A Sister's Crusade

by Ann Turner

  Richard put his hand on Marshal’s arm. ‘Of that I have no doubt, my friend. I shall spend my reign patrolling my territories in France, and will be forced to spend some time in England – a thought I do not relish in the least. Rouen shall be the beating heart and the capital of my territories, while England shall be its stinking arse.’ He gave a shout of encouragement and spurred his horse onwards, towards the coast and the crossing to England.

  26

  The highest clergy in the land proceeded in a sedate, stately procession from the Palace of Whitehall, leading their King Richard, under a canopy of silk held aloft by four of his barons, dressed in a coarse woollen shirt, and plain hose, towards Westminster Abbey, flanked by the Bishops of Bath and Durham. The crowds of Londoners lining the route cheered deliriously. Here was a man that looked like a king. He was tall, strong, golden and handsome, and a crusader who promised to do God’s work on earth and rid Jerusalem of those who should not have been there. Never in their history had there been a man so suited to the exalted position of the King of England.

  By Richard’s decree, all Jews and women were not permitted to attend his coronation, so only the greatest men in the land were privy to this magnificent spectacle. They watched as the new king humbly entered the Abbey to the glorious sounds of fanfares and choirs singing, and advanced solemnly to the altar. In a private box, alone and unseen, sat his mother, Eleanor, who watched with pride as her son passed by. Despite her great age, she felt rejuvenated; she was free and was the Queen of England again until Richard took a wife, when she would then be known as Queen Dowager. However, that could wait for now. Eleanor had invested everything into this golden son of hers, even when young Henry had been alive. She had known that this beautiful man had the potential to become more than just a duke and a vassal of France. From the first moment she had held him, she knew he would be her favourite child and was destined for greatness – and she had been proved right.

  She would slip out of the Abbey after the coronation, unseen. Though it was not in her nature to slip unseen anywhere, she would do so for her son. They would be seen together by their adoring subjects soon after.

  At the altar and before Holy Relics, Richard swore to be a just, wise and honourable king; to protect the weak and the helpless, and to uphold the laws of the land. He was then stripped to the waist and anointed with Holy Oil on his palms, breast and head, before the golden spurs were attached to his heels and he was clothed in the royal robes. Richard then sat on Saint Edward’s throne and the Archbishop of Canterbury lowered the mighty crown onto his head. He received the sceptre in his right hand and the rod of royalty in his left. The roar of God save the king echoed to the rafters of the abbey. He sat, while hymns praising him were sung, looking out at the faces of the congregated men. They were not only loyal subjects, but earls, barons and lords who would finance his crusade. In his astute mind, he calculated each man’s worth, and what they could individually bring to the coffers and mustered armies that would travel to the Holy Land to do God’s work.

  During the service, a bat was disturbed from its roost and flew towards the king. There was consternation at the sight of the scared creature flying askew, panic-stricken by the resonating sounds of the many voices. This was a bad omen for the king’s reign, as it flew around in a futile attempt to escape. It swooped past the king’s head, upwards and then back down, its wings brushing Richard’s face. He struck out at the animal, hitting it and sending it crashing to the floor, squealing in pain.

  ‘Do not fear what you have seen. It is an omen to show I shall protect Jerusalem from dark forces!’ thundered Richard, as the injured bat lay dying by the throne, pathetically attempting to move its broken wings.

  This reasoning was satisfactory and there was a loud cheer from all. The coronation service and festivities continued with no further impediment.

  However, the following day, at the great banquet held to celebrate the coronation of the new king, the Jews, who had been barred the previous day, came to the hall at Westminster – not with malice, but to present the king with gifts. They were not permitted entry. Onlookers decided they were here, instead, to cause trouble and set upon them, beating and robbing them. One, a man named Benedict, became so scared of being murdered by the angry mob that he cried out that he had come to be baptised as a Christian. In doing so, he saved his life. News of the attack on the Jews at Whitehall spread like wildfire throughout London and more attacks occurred. Houses and business were set alight and burnt to the ground.

  On hearing about the riots, King Richard sent a detachment of his men into the streets of London to find who had instigated the trouble. He ordered that the offenders be arrested and hung. This was not to placate the Jews, but to prevent plundering and arson to Christian properties as retribution.

  When Hugh finally returned to his apartments in Whitehall Palace, Aubrette was waiting for him to tell her about the coronation and the banquet. He related to her everything that had happened, including the bat at the coronation and the riots against the Jews. He omitted spending intimate time alone with the king once the banquet had come to an end, but he need not have cared.

  Hugh spoke of Richard’s impatience to begin preparations for the crusade. He had already began to sell off chattels of the crown and, with his chancellor, sat down to discuss the taxes to be levied against the common people of England to pay to finance the enterprise. He had put up many titles and castles for sale, and money began to fill the coffers.

  27

  Over in France, King Philip’s preparations were more advanced and he was ready to set out for the Holy Land. This enraged the King of England; he had wanted to travel alongside Philip, so that they could arrive in splendour at Acre together.

  The king’s mother, Queen Eleanor, had been busy sending emissaries across Europe, searching for a suitable princess for her son to marry. Her instructions were to look for unmarried princesses that were young enough and impressionable enough to be controlled, and healthy enough to bear children. She then remembered a princess from Navarre that Richard had met while visiting the province, who seemed to be everything required of a future Queen of England. Her sharp mind recalled that he had commented on the fair princess, so she concentrated on Navarre and made discreet investigations, eventually discovering that the young woman remained unmarried. Eleanor detained her son from his business and suggested the possibility of marriage to this young woman.

  ‘She is Princess Berengaria of Navarre. Her parents are Sancho and Sancha. Do you remember meeting her? She is still comparatively young and I am sure she will be an obedient and fertile wife for you. She will not question your activities,’ Eleanor said, firmly.

  Richard rolled his eyes. ‘Mother, I am sure I do not know what you mean,’ he said.

  She sharply rapped him across the shin with her stick, making him shout out in pain. ‘Do not try to make a fool of me, boy. It may not be spoken of, but many know. Berengaria will suit you and give you children. You are king now and you must sire a son before you get yourself killed on your crusade.’

  ‘I shall not get killed, Mother. There will be plenty of time for me to have sons,’ he assured, confidently, and received a second rap across the shins.

  ‘If that sodomite Hugh Fulbert could bear sons, this kingdom would have its heir,’ she snapped.

  ‘Mother!’ warned Richard. ‘You know to whom you speak.’

  ‘Yes, a king who is my son and reluctant to marry. I shall travel to Navarre and see their princess for myself. I will bring her to you and you will marry her,’ Eleanor answered, fiercely. Standing, she regarded her son. ‘Look at you, Richard. You are tall and strong, and you have the physique of a god. Everyone in England adores you. You could pick any woman you desired and they would give themselves to you. The husbands would give their wives to you, yet you shun their company.’

  The king, scowling, knew not to argue with Eleanor
. She was the only woman who could talk to him this honestly. Her opinions were always right, and if he had to marry, then why not Princess Berengaria? At least she would come to him a grateful virgin, whom he could control and mould into the submissive queen he needed.

  28

  Time passed and the finances were raised. Richard and his army were ready to depart on the crusade. To his own amazement, the people of England had willingly paid higher taxes. He could not believe it when his tax gathers had returned with bulging coffers, telling him that most people praised him for his fight in the Holy Land. Why did they hold him in such affection when he had so much disregard for them? What did it matter, anyway? He had the money; he had the ships, the machines of war – everything he needed. Nothing would stop him now. Hugh de Glanville and William Marshal were installed as regents to rule alongside Eleanor during his absence. His time had come; this was to be his moment in history.

  Richard wrote to his mother in Navarre and told her to bring Berengaria to him in Sicily, as he was planning to stop there to see his sister, Joanna. News had reached him that her husband, the King of Sicily, had died and that the late king’s brother, Tancred, had taken the crown, stolen her dowry and imprisoned Joanna. No one treated a Plantagenet like that. Richard would free his sister, reclaim her dowry and teach the usurper a lesson never to be forgotten.

  The citizens of Winchester had not seen such a gathering of men of all ranks for years. Outside the city walls, a town of tents had sprung up that was full of regular soldiers, yeoman and serfs – all mustered by their overlords into the service of their king, some more willingly than others.

  There was gambling with dice and musicians playing jolly tunes. Grooms tended to the horses, while cooks stirred blackened pots that were suspended over fires. Wandering between the tents, the camp followers flirted with the men and offered their services to them in quiet corners. Captains drilled troops of men, bawling at them as they marched in amateurish haphazard lines and threatening that he would kill them first before the Saracens got their hands on them. Children ran along side the marching troops, parodying the way they marched. They laughed and taunted them, before dashing towards a groom leading several horses to their enclosure. The boys would plead to be lifted onto the horses’ backs, while the girls stroked their soft muzzles and gave them fistfuls of grass to eat.

  The lords, barons and the wealthiest of men accompanying the king on his crusade were making their way towards the castle, assembling so as to receive their final instructions. Now the time of departure was approaching, there was an air of exhilaration for the adventure ahead. These were the richest men in the land and their contributions, both fiscal and physical, were gratefully received.

  Aubrette, walking alongside her husband, entered the great hall at Winchester Castle and saw that it was full of men. There was a buzz of continuous sound, like a thousand bees reverberated. Men were milling around, talking amongst each other about the forthcoming crusade – some more animated than others. Hugh headed towards a group of men he knew were attached to the king, and within this group was Simon.

  Aubrette gave a small scream of pleasure as she saw Rowena standing just behind him, looking bored and alone. Rowena turned, recognising the voice above the hubbub, and cried out with joy. With both their husbands watching, they flew into each other’s arms, laughing and crying all at once. Arm in arm they went to an alcove at the side of the hall to catch up after such an absence.

  Rowena told Aubrette how well Eustace and Raymond were doing and that she would be proud of the boys. She showed her sister a small locket she wore around her neck, and inside were two blond curls that she had cut from the boys’ hair. They had been sent to live with Oswyn and Petronella in England while she and their father were away. Oswyn had remained at Romhill, as he had not regained his full health since the plague.

  Aubrette told her sister how unhappy she was in her marriage and that Hugh disliked her as much as she disliked him. For the sake of appearances, they attempted to act civilly to all who saw them in public. They lived their private lives separately and this suited them. Not all of the rumours regarding King Richard and Hugh had been silenced, and it was known that they would never be. The two women were happy to be reunited and discussed how they had been brought along to accompany the princess who was to marry the king.

  This reunion was tinged with mixed feelings for Aubrette. She had not forgiven Simon for giving her to Hugh without a second thought, but seeing him again made her feel that familiar sensation of desire. Despite wanting to hate him, and despite knowing that she should hate him, she wondered whether he noticed the furtive glances she kept sliding at him. He appeared not to, as he was intent in conversation with others.

  The king, flanked by two of his generals, now appeared from an antechamber, wearing a white tabard on which a red cross glowed over his armour. He wore a chain coif on his head and carried his helmet with a royal circlet attached around it under his arm. He mounted a dais, holding up his gauntleted hands, and shouted for silence from the assembled men. They turned their attention to him, listening.

  ‘My fellow crusaders, my men at arms,’ he paused, scanning the expectant faces and smiling. ‘My friends, today we begin the greatest venture of our lives – the greatest venture of our times. Today we march forward onto the Holy Land, where we shall wrest Jerusalem from the filthy grip of the infidel!’ Cheering rolled around the hall. ‘Many of us will perish and not return, but know ye this, we will die in the knowledge that we have brought Jerusalem back to Christianity and God Himself.’ He pointed a finger towards the ceiling of the hall. ‘We shall be seated at His right hand, for we have done His work here on earth.’

  Richard drew his broadsword and held it high. The cheering erupted again. ‘Go forth and rouse your men; go forth and tell them that God shall smile on us and protect us! We are soldiers of Christ! We shall be victorious!’

  There was tumultuous cheering and roaring from the men. Many drew their swords, also holding them high. In a cacophony of sound, they began striking sword on sword and beating their fists on the breastplates of their armour. The king surveyed the scene before him. He roared with them and, leaping down from the dais, pushed his way through the press of men. He accepted their praise and many slapped him on the shoulder as he headed for the sturdy oak doors that swung open for him. He was then met with a tidal wave of noise from the ordinary men outside, who had heard the cheering from within.

  Richard raised his hands, waving at them, and repeated his speech to the common men. With a response like this, and with God on their side, they could not fail. They would succeed.

  29

  King Richard sat astride his tall and powerful grey warhorse, Great William, at the head of the many columns of men in order of their rank, high status and seniority. He was preceded by standard bearers, who proudly carried the Royal Standard, the Cross of Saint George and Richard’s own pennant for Aquitaine. The crusaders were resplendent in their white tabards and red crosses behind him. They were a splendid sight for the people of Winchester to see, and the crowds cheered and shouted blessings to the brave crusaders for their fight to bring Jerusalem back to Christianity. Women threw kisses and flowers, small children ran alongside the soldiers, shouting loudly. Many of the young boys brandished wooden swords, play acting killing Saracens.

  Behind those on horseback, the regular yeomen and serfs mustered by their lords in shambolic lines. Some wanted to be part of this historic venture, but most were here by order of their lords. Cooks, servants and medics followed, and behind these, wagons carrying provisions and weaponry were hauled by packs of sturdy mules. Bringing up the rear, covered carriages conveying the women. This included Aubrette and Rowena, who were sitting side by side, hand in hand, excited at the adventures that lay ahead for them.

  The crusaders crossed the Narrow Sea with no incident and marched through Richard’s dominions, gathering suppo
rt and men on the way. They rested and replenished provisions at castles along the route, heading south for the port of Marseilles from where they would sail to Sicily. King Philip, already ahead of Richard, travelled overland through Italy.

  However, news filtered through that Philip had been taken ill and was forced to suspend the march south until he had recovered. Richard read the dispatch that described the symptoms of the French king’s illness. He recognised them as an illness that affected him periodically. He would shake, his hair would fall out in clumps and his fingernails flaked away. It would always debilitate Richard for weeks, so he took advantage of Philip’s illness and pushed on faster to Marseilles. He wanted to be at sea days earlier than scheduled.

  This plan had its drawback, though, as Richard arrived at Marseilles earlier than his fleet, which was still at sea from England. He was impatient as usual and, instead of waiting for the fleet to arrive, he chartered galleons and set sail for Messina.

  Aubrette and Rowena were almost inseparable during the fifteen-day voyage. To Aubrette’s relief, Hugh travelled with King Richard. Simon had been instructed to travel with the women, so as to keep them safe and under his protection. At first, it was a post he abhorred, as he was a soldier and should be close to his king. However, he quickly became distracted by his rekindled desire for Aubrette.

  During a heavy squall, Rowena went to the cabin she shared with several of the other women. The rolling and pitching of the galleon through the sea made her feel unwell and she wanted to rest until her mal de mer had passed.

  Simon managed to find an excuse to slip away from his duties and found Aubrette wandering around the deck, linking arms with other ladies. They were enjoying this wild weather, and being soaked by the rain and spume, having their loose hair whipped about and across their faces. She felt a tingling run the length of her spine as he approached them. Gracefully, Simon bowed to the ladies.