. Does anyone have a better solution than to tell Emperor Henry that we agree to his latest demands?"

  The ministers exchanged glances, no one struck with a more inspired proposal. Then Hubert said, "Considering his current line of thought, Your Grace, if we ask him to lower the initial payment to fifty thousand, he will simply say we then owe him a hundred and twenty thousand more and four hundred noble hostages, which leaves us in no better position. But if we cannot raise the complete amount-"

  "Then I will stall him with more negotiations while we do," she declared. "My lords, I wish to express my most sincere gratitude to you all for your tireless and thankless efforts in producing this incredible sum which you have brought for the freedom of my dear son." The words caught in her throat and, at that moment, Eleanor experienced a rare public burst of emotion. She was so practiced, so poised, so prepared for every eventuality that nothing ever escaped her control. But seeing the devotion of her ministers, and hoping finally to have her cherished son home in a matter of months, seized her heart and tugged. A tear crept into her voice and into the corner of her eye, one that she stubbornly fought back.

  "It is our honor and privilege, Your Grace," Hamlin said warmly.

  So much like my Henry and my Richard, she thought, and took comfort in his company.

  *~*~*

  After the meeting disbanded, Eleanor invited Sir William Marshall alone to escort her on a walk around the grounds for a private conversation. "Must you truly depart for your estate in Ireland anon?" she asked, distressed by his decision.

  "Your Highness, I should be there to oversee the harvest, and my wife is with child again. It is best for her to return home now before she gets too far along for travel."

  "Congratulations!" she gushed. "That makes the fourth? You have been busy."

  "Thank you, and you are correct; two sons and a daughter thus far," he answered with fatherly pride. "Asides, what need have you of me without the rest of the council? I am no financier."

  She took his arm as they passed the gardens. "I know I cannot keep you for myself, William, but your presence brings with it strength, and England needs your strength now."

  "Rest assured, if battle is required, I will be here in an instant to raise the standard," he pledged with sincerity.

  Eleanor titled her head to gaze on him fondly. "All the more reason why I wish it to be you who should come along to guard my person as I visit noble families to query for hostages. You are the only man, living or dead, who has ever unseated my son Richard in tournament or in battle; who better to keep me safe?"

  William lowered his head, a rosy color rising in his cheeks. Then he sighed. "I can do the next best thing. My nephew John, son of my oldest brother, is serving as squire to me. I have trained him and he excels in the fighting arts. He has also been introduced to the music and literature of courtly love, but could benefit from your excellent tutelage. Mayhap you will allow him to attend you in this endeavor."

  She smiled in response. "That is an offer which I cannot refuse."

  They were interrupted by the aviary keeper, Marceau. "Pardon me, Your Highness, my lord," he said as he bowed to each, "but you asked me to inform you at once when your next correspondence arrived."

  "Yes, yes," Eleanor replied eagerly, releasing William's arm to stretch out her hand in anticipation of the note.

  "This arrived just moments ago, and so I went in search of Your Highness." The Norman handed her the small case he had removed from the pigeon, then bowed and scurried off while Eleanor withdrew a small roll of parchment from the cylinder.

  She began walking again and William fell in step. Her eyes lit with interest at the note and she passed it to her First Knight. "What do you make
of this?"

  He spoke in a low voice as he read the words aloud to her. "Hood is loyal to Richard, skillful and works on England's behalf. Shall I bring him in? M." He wrinkled his brow and handed the paper back to Eleanor. "I take it this Hood is the resource you spoke of?"

  "Yes," she said brightly, securing the message inside the locket that hung around her neck. "He is a bandit of sorts, has been giving that scheming Sheriff of Nottingham a right fitful time of it. It would seem he robs from the rich and gives to the poor. Why, it is almost chivalrous!"

  "And so," William speculated as he watched autumn colored leaves dance in the breeze. "If John won't give us the money he has raised, perhaps Hood could steal it for us."

  "Indeed." Her voice was practically gleeful in its enthusiasm while a speculative glimmer shone in her dark eyes. "But did you notice Marian's wording?"

  William looked baffled. "What of it?"

  "She speaks like she knows the man, and that part about 'shall I bring him in?' How could she do that unless she is already speaking with him? Curious, very curious indeed. Are you acquainted with any baron's son who goes by Robin or Robert or similar sounding names who is also an expert marksman?"

  He stroked his beard thoughtfully, then shook his head. "Not that I am aware of, or that live near Nottingham, anyway. Do you think the Sherwood bandit is a nobleman?"

  "I think he is someone Richard's goddaughter trusts and, because I trust her, I will proceed accordingly. The intelligence I have collected thus far confirms my suspicions. The Sheriff, Sir Guy, and John are plotting something, and they have been collecting money. Now to discover the exact nature of their scheme, and then we shall rely on Marian's chivalrous thief to get us that silver."

 

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