Plantagenet 1 - The Plantagenet Prelude (31 page)

He was not sure how the King would feel towards a man who had taken his wife but perhaps since Louis himself was now married he would no longer bear resentment against him. In any case Louis was a king. Petty grievances must not stand in the way of State affairs.

Louis had daughters. Oh, yes, he had two by Eleanor, Marie and Alix, and of course there could be no alliance with them. But he also had a daughter by his second marriage and Henry saw no reason why this girl should not be affianced to his son Henry. At least there could be a betrothal. If he should decide when the children were older that he did not wish the marriage to go forward he would have no compunction in cancelling it. But an alliance now when they were more or less in their cradles - Henry was three, the girl one year - would be beneficial to both him and Louis. But would Louis see this?

Louis was a man whom he despised - a weakling. Eleanor had told him much about Louis, and if he had been as eager to keep Eleanor as she implied he had been, he must have been very foolish to let her go. Louis would see reason if the case was presented to him in the right manner.

It was difficult for Henry to go to him and put the proposition before him. The man who had displaced him with Eleanor was hardly the one to come along with the proposition. He would send an emissary. He knew the very man. His Chancellor. He respected that man as he respected no other in his kingdom. He trusted Leicester and Richard de Luci, but Becket he admired and had a real affection for. Becket he often thought of as a man of genius. For a delicate matter such as this might prove to be, he was the man.

He would send for Becket and while he was in France he, Henry, would slip down to Woodstock where he was having a bower built in a wood, a haven where he planned to install his fair Rosamund and where their child should be born.

Henry never wasted time. As soon as the idea had come to him he sent for Chancellor Thomas Becket.

Chapter VIII

THE RISE OF BECKET

I
t was not only the King who had a growing regard for Thomas Becket. The Primate Theobald had recognised a quality in the man from the moment he had come into his service.

Thomas’s origins were unusual. His father, Gilbert, had belonged to a family of merchants whose home had been in Rouen but after the Norman invasion, like so many of his kind, he had seen greater prospects in England and had come to settle in London.

During Gilbert’s childhood he had lived in the village of Thierceville and one of his childhood playmates had been a certain Theobald who had always talked of his desire to go into the Church. This he eventually did, by first entering a monastery, and later as he rose to become Archbishop of Canterbury the early friendship had some influence on the life of Gilbert’s son.

Gilbert prospered in the city of London and as he became one of its leading citizens he kept open house for visiting noblemen who were pleased to find a night or so’s shelter under his roof. There was no question of the house being an inn, but favour was given for favour, and the fact that rich and influential people were often entertained at his house meant that he was not the loser and reaped rewards for his hospitality, and with a son and two daughters Gilbert realised how beneficial this could be.

Gilbert himself was a romantic figure. Some years before the birth of his eldest child - his son Thomas - he had, like so many men of his times, decided to make a journey to the Holy Land and had set out with only one servant, a faithful man named Richard who had always served him well. After much tribulation and many hardships they reached their destination, had prayed at the tomb of Christ and feeling purged of their sins prepared to make their way back to England.

The homeward journey was to prove even more adventurous than the outward one and they had not gone very far when the party in which they travelled was surrounded by a company of Saracens, and Gilbert with Richard was taken prisoner.

It was unfortunate for him that he should have fallen into the hands of the Emir Amurath, who was said to be one of the cruellest men of his race. He enjoyed making Christians his slaves but when Gilbert and Richard were brought before him he was immediately struck by Gilbert’s appearance. There was a nobility about the man which was apparent to one even as alien as Amurath and he could not help feeling interested in him.

His first impulse was to heap additional humiliations on him but the manner in which Gilbert conducted himself defeated him. Amurath was a lover of beauty of any kind and because of Gilbert’s exceptional appearance he did not wish to maim it in any way. For a period he kept him chained in a dungeon and attempted to forget him. Gilbert’s dignity had its effect on his jailers and he became friendly with them, learning their language, and because of his determination he did this quickly.

One day the Emir was looking for amusement and suddenly remembered the Christian slave. He doubted he was as handsome and indifferent now as he had been on his arrival. He sent for him.

To his amazement Gilbert could speak his language and the Emir was impressed when he heard that he had learned it from his jailers. Gilbert hastened to explain that his jailers had done nothing but their duty but he had always been quick to pick up the language of those about him and this was what had happened.

The Emir, in spite of his cruelty, was a man of some culture, and did not care how Gilbert had learned to converse in his language. All he cared was that he could. He asked a good many questions as to what his life was like in London and he was interested too in the doctrines of the Christian faith.

So entertained had Amurath been that the next day he sent for Gilbert once more and questioned him at greater length about the manners and customs of the Western world.

Gilbert was delighted to be released from his prison for these conversational exercises which were becoming a habit, and as the Emir was fastidious in his tastes he ordered that Gilbert should bathe and be given fresh robes. This was done, and now it seemed that they met as equals. A friendship was springing up between them and the Emir decided that he would prefer Gilbert not to be taken back to his cell but to be given quarters in his palace.

Gilbert then began to live the life of a Saracen nobleman. He still however felt himself to be a prisoner and never far from his mind was the thought of escape. In his new position he came into contact with other Christians of his party who now worked as slaves in the palace. Many of them were chained about their ankles just long enough to enable them to walk but not enough length to allow them to go far. Others had halters about their necks. The one thought that was in their minds was escape. And Gilbert, in spite of his favoured position, never forgot them and was in constant communication with them in the hope of forming some plan for their release.

The fact that he was so favoured was beneficial to them all, for Gilbert could discover a great deal about the geography of the palace and the most likely means of exit should the opportunity arise.

Moreover the Emir now and then took Gilbert out with him and they would ride side by side, surrounded by a guard, and so Gilbert learned a good deal about the country.

His fellow Christians knew that he was too religious a man to desert them. His recent absolution at the tomb had cleansed him of all sin, and he would not want to incur another even if it were his nature to do so, which they were sure it was not. He joined his fellows often in prayer and the great theme of those prayers, as must be the case with all prisoners, was that Divine guidance would lead them to escape.

As the weeks passed the Emir’s interest in his captive did not wane. The more fluent Gilbert became the more profound were the discussions, and one day as reward for such lively entertainments the Emir invited Gilbert to dine at his table.

This was to have a momentous effect on Gilbert’s life because at the table were members of the Emir’s family and among them his young daughter.

The girl was very beautiful; above her yashmak her enormous eyes studied Gilbert. He was different from any man she had ever seen. His fair skin fascinated her; his proud Norman bearing impressed her deeply. She had never seen anyone like him. She curbed her excitement for she knew that it would never do for her father to see it. What would happen she could not imagine - except that it could be disastrous for her and for Gilbert. She listened to his voice which was different from others as was everything else about, him; and when the meal was over and the Christian and her father went away to sit and talk as the Emir loved to do, she retired to her apartments which she shared with the other women of the household and could think of nothing but the handsome Christian.

The Emir now made a habit of inviting Gilbert to his table and often his daughter was present. She was now in love with the strange captive, and she was certain that she would never know any happiness without him.

What could she do? She could not tell her father. She had lived the life of a girl of her people which meant that her life had been sheltered. Very soon a husband would be found for her and she would be given to him whether she liked it or not. She was a girl of great determination and she decided that she must learn more of this Christian faith for which these men of the Western world had left their comfortable homes and risked so much. She knew that Gilbert came from a place called London where he had a fine house. He had described it to her father in her presence. Yet he had left it to risk his life and perhaps face torture - for Gilbert had been singularly fortunate in falling into the hands of an enlightened man like Amurath - and all for the Christian faith.

Gilbert often went to pray in a small secluded chamber which the Emir had given him for that purpose; because he had become interested in the Christian religion through their discussions, he had no desire to put any impediment in the way of Gilbert’s continuing to worship as he did at home.

Thus Gilbert was allowed an hour’s seclusion where he might commune with God.

To his surprise when he entered one day he saw that the rich arras which hung from the wall moved slightly and from behind it emerged the Emir’s daughter.

Gilbert was amazed.

‘I did not know any was here,’ said Gilbert. ‘I will go at once.’

She shook her head. ‘Stay,’ she begged.

‘It would not be permitted,’ said Gilbert preparing to depart.

Then she answered: ‘I would learn more of the Christian faith.’

Gilbert looked at this beautiful girl and wanted to save her soul for Christianity.

‘What would you know of my faith?’ he asked.

‘I would know why your face shines when you speak of your God. I would know why you have no fear of my father, why you talk with him and disagree with him as any other of his servants would not dare.’

‘I trust in my God,’ he answered. ‘If it is His will He will protect me. If my time has come I shall go to eternal salvation. That is why I have no fear.’

‘Tell me of eternal salvation.’

He told her as it had been taught to him as a child.

‘Could I become a Christian?’ she asked.

‘You could by believing.’

‘I could believe,’ she said.

‘You will need instruction.’

‘You will instruct me?’

He looked round the apartment. ‘Your father would kill me if he found you here with me.’

‘But you are afraid.’

‘No, I am not afraid. Something tells me that it is God’s will that I shall save your soul for him.’

‘When you come to pray I shall be here,’ she said. ‘You will instruct me.’

‘Then so be it.’

They knelt together and he taught her to pray.

And that was a beginning.

Each day when he came to the chamber she was there; she was progressing with her study of his religion. He told her that she must have a Christian name and she was delighted. He called her Mahault, a version of Matilda.

‘That was the name of the wife of the greatest Norman who conquered England and brought a prosperity to both that land and to the Normans like myself who now inhabit it,’ he told her.

She was delighted with her new name. She lived for her meetings with Gilbert. She was a fervent Christian. She took wholeheartedly to the doctrine of loving one’s neighbour. Love was better than war. She could see that. People suffered continually for war and as a woman whose great joy in life would be her husband and children, how could she wish to lose them or see them suffer in that senseless preoccupation.

Indeed she was a fervent Christian.

Often Gilbert wondered what his fate would be if the Emir discovered that he had made his daughter into a Christian.

She would ply him with questions. ‘Christ died on the cross for you, would you die on the cross for him?’

He answered clearly: ‘I am ready to die for God.’

‘It is true,’ she said wonderingly, ‘for if my father knew that we had been together thus, he might devise a horrible death for you which is even more terrible than the crucifixion. Yet you have instructed me. You have made a Christian of me.’

‘I have brought you to the light, Mahault,’ he answered. ‘And if God wills that the fate which befell His only begotten Son should overtake me, then I trust I shall meet it with fortitude.’

In worshipping Gilbert’s God the Emir’s daughter had come to worship Gilbert also.

She said one day: ‘The Christian slaves plan to escape. I know it.’

‘You cannot understand their tongue,’ replied Gilbert.

‘No. But I see it in their eyes. They make their plans. They will attempt to go.’

‘Do you think they will succeed?’

‘If they do not, I tremble for them. Nevertheless they will attempt it.’ She was fearful suddenly. ‘Gilbert, what of you? If they should try, would you go with them?’

‘They are my people,’ he answered.

‘If you should go, I would wish to go with you,’ she said.

‘How could you do that, Mahault?’

‘If the slaves could escape, so could I.’

‘Nay. You are your father’s daughter. This is your home.’