The Heart of the Lion - Plaidy Jean - Страница 36
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Richard was amused and suddenly pictured himself telling the story of Isaac Comnenus to Philip of France.
No word from Richard. Where could he be? Why did he not send a message to them? Surely he knew how anxious they had been.
Joanna tried to soothe Berengaria. He was engaged on a dangerous enterprise, she explained. It would need all his skill to subdue Cyprus. He knew they were safe and they must not expect him to be sending messages to them describing every twist and turn of the battle.
They sat together in the gardens of the house where he had lodged them.
‘Here we are,’ said Joanna, ‘in this comfortable house. We can enjoy these lovely gardens. We should consider ourselves fortunate that he is so concerned for our well-being.’
‘I know,’ said Berengaria, ‘but I think of him constantly. I wonder if he thinks of me.’
Joanna did not say that she believed that when Richard was engaged in battle, he thought of nothing but that battle. She had always guessed he would be a neglectful husband, but it was sad that Berengaria must discover this so soon.
How could this girl so newly a wife be satisfied with anything but the undivided attention of the husband she adored?
Joanna watched a green lizard dart across the grey stone wall and disappear within it. What peace there should be in this garden where there were bushes of brightly coloured flowers and the pomegranates grew in abundance among the ever present palms. So quiet it was and yet not far away there was bitter fighting. Isaac would not give in easily even though he must know that he could not stand out against Richard.
‘I heard a rumour last evening,’ said Berengaria.
‘What was this?’
‘That Isaac has a daughter who is the most beautiful girl on the Island. She is very young and she has been held as a hostage.’
‘It is inevitable that she should be.’
‘She will be . . . with Richard?’
Joanna looked astonished. Berengaria could not be jealous of Isaac’s daughter!
‘I doubt not that she will be well guarded.’
‘We have not heard from him for so long.’
‘Come, tell me what you have heard about Richard and Isaac’s daughter.’
‘That she enchants him. Joanna, can it be for this reason that we have heard nothing of him?’
Joanna laughed. ‘My dear sister, do you imagine Richard sporting with this girl while the enemy is at the door?’
‘There must be some lulls in the fighting.’
‘You have much to learn,’ Joanna smiled. ‘Listen to me, Berengaria. Isaac’s daughter may be the most enchanting creature in the world, but I’ll swear Richard would hardly be aware of this.’
‘Surely any man would be.’
‘Not Richard.’
‘You seek to comfort me.’
‘So that is what has been ailing you. You have been jealous. You have listened to malicious gossip. I’d be ready to swear that Richard is aware only of Isaac’s daughter as a hostage.’
‘I wish I could believe that. But we have not heard for so long.’
‘Berengaria, now that you are married to Richard you will have to understand that there may be long periods when you hear nothing from him and have no idea where he is. He is a soldier . . . the greatest living soldier . . . and he will always be engaged in some conflict. Now it is the conquest of Cyprus. Later it will be an even greater enterprise. You will need much patience and loving understanding. You must realise that.’
‘I do. I do. But we have not heard and there is this girl. She is with him. People are talking.’
‘People will always talk. Heed them not. Love Richard, and most of all never question him. He would not like that. He must be free. If you would lose his regard the quickest way to do so is to make yourself a burden to him. He has put you . . . indeed both of us . . . in a safe place. That was his great concern. Be grateful that he is so anxious for our welfare. It is the measure of his affection for us. I would be ready to wager a great deal that there is nothing in this gossip. I know Richard . . .’
She stopped and looked at Berengaria rather sadly. What if she told Berengaria the real reason? What if she said: Richard is not like some men who think that women are part of a conquest. Richard is not very interested in women.
No, she could not tell her that. All she could do was comfort her.
‘There is always gossip about royal people,’ she said. ‘We look at a man or a woman and people immediately decide to bed us. Remember this, Berengaria. Stop fretting. Richard is engaged in a bitter struggle. You will hear from him as soon as he is free to think of us.’
‘I had hoped he would be thinking of me constantly . . . as I am thinking of him.’
‘My dear sister, he has a mighty war to fight. You have but to sit here with your embroidery. You must see the difference.’
‘Oh, I do,’ cried Berengaria. ‘I’m afraid I am foolish.’
‘You are inexperienced of the ways of the world and of men,’ said Joanna.
‘How grateful I am that you are with me. You teach me so much.’
‘I have been a wife and a widow, remember. These experiences tell.’
And while they sat in the garden they heard the arrival of horsemen.
Berengaria started up, her eyes alight with excitement.
‘It is messages from Richard at last.’
They went out into the courtyard and there seated on a horse was a very young girl, a child merely. Her dark hair, thick and luxuriant, fell about her shoulders; her deep set eyes were dark, black-lashed and at that moment apprehensive.
On either side of her rode two knights and one of them had a message from Richard.
He wanted his wife and his sister to take this girl into their household. She was a Cypriot Princess, daughter of Isaac Comnenus. They were to treat her well for it was no fault of hers that her father had deceived the King.
Berengaria laughed with pleasure. The newcomer was an innocent child.
‘Let the Princess dismount,’ she cried.
Joanna said: ‘We will ourselves look after her and see that she is treated in accordance with her rank.’
The girl stood before them and they were both filled with compassion for this poor child whose home was now in the possession of a conqueror. They determined to look after her. Indeed that was what Richard had ordered, but they would give her that especial care to make her feel she had nothing to fear.
Together they took her into the house. A room should be prepared for her near theirs. She should be their companion. They would tell her about their homes and she should tell them about hers.
The girl seemed comforted.
As for Berengaria, one sight of this child, so young and helpless, had dispelled the jealousy which had tormented her since she had heard that the beautiful daughter of Isaac Comnenus was in Richard’s hands.
She asked her: ‘Did you see King Richard?’
‘But briefly. I was taken before him. My father was there and he held me in his arms and begged the King not to harm me. Then King Richard ordered that I be sent to you.’
Berengaria said gently: ‘Have no fear. We will look after you and see no harm befalls you.’
‘There is my father . . .’ said the little girl, her eyes filling with tears.
‘Try not to fret. He had defied the King but you are not to blame. I am glad that my husband has sent you to us.’
Indeed she was, for the coming of the child had made Berengaria realise how false were the rumours. Later that day, Joanna heard her singing softly to herself, and the song she sang was one which Richard himself had composed.
The fever was passing, but it had left Richard emaciated and he was careful not to mingle too freely with his men. The image of superhuman being must not be tarnished. Of course that he could be assailed by illness and emerge as strong as ever was in itself worthy of him, but he would wait until he was full of the old vitality before he would let his humbler followers see him.
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