The Heart of the Lion - Plaidy Jean - Страница 8

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As he was about to leave the castle a messenger arrived from Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury. He brought with him a letter for the Earl of Gloucester. When he read it the Earl grew pale.

‘The Archbishop forbids the marriage on the grounds of consanguinity,’ he said.

John burst into loud laughter. ‘He is a little late, is he not?’

‘My lord Prince, what can we do?’

‘Burn the letter. Forget it. What’s done is done. Your daughter is my wife. Who knows she may already be carrying a boy who could be heir to the throne. I’ll not have the Church interfering in my affairs. Baldwin forbade the marriage when my father lived. My father cared nothing for Baldwin, nor should we.’

The Earl said: ‘You are right, my lord. There is nothing we can do now.’

He rode away. Hadwisa had never known relief such as she felt when she saw his party disappear into the distance.

John arrived in London to find his mother and brother installed in Westminster Palace. There was great excitement in London at the prospect of the coronation; and there seemed little doubt that the new King was popular. By abolishing many of the harsh forest laws Eleanor had paved the way for the King; and with a new reign the people were ever ready to believe that it would be better than the last. Henry II had been a man who had brought much good to the country; many had heard of the state of affairs during the reign of weak Stephen when robbers had roamed the land abducting unwary travellers, holding them to ransom, robbing them and if they had little worldly goods torturing them for sport. Henry with his stern just laws had put a stop to that. But he had retained the cruel forest laws and that was what the people remembered rather than the good he had done.

Now here was a new King – a man who was by no means old and who looked like a god. His reputation as a warrior was well known; he was good to his mother who had acted as Regent until he came. He had a younger brother who was willing to serve him. It seemed to the people that everything was set fair. And now a coronation. Revelry in the streets, processions; and it was already whispered that this was going to be the finest spectacle that had ever delighted the eyes of the citizens of London. Naturally they were excited. Naturally they were all going out to cheer.

Richard greeted his brother warmly.

‘How went it?’ he asked. ‘Don’t tell me, I know. You are a husband. Baldwin is fulminating. He says it is a sin for you to live with Hadwisa of Gloucester.’

‘That adds a spice to what would otherwise be a somewhat dull matter,’ replied John.

‘Oh, ’twas so? Well, you have her lands and that is something to be pleased about. But what of Baldwin?’

‘I shall ignore him. Shall you, brother?’

‘It is not good for a king to be on ill terms with his archbishop.’

‘’Tis a by no means uncommon state of affairs. He is officiating at the coronation, I doubt not.’

‘He is,’ said Richard.

‘Will he denounce me from the altar think you?’

‘’Twould be most unseemly were he to do so at a coronation and would cost him his post.’

‘Then perchance he will leave me in peace for a while.’

‘Methinks you were pleased with your bride, John.’

‘Pleased with her lands,’ answered John.

‘Well, you will be a very rich man now.’

‘It is a comfort to contemplate how rich.’

Eleanor embraced her youngest son and asked how the wedding had pleased him.

She commiserated. ‘Alas, it is sometimes the richest heiresses who are the least desirable. It’s a rare thing to find a woman who is both.’

‘You were I believe, Mother.’

She laughed. ‘I have been loved for myself and for Aquitaine. I have never been quite sure which was the more attractive. Well now, John is safely married . . .’

‘I am not so sure,’ said Richard. ‘Baldwin is raising objections.’

‘The old fool!’ retorted Eleanor. ‘In any case it’s too late. Why do you smile, John?’

‘I was thinking that the old fellow could give me a chance of not seeing my wife if I didn’t want to.’ He put his hand on his heart and raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Oh, I suffer sorely. My soul is in torment. I wish to be with my wife but in doing so do I sin against Heaven. She is my third cousin and that is very close. Her great-grandmother was my great-grandfather’s whore and we share his blood . . . though mine is pure and hers is tainted. If’twere not for her nice fat lands I would willingly annul the marriage . . .’

‘Be silent, John,’ said Eleanor sharply. She could see that Richard did not like his brother’s raillery on such a subject.

‘I am concerned,’ said Richard, ‘as to the Jews. I do not want them practising their magical arts at the coronation. That could bring disaster to us all. I shall forbid them to attend the ceremony.’

‘It would never do for them to be seen there,’ commented the Queen. ‘The people would think you are going to show leniency towards them and that would not be popular.’

‘They are too rich,’ said John. ‘That is what’s wrong with them.’

‘They are industrious and know how to prosper,’ declared the Queen. ‘Such qualities arouse envy, and being envious of their wealth those who have been less industrious or lack the money-spinning gift seek to lay faults at their door. My son, you must issue a command that there be no Jews at your coronation.’

‘It shall be done,’ said Richard.

The morning of that third day of September of the year 1189 dawned bright and sunny. Yet there were many who remembered that it was a day of ill omen. Egyptian astrologers had named it as one of the Dies Aegyptiaci with the implication that on it only the reckless would undertake any important business; and what could be more important to a king than his coronation?

Scarlet cloth had been laid from the King’s bedchamber in the palace to the altar of the abbey and crowds had gathered in the streets for the last day and night to make sure of getting a view of the spectacle.

In his bedchamber surrounded by the chief nobles of the realm, including his brother John, the King waited the coming of the Archbishops, the Bishops, the Abbots and heads of the monastic orders. They came bearing censers and vessels containing holy water led by one of their number carrying the great cross.

First in the processions from the bedchamber to the altar came the clergy, chanting as they walked, swinging incense and holding high lighted tapers; the priors and abbots followed and after them the barons. William Mareschal carried the sceptre surmounted by the golden cross and William Earl of Salisbury the golden rod.

Immediately behind them was Prince John, his eyes lowered, imagining himself not walking as he did but in the place of honour today occupied by his brother. How unfair was life, he thought, to make a man the youngest of his family! Yet in some ways fate had been kind in carrying off the others. That left Richard ten years his senior but still young. In the prime of his manhood some said. By God’s Eyes, thought John, he could live another twenty years! But if he went to the Holy Land a Saracen arrow might pierce his heart. It was the only hope.

He must be encouraged to go on his crusade. He was not fit to be King. How could a man newly come to a throne, plot how soon he could leave it? Only if he were a fool, for if that man had an ambitious brother he could soon place his kingdom in jeopardy!

To the spectators who thronged about the abbey and crowded inside, it seemed that there could never have been a more handsome sovereign than King Richard. William Mandeville, the Earl of Albemarle, walked before him carrying, on a cushion, the golden crown beautifully ornamented with glittering jewels. Then came Richard himself, tall and stately, under the royal canopy which was poised on lances and held over his head by four barons.

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