by Jean Plaidy
‘Let be, let be!’ he cried. ‘Do you think I am incapable of settling this Frenchman? I will kill him ere I have finished with him.’
What had begun as play was becoming serious. French and English knights looked on in dismay. Richard was hot with rage, des Barres cool with the determination not to give way simply because he had offended the dignity of the King of England.
It was obvious that Richard was not going to succeed in overthrowing des Barres. His cane was broken and he threw it away from him.
‘Get from my sight,’ he shouted. ‘I never want to see you again. I see you are an enemy of mine and as such I shall regard you.’
Alarmed, des Barres went to Philip and told him what had happened.
‘I believe, my lord,’ he said, ‘that Richard has it in his heart to kill me.’
‘’Tis that hot temper,’ replied Philip. ‘His father had it. With him it was worse than with Richard. He would lie on the floor and gnaw the rushes and often came near to doing himself an injury when these rages were on him. I have seen the King of England possessed with this wild anger on one or two occasions. Though fortunately for him these spells of rage are less frequent than they were with his father. Leave this matter to me, I will speak with him. Have no fear; it will pass.’
When they were next together Philip mentioned the matter to Richard.
‘I hear you are angry with one of my knights.’
‘William des Barres insulted me.’
‘He meant it not. It was an accident. You sported with him and your garment was torn.’
‘He did it on purpose. It was my cappa that was torn. He was going for my face with the cane. He hoped to put out my eyes.’
‘So that was what you thought.’
‘Indeed it was so. I will show you the cappa. He was clearly aiming for my eyes.’
‘He is contrite.’
‘So well he may be. He will regret this.’
‘Richard, it was an accident and it happened in sport. Take it as such.’
‘Nothing will induce me to receive that man. He had better keep from my sight.’
‘You whipped up your anger against him. You know you do this now and then. It’s not good, Richard.’
‘Oh, and who are you to criticise me?’
‘Your sovereign lord, my lord Duke of Normandy.’
‘You are fond of reminding me of that.’
‘I find it necessary from time to time.’
‘One of these days . . .’
‘Yes, Richard, one of these days you will try to take France from me so that you do not have to acknowledge me as your sovereign lord.’
‘How could that be? Moreover I prefer to think of myself as the King of England.’
‘King of England, the King of France, who loves you, warns you to guard your temper. You inherited it from your father. He was a great King but he would have been a greater one without that temper. Forget this trouble with des Barres.’
‘I shall never forget it. Let the man keep out of my path.’
‘I will see that he does that until you are yourself again. We want no more trouble. Methinks we have been too long in this place. We should have left earlier and so should we but for your quarrel with Tancred.’
‘We shall start for Acre as soon as the spring comes.’
‘Do you plan to take Tancred with you?’
‘Tancred! What gives you such ideas?’
‘I thought you had become very friendly with him.’
‘We have made an agreement.’
‘To marry your nephew to his daughter. I thought your attitude towards him had undergone an abrupt change.’
‘He’s a reasonable enough fellow.’
‘When he knows himself beaten, yes.’
‘Philip, are you jealous of Tancred?’
‘Perhaps . . . a little.’
Richard laughed loudly. His good spirits were considerably restored and he seemed to have forgotten the ire which the des Barres incident had aroused in him.
Tancred was indeed determined to court Richard’s good will. His position was dangerous. King Henry of Germany, husband of Constancia, was naturally incensed at the truce between Tancred and Richard, and, as Henry was shortly to be crowned Emperor, he would be more powerful than he was before. Richard’s sister Joanna had supported Constancia’s claim and had been imprisoned for it. Her brother had understandably rescued her from that indignity but it had not been expected that Richard would call a truce with Tancred. Henry now regarded Richard as his enemy. Philip was aware of this and that was why he had shrewdly kept out of the quarrel. He knew that when one embarked on a crusade one needed all the friends one could muster. It could never be certain what an army might encounter on its journey, and it was foolish to make enemies.
Richard did not consider such matters. Tancred had paid him well and the quarrel with Henry of Germany was not his affair, but a matter between Tancred and Henry.
Tancred, however, fully aware of Richard’s prowess as all must be who had seen him in action, was eager to have him as his ally and because of this he invited Richard to pay a state visit to him at the Sicilian court which was now at Catania.
It was on the first day of March when Richard set out. He was certain that it would not be long before he would leave for Acre and was debating with himself what was to be done about Berengaria. When he approached the town Tancred rode out to meet him and he had arranged that everything should be done to make him aware of how welcome he was. Tancred embraced him, tears of emotion in his eyes, and they went side by side into the palace, where a lavish entertainment was carried out for his pleasure and the banquet was sumptuous. Richard was delighted.
The following day Tancred took him to the shrine of St Agatha for which Catania was noted and they both prayed for the success of the crusade. Tancred told Richard how at all times of the year pilgrims came to the shrine and there was very good evidence that their prayers were answered.
Richard’s visit lasted three days and on the last of these Tancred displayed rich treasure which he said he wished to present to him. There were gold and silver ornaments set with sparkling gems, but Richard said: ‘My friend, I cannot take these rich gifts from you.’ He selected a simple ring which he put on his finger. ‘This only will I take as a token of the love between us.’
All the company professed to be profoundly moved and Richard then said that he would give to Tancred one of his most prized possessions. This was the famous sword known as Caliburne, which was said to have belonged to King Arthur and to have magical qualities. Richard knew this was not the case. The sword was a fine one but the magic was lacking; if it had been he would not have been so foolish as to give it away when he was on an expedition to destroy the Saracens. But the legend attached to it gave it great value and Tancred kissed it and told Richard that he could not accept it unless he was allowed to give something to the King of England of more value than the ring he had chosen.
Richard could not help thinking that had Philip been present he would have laughed wryly to see the two Kings who had such a short time ago been wrangling over Joanna’s dowry now bestowing valuable gifts on each other.
The outcome was that Richard received from Tancred four large ships and fifteen galleys which would be of great value to him in his campaign.
When Richard prepared to leave Catania for Messina, Tancred said that he could not bear the meeting to be so brief and he was going to ride some of the way with Richard in order to have the extended pleasure of his company.
As they rode side by side Tancred urged Richard to ride ahead of the cavalcade with him for he had something very secret to say to him.
‘I shall tell you this in great confidence,’ he said. ‘It has caused me much heart searching but since we have sworn such friendship I feel I must speak to you of it.’
‘Please tell me what this is,’ begged Richard.
‘It concerns the King of France.’
‘In what way?’ demanded R
ichard.
‘I know that there exists great friendship between you, but how deep does that friendship go?’
‘What are you trying to tell me?’
‘To beware of the King of France.’
‘You are thinking that naturally we must be enemies. It is not so.’
‘I believe it to be so,’ said Tancred. ‘At least Philip is your enemy.’
‘That cannot be.’
‘I know that it is.’
‘Philip and I have been friends in the past. We have sworn to support each other during this crusade.’
‘You, who are of a direct and honest nature, cannot understand the devious ways of others. Philip seeks always his own advantage; he wants to see France supreme. Every French King since the Normans arrived in France has sought to drive them out and bring Normandy back to the French crown. Is that not so?’
‘It is indeed.’
‘Do you think Philip – one of the slyest of them all – is any exception?’
‘I know that he is determined to defend his country as any good king should be.’
‘And in doing so he will attempt to destroy all those who, he thinks, are its enemies. You, my lord King, are one of those.’
‘I understand your meaning. We are rivals and must be by nature of our position, but on this crusade we are as one. Our interests are the same; we have one motive: to drive the Infidel from the Holy Land.’
‘I can see there is only one way to convince you. Philip has tried to assure me that you are my enemy. He says that you will not keep the peace, that you are waiting for the moment when you can conveniently attack me and take the whole of Sicily.’
‘This is nonsense,’ cried Richard. ‘I am engaged on a crusade. I have no time for conquests on the way.’
‘This is what he has told me and he has assured me that if I will give the order for my troops to attack the English in the night, the French will come to our aid.’
‘This is perfidy.’
‘And you are my friend, that is why I warn you.’
‘I cannot believe this of Philip.’
‘He is clever and has managed to deceive you.’
‘He could not so far deceive me.’
‘Then I see you want proof. I can give you this. I have with me a letter which he has written to me. If you will read it you will see that I have not lied to you.’
‘Show me this letter.’
‘When we rest for the night I will have it brought to you.’
As soon as they came to the castle where they were staying for the night, Tancred produced the letter. Richard read and the blood rushed to his face. It appeared to be in Philip’s handwriting and it was as Tancred had said. A wild rage possessed him. He wanted to go to Philip and challenge him to combat. Philip would have little chance against him. He would kill Philip . . . if he had indeed written this letter.
If! What did he mean? That was Philip’s handwriting. He had seen it often enough. But how could Philip, who had been such a tender friend, write of him so?
His rage was halted. There was the unmistakable shadow of a doubt.
He must see Philip. He would know no rest until he did.
He took his leave of Tancred. ‘I am no traitor,’ he assured him. ‘The peace I have concluded I will not transgress. I confess to you it is not easy for me to believe this letter true, for the friendship between the King of France and myself has been of long standing.’
Tancred said: ‘I have shown you the evidence. I can do no more.’
Richard rode with all speed to Messina. He immediately sent one of his knights to the French camp asking for audience with Philip.
The messenger returned with the news that Philip had left for Catania there to join Richard and Tancred.
Richard bit his lips in frustration. So Philip was in Catania. They must have passed on the way. Either he was concerned because he feared what Tancred might have told Richard or it could have been that he was simply jealous of their relationship and wished to prevent its becoming too warm.
It was not long before Philip returned to Messina.
They faced each other. Richard was never one to prevaricate.
‘So,’ he began, ‘you would plot with Tancred against me.’
Philip looked bewildered. ‘What’s this?’ he asked.
‘It is useless to feign ignorance. I know what has been happening. I have evidence. You have incited Tancred to rise against me in the night when I am unprepared and have offered him your help.’
‘Where have you heard such nonsense?’
‘From Tancred himself.’
‘He has been lying.’
‘He has been telling what appears to be the truth.’
‘And you would take his word against mine? This new friend of yours is believed before those who have stood by you in the past and have proved their love and loyalty?’
‘I have been deceived.’
‘Yes, by Tancred.’
‘I would prefer it to be so.’
‘Yet this man only has to whisper a few calumnies . . .’
‘That is not all. He has shown me a letter. I have it. It is in your own hand. You have told him that if he rises against my army by stealth you will be behind him. The object being to destroy me.’
‘You can believe such nonsense! Why should I destroy my ally in this crusade? Why should I wish to go on to Acre without you?’
‘You want all the glory. Confess it. You want Normandy.’
‘If I defeated you here in Sicily would that give me Normandy?’
‘Who would defend it? My brother John. He has shown little prowess on the battlefield. My three-year-old heir Arthur? Nay, you are sly, you are devious. You scheme and dissemble.’
‘Show me this letter.’
‘I will. It offers irrefutable proof of your perfidy.’
Richard thrust the letter into Philip’s hands. The King of France studied it and his eyes opened wide with incredulity. Richard thought: If he is acting, he does it very well.
‘But this is monstrous. This is incredible. I . . . write such a letter! I never did. Richard, how can you believe for one instant that I could do such?’
‘I could believe it,’ said Richard. ‘When that letter was put into my hands surely I could believe the evidence of my eyes.’
‘I am deeply wounded that you could do so.’
‘Philip, is that not your handwriting?’
‘It is a fair enough copy to deceive even me. But I know I never wrote it.’
‘You would swear to it?’
‘On God’s holy word.’
Richard narrowed his eyes. He sometimes suspected Philip’s piety. He would never really know his friend. It might be that therein lay the fascination. He could never understand Philip and Philip understood him too well.
Philip was either suddenly angry or feigned to be so.
‘By God, Richard,’ he said, ‘you doubt me. Do you? Do you?’
‘It would seem to me that you wrote that letter.’
‘It is a forgery. You must see that.’
‘The handwriting is exact in every detail.’
‘I will admit that it is a good imitation. What hurts me is that you should doubt me.’
‘With such evidence?’
‘But I have told you it is false and you still doubt.’ Philip went to the window and looked out for a few seconds, then he swung round. ‘You are seeking to pick a quarrel with me, Richard, and you are using this letter. You know full well I am incapable of writing it. You attack me to cover your own fault.’
Richard knit his brows and stared at Philip.
‘Oh yes,’ went on Philip. ‘It’s Alice, is it not? My sister Alice to whom you are betrothed. You do not want to marry Alice. You have another Princess in mind. At this moment she is nearby waiting to be summoned. You have not told me this but I know it, of course. All know it. You do not say to me: “I intend to break my contract with your sister.” You pick a quarrel instead.’
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‘You know I could never marry your sister.’
‘Why not? You are betrothed to her.’
‘My father’s whore.’
‘Take care, Richard. You speak of your sovereign lord’s sister.’
‘I speak of her for what she is. I’ll not marry her.’
‘You will insult the House of France.’
‘I will not marry your sister, Philip.’
‘Well, let us say she provides a good excuse. You’ll not marry her and while you are betrothed to her you can marry no one else.’ Philip laughed aloud. ‘Poor Alice she served your father well. You too methinks.’
He saw the signs of Richard’s rising temper. He came to him and laid his hand on his shoulder.
‘Nay, Richard, I must help you out of this impasse. What hurts me is that you should think I would betray you. You should know that Tancred is not to be trusted. Let us not quarrel for that grieves me sorely and I fancy it does not make you happy. I will free you from your contract with Alice. Marry Berengaria. Get her with child and you and I will go off to Acre together.’
‘You mean you will truly free me from that contract?’
‘I will indeed. Alice shall come back to my court. Some nobleman will be glad to take my sister. And you will be free, Richard, to marry where you will. This Berengaria, is she very beautiful?’