The Follies of the King Read online

  ‘You have not forgotten how to pay compliments, my lord.’

  ‘In your presence, my lady, they would rise naturally to the lips of any man.’

  ‘So you know who I am?’ she asked.

  ‘My lady, I have been long in this noisome prison. They say that many have suffered from visions. I cannot but help wonder whether that is what is happening to me now. It may be that this is a dream from which I shall shortly wake. In this dream I am speaking to the most beautiful woman in England and France and in the whole world, I dareswear. The Queen herself.’

  ‘Yes, indeed you pay pretty compliments. I am no vision, Mortimer. I am your Queen. I will say adieu. The lieutenant is bewildered.’

  ‘My lady, if I could―’

  ‘Yes, Mortimer, what would you have of me?’

  ‘I am afraid to ask it.’

  ‘You afraid? I doubt it. You have the look of a man who knows little of fear.’

  ‘If I could see you again―’

  ‘Who knows. It may come to pass.’

  She turned away and left the gardens.

  * * *

  In her apartment she went to a window and looked out. He was still in the garden and talking earnestly to Alspaye. As for herself a wild excitement had taken possession of her.

  What fierce eyes he had— large dark passionate eyes. She had sensed the vitality of him— the essential masculinity. ‘All that time incarcerated in the Tower,’ she murmured. ‘Recently bereaved of a beloved uncle and yet I never saw a man who had more fire in him. How his eyes flashed when he spoke of Gaveston and the Despensers! How such a man as he is would despise such as them. How he would despise Edward!

  Mortimer— the King of the Marcher lands. Such a man― she thought― I have wanted to meet all my life.

  She must see him again soon. She would make Alspaye understand that he was to be taken to the garden on the next day and she would be there.

  Perhaps she should be a little more discreet. But she was tired of discretion.

  She had been humiliated too long and it might well be that this was the time for action.

  She scarcely slept that night. She could only think that somewhere in this Tower he too was sleeping.

  Alspaye was eager to please the Queen. He was also under the spell of Mortimer; she saw that and she was not surprised. Alspaye was delighted that the Queen was interested in his prisoner.

  The Queen joined them in the gardens.

  ‘You see your vision has returned, Mortimer.’

  ‘To put such hope in my heart that I dare not believe in it,’ he replied.

  ‘You would dare anything,’ she answered.

  ‘I was once known for my daring,’ he agreed.

  ‘And will be again, I doubt not.’

  ‘That is for the future.’

  ‘And you believe in your future?’

  ‘I am beginning to, my lady.’

  ‘Rest assured, your faith will not be displaced.

  ‘You are good to me,’ he said.

  ‘I like your kind, Mortimer,’ she answered.

  He understood at once that this was a reference to the King and his kind.

  He answered: ‘When a man has lost his freedom he is reckless of what else he might lose. He speaks his mind. I will say this that I have always felt deeply for you. If you had raised an army to drive out of the country those who displeased you, I should have been at the head of that army.’

  ‘Yes, Mortimer, you speak rashly indeed when you talk of raising armies.’

  ‘How could I raise armies, madam, when I am a poor prisoner?’

  ‘But a moment ago you admitted that was but a temporary state. One of these days―’

  He turned to her and they faced each other. Some understanding passed between them. In that moment they both realized the deep significance of this encounter.

  ‘Mortimer,’ she said, ‘I believe there is much you and I should say to each other.’

  ‘Standing here with you,’ he answered, ‘is for me, complete delight. Here am I a prisoner, death could steal up on me at any moment, yet I can say that I never was as happy in the whole of my life as I am at this moment.’

  ‘And why is this?’

  ‘Because I have found you.’

  She was shaken with emotion and she said: ‘It was I who found you, was it not?’

  ‘Let us say we found each other.’

  ‘We have met but twice and that in this prison garden with Alspaye keeping guard on you.’

  ‘Alspaye is a good friend to mc. He hates the Despensers.’

  ‘How many people in this country hate the Despensers?’

  ‘Myriads. We have but to find them― to rouse them. Then I swear to you in a very short time the pretty Despenser will go the way of Gaveston.’

  ‘How you hate the Despenser.’

  ‘I hate him more than ever now I have spoken with my incomparable lady Queen.’

  ‘The King is as he is―’

  ‘It is no way for a King to be.’

  ‘He has done his duty. You know I have a fine son― two sons.’

  ‘Young Edward is growing up. That is a matter for rejoicing.’

  ‘You are speaking treason, Mortimer.’

  ‘I know it. How could I help but be treasonable to the King when I am standing so close to the Queen.’

  ‘You mean―’

  ‘I mean what is best not said. But being a woman as well as a queen you will know.’

  She said: ‘I must not stay here. What if we were seen?’

  ‘It would be noted.’

  ‘And then we should meet no more.’

  ‘My lady, we must meet again.’

  He had taken her hand and the pressure of his fingers thrilled her. She thought: I have waited too long. Mortimer is the man for me.

  She said in a somewhat breathless voice: ‘I will arrange it.’

  * * *

  She sent for Alspaye.

  ‘Your prisoner Mortimer interests me,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, my lady.’

  ‘When I talked with him in the gardens he spoke very freely.’

  ‘Prisoners become reckless, my lady.’

  ‘It occurs to me that I should have further talk with him. I should discover what is in his mind.’

  Alspaye bowed his head. ‘Do you wish to go to his cell?’

  ‘That would create certain speculation, would it not?’ She thought of the cells, damp on the walls, airless and stuffy. No, that was not the place where she and Mortimer should be together.

  ‘If I sent for him to my apartments―’

  ‘He would come with his guards, my lady. The King’s orders were that he should be very specially guarded.’

  ‘Yet he walks with you in the gardens.’

  ‘Twas so, my lady, but the guards were behind the doors which led to the gardens. It was only because he was with me that they allowed him out of their sight.’

  ‘And if I sent for him, to have talk with him― here― say in my apartments―’

  ‘Then I should bring him and stay within call, my lady.’

  ‘And his guards?’

  ‘They would expect to escort him and be at hand.’

  She felt irritated. There was no way in which she and Mortimer could be alone without its being known.

  .She did not mind Alspaye’s knowing. He was a man of discretion and had already witnessed their meeting in the garden. But she must be free to be alone with Mortimer. The desire for excitement and adventure, having been suppressed all these years, would remain so no longer. She was ready to take any risks.

  ‘I doubt not the guards take a little wine now and then.’

  ‘When they are on duty my lady they take very little. There is much carousing when they have their free time though. Life in the Tower seems to give them a fancy for wine.’

  ‘Let them be given extra wine and make sure that it is potent.’

  ‘Drugged, you mean, my lady?’

  She did
not answer but her smile was enough. ‘When they are asleep let Mortimer be brought to me― by you. I will be responsible for his safety.’

  ‘If you will be responsible for him, my lady―’

  ‘I have told you I will.’

  ‘Then I will see what can be done.’

  ‘Not only see,’ she retorted, ‘but do it. I shall remember you with gratitude, Lieutenant.’

  * * *

  He came into her apartment. He looked different. He wore his confidence like a garment.

  He came swiftly towards her and taking her hand, kissed it fervently. His lips were warm. Then he raised his shining eyes to her face.

  She stepped towards him and laid her hand on his shoulders. It was enough.

  The next moment he had picked her up in his arms and held her closely against him.

  She felt his lips on hers, demanding, certain of himself ― Impertinence! she thought indulgently. Am I not the Queen? She was laughing to herself.

  ‘Mortimer,’ she murmured. ‘This is part of the vision perhaps.’

  ‘Nay, nay,’ he said. ‘Since I first saw you it has happened often in my dreams― now comes the reality.’

  ‘I― the Queen,’ she began.

  ‘My Queen,’ he said, ‘my Queen for evermore.’

  He was a practised lover. He had known many women, she guessed that.

  And what had she known? Reluctant Edward! How she hated Edward, more so now she knew what it was to lie with a real man.

  ‘Mortimer, Mortimer,’ she moaned, ‘my dearest Mortimer from the first moment I knew it was you―’

  His answer was in his fervent lovemaking. They lay side by side, fingers entwined.

  ‘There is so much we should talk of,’ she said.

  But there was no time for talk. They must make love again and again.

  Nothing else would satisfy him― or her.

  How she wished that she could hold back time! How was she going to live without Mortimer after this? She was a passionate woman who had been stifling her real emotions for too long. Now they were breaking forth. It was a flood which was bursting the banks; it was flowing over her resolutions, her ambitions, everything. There was nothing in her life just now but her need of Mortimer.

  It was more than consummation of their love. It was the beginning of a new life for her. Mortimer was going to be more than her lover. That was something they both knew instinctively; and she would never forget that although he was aware of this yet he must cast it all aside that they might first shake this fierce desire which possessed them both.

  ‘Have you any doubt,’ murmured Mortimer, ‘that you and I were made for each other?’

  ‘None,’ she answered. ‘Oh my dear one, how thankful I am that I have found you.’

  But they must part. How frustrating that was. If only they could have lain together through the night and talked in between bouts of lovemaking. What bliss that would have been.

  ‘Yes, at least we have had this. Let us not forget that,’ said Mortimer.

  ‘And when shall we be together again?’ cried Isabella. ‘Alspaye will know what has happened.’

  ‘1 believe we can trust Alspaye.’

  ‘And the guards? We cannot drug them every night.’

  ‘Nay, but we must find a means.’

  ‘How? Where? In the garden? In your cell? No, gentle Mortimer, my love, we must find a means for I cannot endure to be away from you. You have shown me what I have missed. Oh Mortimer, why were you not the son of the King of England?’

  ‘My Queen, my Queen! I could never have believed there was such a woman. I would I could carry you off to my Marcher country. There I would hold you against all who came to take you from me.’

  ‘One day, Mortimer― One day. I swear to it. I swear. Oh there is so much to say. But you are here. We must free you― That is the first thing. We must free you from the Tower.’

  ‘When can I be with you again?’

  ‘We must go carefully. There is so much at stake.’

  ‘But I must see you soon. How can I stay away from you after this?

  Knowing that we are both in this Tower together and these thick walls divide us―’

  ‘I shall arrange something. Dear Mortimer, you must dress now. You must go back to your dungeon. Alspaye cannot wait much longer. The guards will be awakening from their sleep. Dear Mortimer, your life is the most precious thing on earth to me. It must be preserved― for the future. One day, my love― one day―’

  He saw that she was right. They dressed hastily. One last embrace and Alspaye came in to conduct him to his dungeon.

  * * *

  She was being driven mad. She had seen him in the garden but what could they do there but touch hands? She could stand close to him, feel the strength of his body. It maddened her, and he shared her feelings. They had wakened such massive floods of passion in each other that it was almost impossible to restrain them.

  ‘What can we do?’ cried Mortimer in despair.

  It was not easy to arrange another night even with Alspaye’s connivance. He had of course guessed the state of affairs and understood the Queen’s emotion.

  Poor woman, had she not been married to Edward all these years?

  There was one night when it was arranged that a few doors should be unlocked and the guards drunk again and this time when the lovers had slaked their passion to a certain degree, Isabella insisted that the first thing that must be done was to arrange Mortimer’s escape from the Tower.

  ‘I will go to the Marcher country and you will join me there,’ he said. ‘We will raise an army against the King.’

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘not the Marcher country. That could be unsafe. You must go to France.’

  ‘And you?’

  ‘I would find some means of joining you there. My brother would help us.

  And we would come against Edward and the Despensers. I will get my son with me and I shall be fighting to put him on the throne. You and I, gentle Mortimer, will rule for him until he is of age.’

  ‘If this could but be achieved―’

  ‘Why should it not? The people love me―’ She paused. They had loved her because they said she was not only beautiful but virtuous; she had allowed herself to be humiliated by Edward and had still borne him children. When they knew that Mortimer was her paramour would they love her just the same? But of course they would. She would charm them with her beauty and she would only be giving them her son— so like his grandfather— in place of their dissolute King.

  ‘Yes,’ she went on, ‘the people would be on my side. They hate the Despensers. They want them banished. We should have the people with us.’

  ‘It shall be,’ cried Mortimer. ‘Oh, my Queen, you have brought love such as I never dreamed of into my life and with it hope.’

  She had never been so excited. Everything she had always wanted was coming to her. She had always known that hers was a sensuous and passionate nature and she marvelled that she had been able to suppress her natural desires so long. But then she had needed a Mortimer to arouse them. And here he was and with him came the possibility that the dreams she had long cherished were about to come true.

  What she had wanted was a strong man to stand beside her. Here he was without the slightest doubt. And this man, who was to have her complete trust and who was to stand beside her no matter what happened to them, must inevitably be her lover.

  Life had never seemed so promising.

  Now she must give herself to the task with her unbounded energy. It would help to take her mind from the yearnings of her body.

  And that task was to free Mortimer from the Tower.

  * * *

  She rode out of the Tower. She was leaving the palace for a few days. It was better so in case there should have been talk. Moreover she had work to do. She was going to see Adam of Orlton, the Bishop of Hereford.

  It was never easy for the Queen to go anywhere without taking with her a large company so it was fortunate that Adam
was at this time in London and she could ride out as though merely taking the air.

  The Bishop received her warmly. He was in disgrace with the King but the Queen had never been unfriendly towards him. He was against the Despensers and none could be more so than she was. She believed that she could rely on Adam’s help.

  He himself would have been in the Tower if it had not been that he was a churchman and under the protection of Canterbury and York so she could be sure of his sympathy.

  ‘My lord Bishop,’ she said, ‘I have matters of great moment to discuss with you. I need your help.’

  ‘My lady,’ replied the Bishop, ‘if it is in my power to give it, that help is yours.’

  ‘I can no longer endure the rule of the Despensers.’

  ‘My lady, you are not alone in your feelings. If it could be put to the country I’ll warrant there would be few who did not agree with you.’

  ‘It is time they went. The King should never have recalled them.’

  ‘Alas, he has done so.’

  ‘My lord Bishop, it is clear to me that if we rid ourselves of the Despensers before long they would be replaced― even as this young Hugh has replaced Gaveston.’

  The Bishop nodded in agreement.

  ‘It must not be allowed to happen, my lord Bishop,’ insisted the Queen.

  ‘My lady, can it be prevented?’

  ‘In one way. The King’s son and mine is growing fast.’

  ‘But a boy yet, my lady.’

  ‘Old enough to be crowned King. There have been others of his age.’

  ‘A Regency?’ asked the Bishop eagerly.

  ‘Chosen with care. My lord Bishop, what we talk of is of the utmost secrecy.

  It is only because of the dire need that I would speak thus.’

  ‘I know it well, my lady. But these matters are in men’s minds and it is well that they be spoken of― among those who could have it in their hands to avoid disasters.’