The Battle of the Queens

by Jean Plaidy

  ‘They have different methods. Can you imagine Blanche and Louis like this?’

  ‘Never.’

  She laughed. ‘My beautiful Hugh,’ she said, ‘you don’t know how often I thought of you when I was with that odious John. And you love me, do you not? You would do anything to please me. What should I make you do, Hugh? Go to the royal chamber and take a cushion and hold it down over that haughty face until, it is still and cold …’

  ‘Isabella, what are you saying!’

  ‘Nothing of importance. How could you do that? And to what purpose? But they must do what we want, Hugh. They are afraid of us.’

  ‘I think not, my love. Louis is the King, Blanche the Queen. You have seen the army they have encamped around.’

  ‘But why do they come here thus, if they are not here to placate you? Why should they come here … first to you. Louis is recently King and he says, “I must go and speak with Hugh de Lusignan.” They are afraid of us, Hugh. We must keep them afraid.’

  ‘Nay, I am but Louis’s vassal.’

  ‘Vassal! Say not that word to me. I hate it. I will not be married to a vassal. Listen to me, Hugh. We may have to pretend to pay homage. You may … I never will. But my son is the King of England. Do you not see what that means? We are in a powerful position. Henry will not desert his mother. He is a good and docile boy … and so young. Louis is afraid of you. No, Hugh, you and I will put our heads together and use them both. Do you understand?’

  ‘My dear, there could be war …’

  ‘Well, there will be war and if there is war Louis will be more than ever afraid of the Lusignans. Henry will want us to be on his side too. You see how well you did for yourself when you married the Queen of England. Hugh, will you leave this to me?’ He did not answer and she pouted. ‘I should be a little angry … even with you, Hugh, if you did not.’

  He smiled at her and put his lips against her hair.

  ‘You looked beautiful tonight, Isabella.’

  ‘Do I not always?’

  ‘Always, but tonight there was something wild about you … something …’

  ‘Irresistible?’ she asked.

  ‘Always that.’

  ‘Except to two men … Louis and the Count of Champagne.’

  ‘Louis has little time for any woman but his wife.’

  ‘The virtuous husband! Are you faithful always to me?’

  ‘Always, but for far different reasons than Louis is to his wife.’

  ‘What reasons?’

  ‘After you none would do for me. Louis feels no strong impulses.’

  Isabella laughed aloud.

  ‘And Champagne?’

  ‘He is fixed on the Queen. Poor fellow, it will do him no good.’

  ‘She is an icicle, that woman.’ Isabella sighed and opened her arms. ‘Very different from your Isabella.’

  The Queen paced up and down the apartment which had been prepared for her and Louis.

  ‘I don’t trust that woman,’ said Blanche. ‘I don’t trust Hugh de Lusignan either … now that he is married to her.’

  Louis said: ‘You have allowed her to upset you. The question you asked …’

  ‘I meant mine for her. I hope she remembered how inhumanly she treated that poor daughter of hers. I have heard that the child loved Hugh, who would be good and kind I am sure, were it not for that woman who seems to have bewitched him.’

  ‘It was strange that you should have picked her out after she had picked you.’

  Blanche looked at him with fond exasperation. Louis was a very innocent man.

  ‘We must be watchful of them, of course,’ Louis went on. ‘They are going to ask for concessions. We must be very wary of granting them.’

  ‘The Lusignans have always been a family to reckon with. Don’t forget that Hugh is the head of a house which reigns over a large part of France from the valleys of the Creuse and the Vienne in the east to Lusignan in the west. They hold many castles in Poitou. They could be a danger …’

  ‘Either to us or to Henry should he decide to come over and try to regain that which his father lost. And Isabella is his mother.’

  ‘That woman would have no feeling for her son,’ said Blanche firmly. ‘I fancy she would use him – as she did her daughter – to suit her own ends.’

  ‘I am not sure. She is clearly in love with Hugh and he undoubtedly with her. It may have been that their emotions overruled their sense of duty.’

  ‘As expediency would do as easily as love,’ replied Blanche cynically. ‘So we must take care.’

  ‘Never fear, we shall. They are claiming Saintes and Oleron which Isabella declares were promised as her dower lands.’

  ‘And you will grant them possession of these, Louis?’

  ‘We cannot afford to have the Lusignans against us. Don’t forget, Hugh commands a large army. If he were with us, if he were our ally, we could leave the south in his hands and return to the north where we may well be needed.’

  Blanche saw the wisdom of this. ‘If Hugh had not married that woman, I would trust him.’

  ‘He has ever been a man of honour.’

  ‘Now he is married to Isabella you will see a change in him.’

  ‘Nay, Blanche. You are obsessed by the woman. She is a very fascinating creature and it is clear that Hugh is bewitched by her, but he is a soldier and a man of honour, and nothing can change that.’

  ‘Isabella could change it.’

  ‘You attribute too much power to her.’

  ‘You say I am obsessed by her. She is obsessed by power. And if Henry of England should come against us … and she his mother …’

  ‘Henry is a boy yet. We must be prepared for action, yes. That is why we are here in Lusignan. If I can be sure of Hugh I can feel reasonably confident.’

  ‘To be sure of Hugh, yes …’

  ‘He is a man I trust.’

  Blanche sighed wearily. What was the use of trying to explain to Louis? When he looked at Isabella he only saw the most fascinating of women. He did not see the calculating schemer who would stop at nothing to get what she wanted.

  They left during the next day. Louis had promised Hugh possession of Saintes and Oleron, and had discussed plans with Hugh for the capture of Gascony and the whole of Poitou and promised Hugh the town of Bordeaux when it was in their hands.

  Hugh and Isabella watched the royal cavalcade depart. Hugh would make ready for war to carry out his part of the bargain. He was gratified that the King had realised the wisdom of strengthening their friendship. Louis was pleased too. He was sure it was a move of which his father would have approved.

  Only Blanche was uneasy as they rode away.

  ENGLAND 1223–1226

  Chapter VIII

  ROYAL BROTHERS AND SISTERS

  It was rare that Henry and his brother and sisters were gathered together and this seemed to him a very special occasion. Richard, who was not quite two years younger than he was, had come to court from Corfe Castle where he was being brought up under the stern tutelage of Peter de Mauley, for Hubert de Burgh had said: ‘It is getting near the time when something must be done about your brother.’ Richard was at that time fourteen years of age. ‘For,’ went on Hubert, ‘if something is not done for princes they have a way of attempting to do something for themselves.’

  Henry, who hung on Hubert’s words, agreed immediately that they must send for Richard and he duly arrived at court, where the two brothers confronted each other with a certain admiration and suspicion. Henry had acquired a regality since he had ascended the throne; as for Richard he had always been aware that he had been named after his uncle Coeur de Lion and as he had often been reminded of this he had developed a determination to be like that warlike hero. He naturally thought it was a pity that fate had been so unkind as to make him the second-born instead of the first, but the second son of a king was of great importance, so he was looking forward now to dispensing with the tiresomeness of childhood and coming out into the world to make
his name.

  Hubert had said to Henry: ‘In a year or so when your brother is sixteen, it will be necessary to knight him, and present him with land and titles. It is important for there to be complete amity between you. A good brother can be of inestimable value; a bad one, the greatest menace a king can know.’

  Henry was remembering this as he received Richard and it was easier than he had believed, for Richard was delighted to be at court. The brothers had seen each other only once since the death of their father and that had been at the time of Henry’s coronation three years before. A boy grows up a great deal in three years and this was particularly so in the case of Henry.

  They rode together and talked of the old days which Richard could not remember well, but Henry reminded him of how their mother had hastened him to be crowned with her throat-collar because there was no crown. That was why it had all to be done again in the proper manner four years later.

  ‘How strange,’ said Richard, ‘that our mother should have taken Joan to Lusignan and then married the man Joan was betrothed to.’

  ‘We don’t like it,’ said Henry importantly. ‘You see, Hubert and many of them think that if the King of France persuades Hugh de Lusignan to fight for him, our mother will be with her husband, not with us.’

  ‘Does Lusignan matter so much? He is only a count. We can fight him.’

  ‘He owns a great deal of land and is the overlord of many. Our father, you remember, thought it wise to marry Joan to him to secure his allegiance.’

  ‘Well, if we have secured it through our mother, what difference? Poor Joan. So she lost her husband.’

  ‘I found another for her, so what matters it?’ said Henry.

  Richard looked at his brother with amusement. He found a husband for her. I’ll wager, thought Richard, he was told whom Joan should marry.

  ‘How likes Joan her new husband?’

  ‘You may ask her.’

  ‘She is coming here?’

  ‘She is on her way with her husband from Scotland, so you may ask her yourself. She must be content, for she has brought about an alliance between us and the Scots. And as Hubert married Alexander’s sister Margaret, we have very good relations with that country.’

  ‘It is said that Hubert de Burgh knows how to feather his own nest.’

  ‘Who says that?’ demanded Henry fiercely.

  ‘Oh, I have heard it said. And you must admit that marriage with the sister of the King of Scotland is somewhat higher than a … commoner should look.’

  ‘Pray do not speak of Hubert in that way. He is a great man. There is no one of more importance to me in the whole of my kingdom.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Richard, ‘that is what I have heard. The King is in leading strings to his Justiciar.’

  Henry flushed scarlet. ‘Have done,’ he shouted. ‘I’ll not have such accusations made in my hearing.’

  Oh, thought Richard, very much the King! He should have been the first-born. It was obvious.

  ‘If I were King,’ he said, ‘I would rather such things were said within my hearing than outside it.’

  Henry hesitated. There was wisdom in that. It was galling, though, that his younger brother should have to point it out to him.

  He changed the subject. ‘I have decided,’ he said, ‘that it would be good for you to make a pilgrimage. You have recently been in bad health and need perhaps a little humility and forgiveness of your sins.’

  ‘My ill health was due to the cold of Corfe … not to my sins.’

  ‘Are you so virtuous then, brother? This is what I wish to tell you. Alexander, your brother-in-law, is going to Canterbury to pray at the shrine of St Thomas, and I think it would be an excellent plan if you accompanied him.’

  You think, was Richard’s inward comment. You mean Hubert de Burgh thinks.

  But the idea was not displeasing to him.

  He had spent too long away from affairs and it would be interesting to meet his brother-in-law.

  It seemed strange to Joan to be back in the schoolroom in the Palace of Westminster. Two years had passed since her marriage with Alexander. She had then been eleven years old – a child in years but her stay at the castle of Lusignan had brought her abruptly out of childhood and had taught her the emotions of an adult.

  She felt very experienced compared with her sisters: Isabella who was now nearly ten years old and Eleanor who was nine.

  They had greeted her warily. Poor little girls, thought worldly-wise Joan. What did they know of life?

  She had a husband of two years standing. Alexander. He was not unkind and he had made her a queen. He was twelve years older than she was, an experienced warrior at the time of their marriage; he had frightened her a little at first, with his rather sharp features and the tawny tinge in his eyes and hair. But she was beautiful, she knew; and seemed to grow more so when her mother was far away. Everyone commented on her charm and that pleased Alexander. He was glad too of the alliance with England which she represented.

  When he found that she was intelligent he talked to her a little about state matters. He was a man who while he excelled in battle was yet a lover of peace, and he told her he wanted a prosperous Scotland and no country was prosperous in war, and though he would defend his boundaries with his life he preferred to make them safe through marriages such as theirs than through battle.

  She could agree with him on this and as she had learned meekness at Lusignan she accepted her lot.

  He was not Hugh, of course; and she supposed she would go on thinking of Hugh all her life. He would always live on, as an ideal of what one had failed to achieve sometimes did.

  She did not want to think of her mother with Hugh. She had now become aware of what such a relationship meant, for she would be expected soon to provide Scotland with an heir. She was not too young for that; she had been sickened when she had heard that her mother had already given Hugh two children. She supposed in time she would get used to the idea. Often she pictured them together. Of course she had subconsciously known that there was something different about her mother when compared with other women. She would never forget the way in which Hugh’s eyes had followed her as she moved around and now that she knew the meaning of those smouldering looks which passed between them she understood a great deal. She would remain here while Alexander took the journey to Canterbury in the company of her brother Richard. She remembered Richard but vaguely. He had been more forceful than Henry, always trying to push himself forward and pretending that although he was the younger he was the more important.

  Her sisters Isabella and Eleanor wanted her to tell them about Scotland. They looked at her with awe – their elder sister who was widely travelled. First she had gone miles away to Lusignan and then she had come back and had a marriage. This made her a very important person.

  But Eleanor, the younger of her sisters, had a very special question to ask.

  ‘Tell us what it is like to be married,’ said Eleanor.

  Joan was embarrassed. ‘My dear sister, you will discover soon enough.’

  ‘Very soon,’ said Eleanor. ‘Did you know, Joan, that I am going to be married ?’

  ‘When?’ cried Joan. ‘You are far too young.’

  ‘It is true, is it not, Isabella?’

  Isabella nodded gravely. ‘I heard Margaret Biset talking about it.’

  ‘Margaret Biset had no right to talk before you,’ said Joan.

  Isabella was quick to defend her nurse-governess. ‘But she did not know she was talking before me for I was hidden where she did not think to look for me.’

  ‘Eavesdropping. Oh Isabella!’

  ‘It is to be forgiven,’ retorted Eleanor, ‘when plans are made for us and we are not told for a long time.’

  ‘And what did you hear?’ asked Joan.

  ‘That someone called William Marshal is claiming me,’ said Eleanor.

  ‘She means he is going to marry her,’ said Isabella.

  ‘Why, you are not nine years old yet!’<
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  ‘He had another child wife, Margaret said,’ put in Isabella. ‘She said he must have a fancy for them.’

  The two young girls giggled but Joan stopped them.

  ‘You are being foolish. Tell me all you know of this.’

  ‘It is just that William Marshal was promised Eleanor and is now claiming her. She will go away to him as you went to Lusignan. But you came back, did you not, Joan?’

  Joan nodded.

  ‘But not for long. Then you went to Scotland.’

  ‘Your Hugh married our mother instead. He wouldn’t have been able to do that if our father had been alive,’ said Eleanor.

  ‘Of course he wouldn’t, you foolish girl,’ put in Isabella. ‘Do you remember him?’

  Eleanor nodded. ‘He used to shout,’ she said, ‘and scream.’

  ‘Margaret said sometimes he fell on to the floor and chewed the rushes. It made him less angry doing that. I tried it when I was cross. But it didn’t make me less cross and the rushes were horrible.’

  ‘You chatter too much,’ said Joan severely, ‘and you must stop hiding yourselves so that you can hear what people say. It’s bad manners.’

  ‘It’s interesting,’ observed Isabella.

  ‘One day you might hear what you would rather not.’

  ‘I’d rather not have heard I have to go to William Marshal,’ admitted Eleanor fearfully.

  ‘Well if she has to go it’s best to know about it, is it not, Joan?’ asked Isabella.

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Joan.

  Then she turned to Eleanor and saw herself as she had been what seemed like an age ago when she had heard she was to go to Lusignan, Had she looked as young and defenceless as Eleanor now looked? And Lusignan …. how beautiful it now seemed looking back. How she hated the harsh Scottish winter when the snow came quickly and stayed. She thought of the lush pine forests and riding with Hugh. Her mother had taken all that away from her because she was in a way a witch and made spells so that she was the most beautiful woman in the world and all men – even those betrothed to others – wanted to marry her.