by Edale Lane
"Oh, Richard, my son, the consummate warrior-poet, how I have missed you!"
"And I, you." His strength and his smile soothed her; at last all was well with the world, almost.
"If you would all join me," Henry invited, "we have a few details to discuss." An attendant arrived with a bottle and goblets, and he continued. "Mainz lies in the heart of our finest wine country, so please refresh yourselves."
The royals and their noble ministers took seats around a small rectangular table with Henry and Richard occupying the head and foot positions. After the drinks were poured, Henry began.
"Queen Eleanor, you have achieved what many wagered was impossible–though 'twas I who won the bet. The dowry is complete as agreed upon and all two hundred hostages are in good health, with their peerages verified." Henry, not wanting it to appear he was demanding a ransom for a kidnapped king, referred to the required sum as a dowry to accompany Richard's niece who was to marry Duke Leopold's son, Fredrick. "However, I am compelled to show you this."
The young monarch placed a letter into Eleanor's hands. Her mouth fell agape as she read it. "Prince John and King Philip have now upped their offer to 150,000 marks."
"They claim they can pay the entire amount at once, and as I have to wait on your remaining 50,000…" Henry shrugged and looked as though he was entertaining the bid.
It was Longchamp who came to the fore, speaking as one who was old and wise. "Your Highness is far too clever for that," he stated knowingly. "I can tell you for a fact their claim is false. Mayhap Philip has the 100,000 he claims to be contributing to the bribe, but verily Prince John does not. As it happens, the money he raised in England is right here in the sum Queen Eleanor has set before you. A wily thief loyal to King Richard–what's his name again?"
"Robin Hood," Richard replied jovially. "Minstrel songs of his heroics have even reached Emperor Henry's court."
"Yes, yes, Robin Hood stole the cache out from under John's nose and shuttled it off to the Queen. The Prince hasn't any silver at all–he is bluffing!"
Eleanor confirmed Longchamp's story. "Indeed, Richard's goddaughter, Marian, transported the sum to London herself. I am sorry to say that my treacherous youngest son is as adept at lying as he is at breathing. When Richard at first did not come home, he went about proclaiming the King was dead and tried to procure the throne even though he had not been named heir. Then, once word was out that Duke Leopold had captured Richard, he started more rumors and set about to turn wealthy nobles to his side. The fact is, he will not face his brother on the field of honor, and he will not honor pledges to you, Highness. If you agree to what is in this letter, he shall plague you with excuses for many months. You have counted the silver I delivered in good faith and have inspected the hostages. Would you accept the word of John and Philip over what you have seen with your own eyes?"
Glancing from Henry to her son, Eleanor was puzzled by his tranquility. He must have already known about this underhanded bribe and didn't seem the least bit troubled by it. She frowned as Richard sat back comfortably in his chair and sipped his wine.
While Henry appeared to contemplate her words, Longchamp continued in her stead. "Then there is King Philip and the 100,000 he promises, but how do we know he has that sum? After all," he said with a gesture, "He had armies in the field all season last year and is preparing them again. How could he sustain these wars of expansion after spending a small fortune on the crusade and still double the amount he previously offered Your Highness? Do the Franks have money trees? Does gold and silver fall from the sky like rain in Paris? Nay, it did not when last I visited there."
Henry appeared to nod ever so slightly at Richard before returning his attention to Eleanor. "Your chancellor makes a good argument, Your Grace, but there are other matters to consider as well. My own Duke Leopold still claims Richard assassinated his kinsman."
"Rubbish," Richard declared as he sat forward with a sudden frown. "I have already produced witnesses and evidence that the accusation is false. Asides, the whole world knows I love honor too much for such a thing. If I wished the man dead, I would challenge him to a duel face to face."
"I find it odd if the Duke truly believed the Lionheart guilty of murder, that he should still wish Richard's niece Eleanor to marry his son," she noted. "No, he just needed an excuse for capturing Richard, and the death of his kinsman was convenient."
"Mayhap," Henry conceded with a nod. "But if I am to follow through with our agreement in favor of King Philip's offer, I risk much. I will lose French favor while at the same time gaining none from England. England will resent the large sum of money brought forth and Philip will be angry with me, so which is worse?"
Walter of Rouen shook his head and steepled his fingers with elbows on the table before him. "These are anxious and difficult decisions. But Your Highness is a shrewd ruler. By honoring our agreement, you gain England's favor, not the opposite. And what can Philip do to you? He is like a small dog barking at a mighty bear."
"As I have considered it, there is one solution that shall satisfy." All eyes and ears harkened to the young emperor as he proclaimed his decision. "All will be well if King Richard were to pledge his oath of fealty to me. In turn, I would return all of his holdings on both sides of the channel–including those John promised to Philip–as his fief. I only ask 5,000 pounds a year tribute and the right to call upon Richard and his army if ever they are needed."
Richard pushed up from the table abruptly, his calm demeanor consumed by his trademark temper. "I am the King of England, son of Fredrick Barbarossa," he bellowed pointing a finger at Henry, "and I bow to none but God alone! You cannot demand that a monarch of my station demote himself to your vassal!"
Henry tilted his head with a smug expression. "Then I take it you wish to remain with me another year? The guards do enjoy your songs and pranks and find you quite entertaining."
"Bollocks!" Red-faced, Richard stomped off to a corner to brood.
Walter and Longchamp both appeared mortified, but it was Longchamp who spoke first. Presenting himself in exaggerated humility, he began, "Great Lord Emperor, assuredly there is a compromise to which we can agree. Mayhap England can pay the tribute without humiliating our King before the courts of Europe."
"Do you consider it humiliation for a king to bow to an emperor?" Henry asked with a raised brow. "I think not."
"But Your Highness," Walter added, "England is a sovereign nation. Perchance the King's holdings through the Queen on the continent could be held as fiefs."
"You are missing the point," the Emperor stated bluntly. "I need absolute assurance that England is my ally if I am to insult France. That is the fact of it."
Eleanor patted Walter's hands and turned an understanding gaze to Henry. "Let me speak with him. I can persuade the King to make a wise choice that will benefit you both."
"You may take your leave, Your Grace." Henry stood in respect as did her two ministers when she rose to her feet. "I have confidence in your influence."
Eleanor could feel the heat radiating from Richard as she approached. He offered her a sideways scowl. "Insufferable boy," he muttered in hushed rage balling his hands into fists.
She stepped up to him and gently laid a hand on his shoulder, siphoning off some of his tension. "I know."
"It isn't fair, it isn't proper, it simply isn't done!" Exasperation and frustration permeated his voice. Richard rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head.
"My best beloved, root of my heart," Eleanor began soothingly.
His gaze shot over his shoulder to her in anticipation. "You are going to tell me to agree to this travesty."
She took a step around so they stood eye to eye, let her hand trail off his arm, and commenced her entreat. "Words, Richard; they are only words, and you get to come home to a kingdom that desperately needs you."
"Nay, Mother, they are not merely words." His brows knit together as he wiped a hand down his beard. "My oath, my pledge, my word–that cannot be
broken. Moreover, I already have an arrangement with Philip. To do as Henry demands would require me to break it."
"Who could blame you, seeing Philip's betrayal?" Then she mused foxily. "A marriage vow is deemed unbreakable and yet I managed to divorce my first husband. Under the right circumstances, one can get around a pledge or devise a reason for annulment. As I see it, shifting your allegiance from a king to an emperor is trading up, just as I traded up to marry your father. Once you are home safe and sound, how can he force you to send ships and armies to his aid?"
"So, no one will fault me for breaking fealty with Philip in favor of Henry, that is clear," he reasoned aloud. "But if I give my word to Henry, honor demands that I come if he calls."
"He just wants to assure England as an ally, 'tis all. The tribute will not be a burden, and it is unlikely that an emperor with so many princes and dukes, not to mention lesser nobles pledged to him who are right here where he needs soldiers, need ever call on England at all. Let him have his moment to look important–it does nothing to diminish the man you are."
Richard unclenched his fists and shifted his weight to one leg. "Bugger it all," he sighed. Then his eyes shot to hers with renewed fire. "That miscreant brother of mine has caused much of this trouble. I could easily enough sit here another year if he weren't actively trying to steal my throne. Treason is punishable by death and I have a mind to strangle him with my own hands!"
Eleanor held his gaze with one of confident wisdom. "But you won't. A great offence requires even greater mercy."
"You would have me forgive him, after all he has done?" Refusal carved itself into a stone face.
"My son, history records not only your victories in battle, but your every word and deed. For centuries to come, rulers will look to your example for guidance. What legacy would you leave?"
"It is not enough that I be the greatest king of my own time, but you would have me be a king for the ages!" he exclaimed with a humorless laugh.
"It is not what I would have, Richard," she explained stepping closer and bringing her hand to his ruggedly handsome face. "It is who you are. Furthermore, you demonstrate your power by treating John's treason as a mere trifle, declaring to the world that he never presented any real danger to you."
"But we both know he came very close to taking my crown, if not my life as well," he answered, wrapping Eleanor's hand in his. "Had it not been for that random outlaw…" He kissed her hand before lowering it along with his head in contemplation.
"I do not believe there is anything random about Robin Hood," commented Eleanor. "Come now, let us waste no more time. England eagerly awaits her King."
When she took his arm, Richard's foul mood evaporated, his usual good humor taking its place. He smiled at her warmly and made an observation. "You are already the most extraordinary woman in the whole world, Mother. I shudder to think about the power you would wield if you had been born a man!"
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sherwood Forest, March 24, 1194
Richard's loyal barons in the north, rallied by Maid Marian's visits, lay in siege around the lone hold-out of Nottingham, but the castle retained command of the bridge over the River Trent. Therefore, King Richard and his escort, now returned to England, took a different route that passed by Clipstone Castle, a hunting lodge on the northern edge of Sherwood Forest.
The King had never hunted in the celebrated wood and planned to return once the rebels had been dealt with. But after a good night's rest, he decided on one small detour before taking charge of the forces besieging John's allies. As he and Sir Robert sat with their squires and a couple of knights who traveled with them, Richard proposed an idea.
"Friends, while I wish to make haste to Nottingham to end this rebellion, curiosity compels me to see for myself what this outlaw Robin Hood is about. But I want to do so in a way to discern his true intentions; therefore, I have a plan. We can still arrive at Nottingham on the morrow, mayhap with reinforcements, if things go as I suppose."
"But Sire," Robert protested sitting forward with concern etched on his face. "Purposely setting out to find a gang of outlaws in the forest would put your royal head in danger."
Richard smiled with confidence at his companion. "I think not, but should peril arise, I feel secure with you at my side. Now, here is what I have in mind…"
*~*~*
Virgin chartreuse leaves bathed in morning dewdrops unfurled themselves beneath the springtime sun. Robyn gently brushed her fingertips along soft yellow and pink blossoms as she and her companions strode through the forest toward the road they had chosen to stake out that day. She breathed in fragrant pine and honeysuckle while the songs of finches and robins filled the trees. Spring is nature's evidence of the resurrection, mother always said, she recollected. Although there was no new sheriff, her camp of displaced persons feared to return home while Prince John's barons held Nottingham, and they still needed to be fed. Therefore, they continued the practice of accosting wealthy passersby through Sherwood requiring a donation from them for the poor.
They chose one of their favorite ambush sites and assumed hiding places to wait. After a few hours a vicar and his attendants came riding along at a lazy walk. The lads all snapped to attention awaiting Robyn's signal. As the small party of clergymen reached a precise spot, Robyn dropped from a tree branch overhead landing right beside the vicar's horse. The startled animal shied and reared, but Robyn grabbed hold of its bridle to steady the steed. At the same time Little John and Alan popped out onto the road at her flanks while Much, David, and Arthur closed in behind the six men.
"Good morrow, generous Vicar! I am sure your purse will prove heavy enough to bestow an offering to the poor," she proclaimed in good humor.
"And if I should refuse?" inquired the priest.
"Ah, now, you don't want to do that," Little John assured him as he took a threatening step forward. "If so, my staff would have words with you."
"Certs you would not harm a humble servant of God," the clergyman answered raising his palms innocently.
All at once Robyn was overcome by an inexplicable feeling. While something indeed struck her as familiar about the vicar, she retained no doubt regarding the identity of the man seated on the bay to his right. He wore a serious expression with silver brushed temples, a clean-shaven square jaw, thick lips, a crooked nose from where it had been broken long ago, and Marian's eyes.
No sooner than she realized her mouth had fallen open, she shut it. And that means this is… King Richard! She swallowed the exclamations of joy that formed in her heart and tried her best to pretend she had not identified them. If he comes through the forest wearing the guise of a cleric, it is for a reason. I only hope Sir Robert doesn't recognize me.
Utilizing great restraint, Robyn composed herself and replied, "Certainly not, Father. But no humble servant of God would refuse to give alms to the poor."
Richard scanned about spotting the others, accessing their strength Robyn guessed. "And where are these poor of which you speak? I only see bandits and highwaymen. Perchance is one of you Robin Hood?" he asked looking at Little John.
"Aye," Robyn replied. Richard's eyes held surprise as he moved his gaze to her. "If I show you those whom I protect, would you readily give of your coins?"
"Well, now, lad, that is a real possibility. Lead us to your camp."
"Not so fast," Robyn said holding tight to the horse's bridle. "Tell me the truth; are you loyal to Prince John or to King Richard?"
A twinkle shone in his eye at the question while a subtle grin tugged at FitzWalter's lips. "Verily, you could find no man more loyal to the King than I," he pronounced with authority.
"I am glad to hear it, Your Grace, as the territory is crawling with traitors of late. Any friend of King Richard is a friend of mine," she avowed. "But, I am afraid I cannot lead you and your party to our camp without first blindfolding you. It is imperative that our hide-out remain secret, even from a good vicar and his attendants."
Ric
hard shifted in his saddle and FitzWalter shot him a wary gaze. "I am not comfortable placing myself in the hands of strangers. How do I know you do not intend to lead us to our deaths?"
"Reverend Father," Robyn said motioning to her armed cadre. "If we wanted to do you harm, we would not need to coax you farther into the forest to do so. I'm afraid if you want to see those who have been abused, condemned and cast out by Prince John's agents, you will simply have to trust me. Otherwise, please hand over your purse."
Despite FitzWalter's disapproving glower, the King nodded in agreement. "Very well," he acquiesced and slid out of his saddle, his companions following his lead. Once they all had cloths over their eyes, the men remounted their horses, and Robyn and her crew led them through the forest.
As they traveled, Richard made inquiries. "So, Hood, I heard it from a certain abbot that you and your band stole a huge treasure from Prince John not long ago."
"That's right," Alan concurred, beaming with pride. "'twas the most brilliant theft of all time, I say!"
"No doubt," he agreed with a nod in Alan's direction. "But the part I found hard to believe was when he claimed you turned the entire sum over to the Queen to help buy King Richard's freedom."
"As surely as you live, milord," boomed Little John's voice.
"But wouldn't a thief such as yourself keep a portion if not the lot of it?"
"Robyn don't keep nothing for himself," Little John snapped, "and you'll be witness to that soon enough."
"Truly?" he asked with raised brows tugging at his blindfold.
Then Robyn, who led the King's horse, answered suavely, "Not everyone is who they appear to be, milord."
At that, she heard him chuckle. "How right you are, lad."
*~*~*
Upon reaching Hood's camp, the six men in clergy robes became the immediate focus of attention. Robyn told them to remove their blindfolds and the visitors dismounted. She watched Richard's look of astonishment at the multitude of women and children, the crippled and maimed, those with nowhere else to turn. "What happened to all these people's homes? Why are they here in the forest with you?" he asked.