A Sister's Crusade

by Ann Turner

  Philip, meanwhile, had been aware of the situation between his sister, Alice, Richard and old King Henry. He knew Richard would not marry Alice while his father lived and she had been his father’s concubine. Now as king, he had used the betrothal many times as an excuse not to wed Berengaria. Philip was also aware of Richard’s feelings for women in general. The delay in the marriage had caused many arguments in the past between the kings, but finally, knowing the wedding was not to be, he agreed to release Richard from his betrothal to Alice. Philip now enjoyed watching the English king’s consternation as he tried to find another reason not to marry Berengaria.

  ‘I cannot marry the princess just yet,’ Richard announced to his stunned mother, as they sat together in private. ‘How can I during the Lenten period? We must wait until after and then I will marry Berengaria.’

  ‘Richard! This evasion of your responsibility is unacceptable. We shall get permission from the Pope. He will understand and grant a special dispensation. You cannot delay. I shall see you wedded and bedded to her, and I will want to know she carries your child before you reach the Holy Land,’ said Eleanor. Yet again, her son was stalling and making any excuse to avoid committing himself in marriage to the princess. ‘What will happen to England and your territories in France if you are killed and leave no heir?’

  Richard was adamant; he would not marry during Lent. ‘Arthur is my heir, Mother, and you know my mind is set. I cannot and will not marry the princess. You will have your grandson sired by me eventually, but not yet.’ His infamous anger was rising.

  ‘She shall not be young forever. Her childbearing years will quickly vanish and she will be of no use to man or beast.’

  ‘I shall not marry Berengaria! Enough said!’ Richard shouted, standing up and stalking furiously from the room to find Hugh.

  His mother watched after him, shaking her head in disappointment at her most beautiful and most stubborn son.

  In her apartments in Mattegriffon, Berengaria was sad. ‘Why does he put our wedding off so often?’ she asked Rowena and Aubrette, while looking in a mirror and touching the smooth skin on her cheeks. ‘Am I that hideous that he cannot bear to touch me?’

  ‘My lady, stop your worrying. The king is very fond of you; can you not see it when he is in your presence?’ said Rowena, attempting to lighten the princess’s melancholic state of mind.

  ‘He just wants to see that everything is done correctly,’ added Aubrette.

  Berengaria’s eyes were sad and there were tears shimmering. ‘My father kept me unmarried because he knew Richard had seen me years ago and liked me. He thought he would come for me to make me his duchess. I should have been married by now and mother to many children.’

  ‘You will be his queen and a royal duchess soon, and the children you have will be beautiful,’ assured Aubrette.

  Berengaria’s mouth turned down. ‘As soon as I saw him standing on the jetty, and I saw the way he hugged his mother, I knew I loved him. He is everything a handsome prince should be. Rowena, you are so fortunate to be married to his half brother and to have sons. When Richard does finally marry me and takes me to England, you must fetch your sons to court and they shall be companions to the sons that Richard and I will have.’

  As the three women talked, Simon entered the room to escort the princess to the hall. They all turned to look lovingly at him, confusing him by their attention. He quickly regained his composure.

  ‘My lady, allow me to accompany you to the hall for dinner,’ he said, offering his arm.

  Berengaria stood up and, with Rowena and Aubrette following behind, entered the hall, where her small retinue waited for her.

  Outside the doors to the hall, Aubrette was dismayed to see her husband, Hugh, waiting for her. He bowed stiffly to her and she inclined her head in return.

  ‘Madam, by the king’s command, I am here to keep you amused for the night,’ he said, blandly.

  Not noticing the hostility between the couple, the princess smiled benevolently at them and said, ‘How wonderful to see you, Sir Hugh. Your wife never complains about your absence. I know she rarely speaks of you, but I am sure she misses your company. You are a fortunate man to have her.’

  ‘My lady, I love the king and for this, my wife is gladly patient with me,’ Hugh replied and Berengaria glowed with pleasure, not understanding or realising the meaning behind his words.

  Aubrette cast a pleading look towards Simon, which went unnoticed by Rowena. He gave a small, useless shrug of his shoulders and she had no option but to take Hugh’s arm and be led silently into the hall.

  Later that night, as with every other time, Hugh bedded his wife quickly before tossing himself aside. He did not reveal to her that Richard was asking why there was no sign of a child from their union. Reluctant as he was to father children, Hugh wanted to please his king – if that meant impregnating Aubrette, then he would do it. Once the child was born, the onerous task would be complete and he would have as little to do with his wife and child as possible.

  32

  The crusaders finally prepared to depart Sicily. King Philip and his soldiers had already left the port of Messina and were now heading for Acre. Richard, annoyed at being behind, was due to follow soon after.

  Queen Eleanor had left Sicily reluctantly and was heading to England to rule in her son’s absence. Letters had been dispatched for William Marshal and Rannulf de Glanville before Eleanor’s departure, informing them of her arrival and sending instructions ahead. Her farewell to Berengaria was formal and polite, as was expected from a dowager queen to a future queen.

  Her goodbyes to her two children, however, were more emotional and loving. She hugged her daughter warmly and embraced her son with affection. Berengaria watched as Richard and Joanna knelt before Eleanor one final time for her blessing, their heads bowed in deference as she laid her hands on each of them, and they stood up. Both were taller than their mother and both shared her elegance, and the princess imagined that her own sons and daughters might look similar to this brother and sister one day. In her mind, she had already decided on names for her first son and first daughter: Richard, who she would affectionally call Dickon, and Eleanor. Dreams for now, but she hoped that in the future, they would become a reality.

  Joanna was to be Berengaria’s companion during the voyage to the Holy Land, to take her under her wing and prepare her for queenship. The king had announced that he, Simon, Hugh and other high lords would accompany him on the lead galleon, while the women were to sail separately – to the dismay of Berengaria, who had never been at sea for such a long journey before and wanted the comfort of her betrothed close by. She assumed this was just another reason for him not to be near her, even though Joanna, Aubrette and Rowena attempted to lift her spirits by assuring her that he was thinking of her safety. What would happen, for example, if pirates attacked Richard’s ship? He would surely be killed and then what would happen to her? She would be safer on the other galleon. Once they reached Acre, Richard would take the city back for the Christians with Philip, and Richard and Berengaria would be wed to seal the victory.

  During the voyage from Sicily to the Holy Lands, a mighty storm blew up, scattering the fleet. Many of the ships found safety in Crete and Rhodes. The ship carrying the women was blown off course and they took shelter at Limassol on Cyprus. The captain instructed the women to remain on board, refusing Isaac of Cyprus’s generous offer of accommodation in his castle while they waited for Richard and the fleet to come for them. Joanna, standing beside the captain at the prow of the ship, commented that she did not like or trust Isaac. She feared that if they accepted his offer, he would hold them all as hostages. At first, Isaac assured everyone on board that his intentions were honourable, and he would never attempt to harm King Richard’s sister or his affianced bride. It was their comfort that was his primary concern.

  Princess Berengaria express
ed a desire to leave the galleon with her women, desiring the freedom to wander around the gardens of the castle rather than the tedious daily patrol of the deck. In the evening, the breeze would carry over the fragrance of flowers and this enticed the women further – so much so that even Aubrette and Rowena began to think Isaac would not harm them.

  However, Joanna was shrewd. While she had been married to William of Sicily, he had frequently demanded a ransom from the passengers and crew of any galleon that docked up during a storm before allowing the ships to depart. The dowager queen was right to be cautious of this man. Having tried and failed to lure Joanna, Berengaria and the other women, Isaac began to threaten them with the consequences of refusing his offer of friendship. They would all be very sorry for the snub they had paid him.

  As the provisions on board began to deplete, one of the sailors shouted out that a fleet of ships was coming into view and was sailing towards them. To everyone’s immense joy, they were Richard’s ships, and the English King could be seen standing on the prow of the lead galleon. He shouted through a large horn that all was now well and that the brave knights had come to rescue their women in true chivalric style.

  Berengaria fell freshly in love with her future husband, as she watched him standing on the deck with the sea breezes blowing his golden red hair. He would vanquish the enemy, then come for her and sweep her into his strong arms. He would carry her off to the nearest chapel, marry her and take her to a sun-dappled glade, where he would make magnificent love to her.

  Isaac and his army were ready for the invasion, having also seen the fleet’s arrival. Richard and his men leaped into smaller boats and came onto the shore, swords drawn, equally ready for battle. There, the two armies clashed. Isaac’s men were no match for the soldiers and archers, all who were spoiling for a fight, and the slaughter was bloody. The survivors, including Isaac himself, retreated rapidly and set up camp further around the island.

  Triumphant, Richard boarded the galleon. Berengaria wanted to run at him and hug him tightly for saving her, but she had been taught protocol by Eleanor on their voyage to Sicily. So, she stood quiet and still as the king approached the ladies. They curtsied deeply to him. He bade them to stand, and then Richard dropped to one knee in front of Berengaria and Joanna, asking for their blessing. This was the first time Berengaria had the privilege of blessing the man who was to be her husband. Tentatively, she laid her hand on his golden head. His hair felt soft to the touch and she could not resist the urge to curl a lock of his hair between her fingers. Simon now stepped forward to greet his wife, pay his respects to the princess, and silently let his eyes flick to Aubrette. Hugh, who had been hanging back, reluctantly greeted his wife. Aubrette allowed herself to be kissed on both cheeks by her husband, amused that this absurd pretence continued.

  ‘Our work here is not yet done,’ explained Richard. ‘Isaac is a fool to think he and his rabble can outsmart my brave soldiers. We shall strike again, then talk peace terms.’

  Aubrette and Hugh disembarked arm in arm behind the king and the princess, followed by Simon and Rowena to take up residence in the local castle. Their pretence carrying on for all to see.

  That night, Aubrette noticed how attentive Rowena and Simon were towards each other. It seemed that the risk of danger to his wife had pricked Simon’s conscience and she felt a pang of jealousy. She wanted to be the one that Simon would be making love to that evening; she wanted to feel his warm body close to hers.

  Princess Berengaria was sitting on the right of Richard at the high table and Aubrette saw how happy she was to be so close to the man destined to be her husband. On his left sat Joanna, who was locked in conversation with her brother. He ignored his betrothed; did Berengaria realise this? She appeared not to. So everyone was happy tonight, except for her and Hugh. The night they spent together seemed never-ending; they lay side by side in a cold emotionless bed and she was relieved when he slid out of the bed to find the king.

  The following day, many of the Cypriot noblemen arrived to pledge allegiance to Richard, knowing he and his crusaders were the superior force and that to hold out was folly. Richard made Guy de Lusignan the King of Cyprus, to hold the island in his name, as its strategic position in the Mediterranean Sea and its abundance of fresh fruit, vegetables and livestock made it an excellent location for the crusaders to rest and replenish their provisions.

  Isaac escaped again by sailing round the coast of Cyprus to Kantara, but this time, Richard did not pursue his enemy as he decided it was the right time for his marriage to Princess Berengaria. In truth, he had run out of excuses and knew he could not delay the marriage any longer. Once he had reached the Holy Land, he would be too involved in fighting the Saracens to marry, and the whisperings were beginning to ripple through his army again as to the reason why the marriage had not happened. It had been observed that though his companion Hugh Fulbert was a married man, he still spent much time in the company of the king.

  On the wedding day, the women spent the morning in a flutter of excitement. There was hardly any time to prepare the bride for this important day, yet prepare her they did.

  Richard, meanwhile, stood in his chamber, silent and thoughtful, with his arms outstretched as pages dressed him in the finest clothes. His tunic was white, edged in gold and decorated with gemstones; his hose white and his shoes were the finest leather. His broad leather belt was handed to him and the king slowly pulled the leather through the jewelled buckle, tightened it and then strapped his sword belt around his waist. His coronet was then brought to him on a cushion and taking it, he placed it on his head. There were just a few hours left before he became a husband and would be expected to perform the duty of a husband on his eager bride. He could not imagine being true to one woman for the rest of his life; they had been amusements for him and they would remain so, even his wife. The only difference was that Berengaria would give him a child, which would be legitimate and recognised as his heir. He had no interest in the bastards he had fathered over the years; they were by-products of a moment’s pleasure.

  Hugh sprawled sulkily in a chair and watched his master being dressed. He seemed to be the only man in the whole of Cyprus who was not rejoicing over the English king’s wedding. There would now be less secret meetings late at night while everyone slept. He had wanted to refuse to attend the wedding, but Richard had commanded that all in his close circle should be there – so there Hugh was, resplendent in his finest clothes, pretending to be happy. Once the king had made his queen pregnant, Hugh was determined to get him back.

  King Richard looked at his reflection in the polished bronze mirror and was pleased with what he saw. He briefly wondered why he had waited this long to get married; he was feeling a rare sensation and assumed it was nerves for his wedding day, and the life he was to share with a wife. It was now time to get the formalities over. With words of encouragement from the men gathered around him, and bawdy predictions that his balls would be getting a good slapping, and his cock would be invading virgin territory that night in the matrimonial bed, he left his room and walked into the courtyard where his warhorse, Great William, was waiting for him. Richard would look most magnificent as he rode towards the Chapel of Saint George in Limassol and his waiting bride.

  In her own rooms, Berengaria was dressed in scarlet – the colour of royalty. Around her slim waist was a delicate gold chain with a small prayer book attached to the end, which was a gift from Joanna. Her headdress was of white silk and held in place by a jewel-studded diadem. Now that the wedding was imminent, and only an hour away, she was scared for her future life. Would she be a good wife to her handsome husband? Would she please him in bed and be fertile? That was, after all, her duty; she was expected to breed sons for her husband’s dynasty to continue and she said a silent prayer that she would fulfil her destiny.

  Joanna looked majestic. She always appeared to look amazing with no effort. She was naturally regal a
nd every inch a queen, which made Berengaria feel inadequate. Rowena and Aubrette, not having time to make new dresses for themselves, edged the sleeves and hems of old ones with brocade purchased from the local market. They still managed to look stunning, making poor Berengaria feel even more crippled in her lack of confidence. However, there was no time for doubt, as the horses were ready to carry them all to the chapel. She would emerge as a queen, a royal duchess and a countess. There was so much pressure on her petite shoulders, and she wondered whether she could carry such a heavy and onerous weight.

  Richard and Berengaria, on their different routes to the Chapel of Saint George, were cheered through the streets by well wishers, and brightly coloured flowers were tossed towards the princess for her white horse to tread upon. The pair arrived at the same time to enter the chapel together. Richard lifted his bride down from her horse and noticed that she was trembling.

  She looked through the open doors into the chapel – this first step into the chapel would be the biggest she would ever take, and she hesitated at its threshold. It was too late to back away now; she could not turn and run, and there was nowhere to go on the island where she could hide without detection. The king quietly asked if she felt well and was able to continue with the ceremony. Berengaria nodded; her destiny waiting for her. Richard gently squeezed her small hand reassuringly and led her into the chapel and towards the altar. He felt an affection stir deep inside his body for her. If this was the first trace of love, then it felt good. John, the Bishop of Evereux, was standing at the altar, waiting to perform the wedding ceremony and crown Berengaria as Queen of England.

  In the congregation, Rowena and Simon sat together, having revived their love for each other. Aubrette sat beside Hugh, who still sulked and refused to speak to his wife, or any other person, for the remainder of the day. This irritable behaviour did not go unnoticed and many sniggered behind their fists at his downfall in the king’s affections. Richard would now be too occupied with his pretty young queen to notice the pouting man in the shadows. His favour was waning and he would be forgotten, at the mercy of the many loyal supporters of King Richard.