The Prince of Darkness (24 page)

First he sent for Arthur. He prepared himself very carefully for the interview and put on a red satin mantle decorated with rich gems; he wore a girdle set with pearls and diamonds and the baldrick which held up his sword glittered with emeralds. He was a dazzling sight.

He sat sprawled in a chair. He did not care to stand for he was very conscious of his lack of inches and always felt better on such occasions when he was seated.

Arthur, who was brought in by two guards, made a show of indifference but was not able to hide his nervousness altogether.

John surveyed him maliciously.

‘Ha, my young nephew who would be King. How fares it, Arthur?’

‘It has gone ill with me,’ said Arthur, ‘but it will not always be so.’

John raised his eyebrows and leisurely took off his gloves,
one adorned with a massive ruby, the other with a sapphire. He flung them nonchalantly on to a stool.

‘You set your hopes a little high, nephew.’

‘I think not.’

‘Well, you will doubtless be able to brood on the matter in your prison.’

‘So you will send me to prison?’

‘Where do you think I should send you? To Westminster Abbey to be crowned King?’

‘I did not think that.’

‘There you showed some sense. Why could you not be a good boy content with your very pleasant Duchy of Brittany?’

‘Because I have a right to other possessions.’

‘You mean mine? Have a care, boy. I might not like such talk.’

‘Then why do you bring me here if not to speak to me?’

‘I expect you to show humility, to fall to your knees, to admit your fault and beg for clemency.’

‘That I shall never do.’

‘Nay, if I had that tongue out you would never be able to.’

That made the boy grow pale. No doubt he had heard tales of his uncle’s methods.

John enjoyed his fear. He narrowed his eyes. ‘Take care, boy,’ he said. ‘I like not those who would take what is mine. You will be my prisoner, at my mercy. Know you this: that whatever I order my servants to do they will do – they dare not do aught else.’

‘I would rather you killed me than …’ began the boy and his voice was shrill with terror.

‘There are many ways of punishing your arrogance, nephew, and I could do them all. I could put out those haughty eyes, tear out that tongue.’ His eyes slid over the boy’s slender figure. ‘You
are scarce a man and I could do that to you which would mean that you would never know manhood. What say you to that?’

Where was the haughty would-be-King now? It was a frightened child who stood before him.

‘I … I …’

‘Come, speak up, boy. What say you to these suggestions? Come, speak. I like answers when I ask questions and my temper is not the most mild. You may have heard this.’

‘I would say,’ said Arthur, ‘that you would not do these things even if it were your power to.’

‘It is in my power to. You should know that.’

‘But … you would be reviled. The whole world would rise against an uncle who did such to his nephew who was but fifteen years old.’

‘Do I care for the world’s opinion? Nay, nephew, I do what I will. But I spoke but to frighten you and to impress on you that I need obedience. If you do as you are told, it may be that no harm will come to you. Take him away,’ he said to the guards. ‘And, Arthur, think of what I have said. Ask yourself what it would be like to be without that of which a word from me could rob you.’

Arthur was led away.

He’ll not sleep easily tonight, thought John laughing.

And now for Hugh.

He was a good-looking man. He stood there showing no fear so that it was hard to believe that he felt any. Isabella had said that he was never afraid. Could it be that she had a fancy for him?

John was glad he was seated. He would look very small beside Hugh de Lusignan. He stroked his red mantle; the touch of gems reassuring. Hugh might look noble but he, John, looked royal.

‘So you are my prisoner,’ he said.

Hugh bowed.

‘You should have made off last night. An error of judgement.’

‘’Twas indeed so,’ agreed Hugh.

‘And now you are my prisoner. You who have caused trouble in my realm and done everything you can to bring about revolt.’

Hugh was silent.

‘You know what we do with traitors.’

‘I am no traitor, my lord.’

‘No traitor when you stir strife in my realm?’

‘I was under no obligation to serve you and made no secret of my quarrel.’

‘You were commanded to meet a duellist in combat and refused.’

‘I would not have refused to meet you, my lord. It was only one of your hirelings whom I would not face.’

‘You have too great an opinion of yourselves, you Lusignans.’

‘I beg your pardon, my lord, but we are a great family.’

‘Do not speak of greatness in my presence. We are enemies, Hugh the Brown.’

‘’Tis so, my lord.’

‘And you are my prisoner.’

‘Taken in honourable battle.’

‘When you were in the act of taking possession of my royal mother!’

‘Who was taking part in war and therefore it was fair enough.’

‘Bah! Do not parley with me.’

‘As you wish, my lord.’

John sat back and narrowed his eyes. He wondered what he would do to Hugh. He could think of several forms of torture; but he knew that whatever was inflicted this man would preserve that outward calm, that indifference.

There was no fun with people like that. He couldn’t have the fun with him that he had had with little Arthur.

But he would humiliate him. That was the best way. Take some of the pride out of him.

He had an idea.

‘Take the prisoner away,’ he said.

They took him and John sat alone for a little while, his brows drawn together in a frown. He was thinking of Isabella and wondering how deep her feeling had gone for Hugh. Could she really have had some affection for him? He was a handsome fellow and Isabella was of course what he would call ripe. Hugh had not seen this; if he had … who knew what would have happened? Hugh was a fool, better at war than love, no doubt, and he had become a prisoner even in that.

He had no real reason to be jealous of Hugh. But he would humiliate him all the same.

He stood up and shouted. His servants came running.

‘There is no reason why we should stay here,’ he cried. ‘We shall prepare to leave at once for Normandy.’

He was so amused. He had thought of a brilliant idea. He had sent his servants forth to find farm carts – those in which cattle or hay had been carried – and in these, securely fettered, he put his prisoners. He laughed aloud to see them – haughty young Arthur, the would-be-King, riding there like a cow to market;
Hugh the Brown, would-be-husband of Isabella, like a proud bull going in to be inspected and bid for.

There were others of course but those were the two who gave him most pleasure.

Young Arthur was overcome with shame.

This, thought John unctuously, will be good for him. He was too haughty by far.

It was wonderful to ride thus, the conqueror. People had said that he would never be the king his father or brother were. They sniggered at his lying abed late with his wife. Any of them would have lain abed if they could have done so with Isabella. They had said he would lose his dominions, for the King of France was too wily for him, and ere long Arthur would be on the throne.

And how wrong he had proved them to be!

Philip would be very uneasy, overcome with shame to know that his protégé was in his enemy’s hands. And Hugh de Lusignan, too. This would show the upstart barons what happened when they opposed the King.

Oh yes, he was very content with himself riding through Normandy to Caen. He was going to show his prisoners to Isabella. That would be amusing. She should sit with him while they were trundled past. It would be quite a spectacle and how the prisoners would writhe with shame. Mental torture was often more rewarding than the physical kind, he was beginning to realise.

Arthur would not like to be seen in a farm cart chained like an animal.

And bold brave Hugh? What will Isabella think of you then?

Isabella was at Caen waiting to receive him. He hurried her off to the bedchamber immediately.

She laughed at him. It was the longest period they had been apart.

Later he boasted of his victory. ‘Speed is what is necessary, Isabella. If I had delayed it would have been victory for them. They would have taken my mother prisoner. Imagine that. The impudence of them!’

‘But you were there and stopped them.’

‘Aye, and took them prisoner. I have some fine prisoners to show you.’

She pouted slightly. ‘I do not greatly care for prisoners.’

‘I want you to see these. There is young Arthur himself.’

‘He’s only a child.’

‘Ha, hark who is talking! He’s older than you are!’

‘I shouldn’t like to be your prisoner.’

‘Nay,’ said John sentimentally. ‘I am yours.’

‘’Tis a pretty thought,’ she said.

‘And now I wish to show them to you.’

‘But I said I did not want to see them.’

‘But you will to please me.’

‘I thought
you
always wanted to please
me
.’

‘I do when your pleasure is mine.’

They laughed together; but he had implied that he was going to insist on her viewing the prisoners.

She didn’t want to. She hated unpleasant things and the sight of men in chains gave her no pleasure – particularly if they were handsome men. She was beginning to be a little wary of John. She had seen the redness tinge his eyes and it gave her a qualm or two. She would never forget how he had rolled on the floor and stuffed the rushes into his mouth.

If she were to have her way it would have to be subtly; and she must never appear to go against him.

So she found herself sitting in the courtyard beside him while the farm carts rolled by.

Poor little Arthur, he looked so sad and frightened too. He was such a boy. She knew he was a little older than she was but not much; and she shuddered to think of herself fettered in a farm cart, John’s prisoner.

And there was another. She started at the sight of him. Hugh! He stood up in the cart, his head high as though he were quite unaware of where he was. Her heart leaped at the sight of him and a great emotion swept over her. Oh not Hugh! she thought, and was afraid that she had spoken aloud as she knew John was aware of her every movement, and was watching the expression on her face.

Hugh had turned his head and was looking straight at her. What was that she saw in his eyes? She tried to answer him. Oh, Hugh, Hugh, I am sorry. It was not of my doing really. They forced me to it.

I wanted to be Queen, she thought. Yes, I did. I liked the ceremony and the clothes, the jewels, the people cheering and saying I was beautiful. I like my nights with John – but he frightens me sometimes. Oh, Hugh, if it hadn’t happened like this …

The cart had passed; she did not look after it but stared at the next one.

‘What thought you of your one-time betrothed?’ asked John.

She hesitated. She could not bring herself to speak flippantly.

She said: ‘I thought he bore himself like a brave man.’ John was silent. He thought: If she had cared for him she would never have dared speak of him like that.

Nay, she is content enough. Are her responses not enough to tell me that?

He gave orders that Arthur was to be sent under strict guard to Falaise; there he was to be held in the utmost security. If he was allowed to escape, he commented, he would not envy those who had been in charge of him. His sister Eleanor should go to Bristol. She was only a girl and he did not fear her. Let her be treated with courtesy.

Others he sent to Corfe Castle in Dorset.

‘I have not yet decided where I shall send Hugh the Brown,’ he told Isabella. ‘But it shall be a strong prison for that one. Such a bold brave man might well attempt escape.’

She did not answer.

Then he said: ‘I have it. It shall be here in Caen. We have some fine dungeons here – damp and cold. You can think of him when you and I are revelling together – but no, your thoughts must all be for me. I’ll not have it otherwise.’ Playfully he put his hands about her throat. ‘You’d not disappoint me, sweetheart.’