The Autumn Throne (12 page)

A fluffy terrier not much bigger than a rat began a high-pitched yapping at Alienor and Alais swiftly picked him up and held him to her breast. ‘We were taking Trynket for a walk,’ she said.

Alienor felt like an intruder even though hers was the greater right to be here. What else did she expect of the young? It was natural to find places like this to huddle and socialise. She made an impatient gesture. ‘You have my leave to go.’

They made their respects and departed in a haste of colour. The pretty dark girl still had her head down. Roger Bigod murmured something to her and she shook her head and quickened her pace. Harry looked after them, eyes narrow.

‘Do you want to join them?’

‘No, Mama.’ He gave her his glittering smile. ‘I would rather spend time with you.’

‘I am not so certain about that,’ she said, wryly. ‘Who was the young lady with Alais? I have not seen her before.’

Harry’s mouth twisted. ‘Ida de Tosney, Papa’s latest concubine. She’s Rosamund de Clifford’s second cousin.’

‘Yes,
he told me.’ Another girl of tender years; an heiress in Henry’s care. She could read the pattern so well in him. ‘Does he think to replace Rosamund with this one?’

‘She is a sweet girl. I receive the impression that far from scheming herself into Papa’s bed, she would rather it had not happened.’

‘Roger Bigod was paying her close attention.’ Alienor sat on the seat and surveyed the garden.

‘I expect when Papa tires of her, he will sell her marriage to an interested party,’ Harry said. ‘Bigod is making that interest known. Still, he should be careful. Treading the young hen while she’s still the rooster’s favourite is dangerous.’

Alienor looked at him. He had shown no inclination to take a mistress himself even though his wife was still in Paris and their relationship was one that functioned on duty not passion. If he had other women, at least, unlike his father, he was discreet about it.

‘They make him forget his age,’ Harry said. ‘That’s why he always has the fastest horses to stay ahead of everyone else.’

‘And they always kick him. He cannot bear to relinquish control to anyone. That is why he likes such women too. They do as he says – they are in his power and they do not struggle to escape.’ Unlike his ageing wife, who he had to keep under lock and key, build walls around and set spies upon. She gave an embittered smile. What it was to make a king afraid.

Later, during an informal gathering in the hall, Alienor took a moment to draw William Marshal aside and speak to him. ‘I am reminding you to take care of Harry,’ she said. ‘He is a grown man and would not thank me if he heard me speak thus to you, but tourneys are dangerous places, and I fear that living life dangerously has too much glamour for him just now.’

William’s easy smile gave way to a more serious expression. ‘Madam, I have sworn to guard my lord with my life.’

‘Then do not lose your focus, William. I hear many tales of your prowess and I see how men look at you in this room – and
women too. It would be easy to become carried away by adulation and by the abilities in arms you possess. I do not want you or my son to endanger your lives. You must be aware for both of you. Do not reply that it goes without saying, because it does not. It has to be said before it can be put to rest.’

William dipped his head. ‘I understand, madam, and I take it to heart. In serving my young lord, I serve you also, and I swear I will not let you down.’

Alienor gave a firm nod and was satisfied, knowing that William’s reply, while courtly, was sincerely meant. Many young men would have taken umbrage at her warning, but he had accepted it in the spirit with which it was meant, and was sufficiently secure in his own manhood not to feel challenged.

Alienor returned to Sarum after the Easter gathering and prepared to spend another summer on the wind-burned hill top. Harry escorted her there and stayed for three days. He took her hawking on the Downs, which was a rare and wonderful treat, before he rode away to rejoin the tourney life and left her to the confines of the palace.

The masons continued with their building: plans were afoot to construct another secure tower at the postern end of the complex. Alienor eyed the foundations of the embryo building and wondered at Henry’s desire to strengthen the security at Sarum, since she doubted he was ever going to stay here himself.

In August, Richard surprised her with a swift visit, arriving in a flurry of coloured silk banners that declared here was a presence to be reckoned with. Neglecting a formal greeting, she flew into his arms and embraced him with a cry that was half joy and half pain.

His arms were hard and strong as they enfolded her and she clung to him in the utter pleasure of reunion before pushing him away, greedy to take in the whole. ‘Let me look at you!’ She had not seen him for three years and the youth had been completely banished by a tall, beautiful man, his features strong
yet refined, his body lithe, with supple power in every movement. He had Henry’s thrust and energy, but tempered with grace because of his height and coordination.

He smiled at her. ‘Do I meet with your approval, Mama?’

‘How could you not?’ Laughing, crying, she hugged him again and then took his arm to lead him towards the keep. ‘But even putting aside my bias as your mother, I would challenge anyone to find fault.’

‘Even my father?’ he asked, lifting his brows.

‘Why, what has he done now?’

He shook his head. ‘I was jesting.’ His gaze followed the line of the new curtain wall with thoughtful interest.

‘He says it is to bring the defences up to a better standard than they were in the time of his grandsire, but it is oppressive. I know I am prisoner, but this serves to emphasise the detail. He is also building a secure tower apparently, but whether to house me or part of his treasure I know not.’

They entered the cool interior of the great hall and servants brought refreshment and attended to Richard’s entourage. Someone had already run to the top of the tower to fly his banner from the battlements. Richard removed his light travelling cloak and handed it to a squire.

‘So,’ Alienor said, as a servant set down a platter of honey cakes, ‘do you have news for me? I am starved for information here except for what I manage to pick up like a bird pecking crumbs from under the table. Your father isolates me as much as he can. How is Poitou?’

Richard bit into a honey cake, chewed and swallowed. ‘Still in rebellion, but learning that the harder they press, the more determined I am, and that my resources and tactics are better than theirs. For now there is calm. I do not suppose it will last, but many of the perpetrators have sworn to take up arms in Jerusalem instead.’

Alienor noted the gleam in his eyes with misgiving. Richard had been a warrior almost from the day he was born, from preference rather than necessity. For him the gauds of the
tourney were so much frippery when the true kernel of prowess was on the battlefield.

‘They said Taillebourg was impregnable, but it fell,’ he said. ‘I took it and I razed it, and Geoffrey de Rancon knelt to me in surrender.’

Alienor gave a pragmatic nod. Her bond with the de Rancon family had been close in the past; indeed her tie to Geoffrey’s father was part of the past she would never reveal to anyone. But time and a changing political landscape had frayed the cords and they were not as securely attached to a younger generation. There had always been unrest in Aquitaine, each lord striving to hold as much power as he could.

That Richard had taken and razed Taillebourg surprised her because it was reputedly impregnable. She had consummated her first marriage there when she was barely more than a child, her young husband fumbling in the dark and both of them frightened and excited. Perhaps it was a good thing that the place with all its whispers and memories had been torn down.

‘You have done well.’ It was indeed a great achievement for someone not yet twenty-two.

He shrugged but looked pleased. Finishing the honey cake, he took another. ‘I do not trust any of them even if they are out of my sight on the road to Jerusalem, but it will give me an opportunity to establish my government.’

‘If your father will let you.’

‘He said he would. Not that I trust him either, but he seemed pleased with my progress. He said he would leave matters in my hands and that he thought me capable.’

‘Did he?’ Alienor was not impressed. Richard was her heir specifically and when she died, Aquitaine would be his by right, independent of any paternal heritage. It did not surprise her that Henry was doing his utmost to keep Richard in his camp and out of hers. ‘I know you are more than capable, but be aware you are still on his leash, even if he has slackened it for the time being.’

‘Yes,
Mama, I have it in hand.’ He made a face. ‘Indeed, we did argue, but it was not about my rule in Aquitaine.’

‘Then about what?’

‘You.’ His complexion darkened. ‘I told him it was shameful that he still kept you locked up like this; I asked him to set you free if it really was his intention to have peace and cooperation in all of his lands.’

Alienor was darkly amused. ‘And what did he say to that?’

‘What he usually says when pushed into a corner where he does not have a good answer. That he would consider it well and let me know at a later time. That it was not as easy as forgiveness and clemency, and he had to think about the wider implications – which means he will do nothing.’

‘It is simple. While I am locked up here I cannot cause trouble for him. I doubt he will ever apply forgiveness and clemency to me.’

‘I told him I intended visiting you, and he did not object, but we both knew it was a sop because he had refused my other request. I will set you free, Mama, I promise you that.’

She did not answer. While not doubting his determination and sincerity, she knew what was and was not possible. He might have the military skill to reduce the fortress of Taillebourg to rubble, but it was not within his power to spring the locks at Sarum.

‘So, will you return to Poitou now you have made your report and been granted permission to return and rule as you will?’

He nodded. ‘I am on my way there now. My baggage wains have gone to Southampton.’ He hesitated as if deciding whether to say more.

‘Tell me,’ she said. ‘What else?’

Richard swept his hand through his hair leaving deep finger marks in the coppery waves. ‘While I was with Papa he received messengers from France. Louis is coming to England to pray at the tomb of St Thomas. That sickly son of his has a fever and he desires to pray for his safe recovery. It is best for me
to be absent because Louis will want to see his daughter, and if we are together, he might just moot a wedding.’

‘And that would be disastrous.’ Alienor was unsettled at the thought of having her former husband on English soil with her present one. ‘I am surprised your father granted Louis’ request.’

‘He says it is an opportunity for them to talk diplomacy on his territory and as compassion from one father to another.’ Richard rolled his eyes to show what he thought of that particular gambit. ‘They have to meet anyway, so best to take advantage and make it now. Doubtless Louis will be praying to St Thomas for more than just his son’s life; he’ll be asking for French victories over us, and Papa will be reciprocating with entreaties the other way.’

‘Undoubtedly, but Louis never could resist a shrine and the chance to amplify his pleas to the Almighty by invoking the saints. When we journeyed to Outremer, he sought out every one he could find in order to worship and collect a handful of dust or a relic to put in his coffer. He was obsessed. His army went home and he stayed because he hadn’t finished shrine-visiting.’ Alienor shook her head in remembered exasperation. ‘Abbé Suger kept writing to him begging him to return because France was threatened with rebellion. He listened eventually but he was reluctant. He’ll be desperate to worship at Thomas Becket’s tomb – it was Thomas that gave him a son in the first place by blessing his marriage bed.’

Richard gazed at her, his mouth slightly open.

‘Louis always needed the sanction of the Church to help him beget his children.’ She waved her hand. ‘Unfortunately with me and his second wife the clergy’s blessing only brought him girls even when the Pope got involved, but Philippe was born nine months after Louis granted Becket succour in France during the quarrel with your father.’

Richard grinned. ‘So in a way Thomas Becket is Philippe’s surrogate sire? How wonderfully ironic!’

Alienor laughed. ‘Oh, your visit has lightened my mood. It is so good to talk to you.’

‘I
would bring you back to Aquitaine if I could, Mama. Stow you away in my baggage and set you free the moment we crossed the Narrow Sea.’

Her laughter faded. ‘I long for freedom with all my heart, but how long would it last?’

Richard placed his hand over hers. ‘I mean it about setting you free, Mama. It is a promise I intend to keep.’

When she did not answer, he squeezed her hand. She looked at his fingers, young and smooth, but hard too with a warrior’s strength and adorned with the sapphire ring of St Valerie that was part of the regalia of the Counts of Poitou.

Intent was one thing and accomplishing it another, but if she believed in him, then at least it was another spar to cling to when despair threatened to drown her.