The Heart of the Lion Page 9

  The fighting was fierce and during it five of Richard’s knights and twenty men-at-arms were killed. The sight of their men lying dead infuriated the crusaders and they gave vent to their fury. That night they forgot their holy mission entirely; they were soldiers, far from home, determined to satisfy their lustful desires. They stormed the town pillaging, robbing and setting fire to the boats in the port.

  When dawn came it was seen that they had set up the English standard on the walls of the city.

  * * *

  When he arose that morning Philip saw the flag and he was angry. Richard went too far. How could the French who had their quarters in the town allow the English to fly their flag in such a manner? It was an admission of their superiority over their allies.

  He sent a messenger at once to the Villa Muschet and asked that Richard come to him. It was some time before Richard appeared. Philip marvelled when he saw him. He was fresh and alert; none would have guessed that he had been fighting far into the night. Battle stimulated Richard; there was no doubt of it. It was inactivity which he found hard to endure.

  ‘This is a sorry state of affairs,’ said Philip.

  ‘You think so?’

  ‘I do indeed.’ He slipped his arm through Richard’s and drew him to the window. He pointed to the English standard flying on the city wall. ‘That will not do.’

  ‘Methinks it does very well. It is an indication to these people that they must not insult me or my people.’

  ‘It would appear that your soldiers insulted them in the first place.’

  ‘They were over-sensitive.’

  ‘We are engaged in a Holy War. We cannot waste lives and money on petty battles such as this.’

  ‘We need to rest here. We need to refit our ships which have been damaged in the storm. We are engaged in a holy cause and Christians on the way must succour us in friendship. If they do not it is war.’

  ‘You are always so quick to take offence. Sometimes I think you live for your battles.’

  ‘I am a soldier, Philip.’

  ‘It seems sometimes you forget you are a king. That is something I never do. That is why I tell you that standard must come down.’

  ‘It stays where it is.’

  ‘Nay, Richard, it comes down.’

  ‘Tancred has to be shown that I mean what I say. If he does not pay me my dues I will take them. I will subdue the entire island. I shall not allow him to treat me and mine with impunity.’

  ‘This is no quarrel with Tancred. It is a dispute between your soldiers and the people. They resent them here and I am not surprised at that. Would you care for foreign soldiery on your lands, swaggering through the market places taking what they wished, insulting the women ... ?’

  ‘These people attempted to march on my camp.’

  ‘Because your men were making life intolerable for them. No matter, take that standard down.’

  ‘Is that a command?’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘And who is the King of France to command the King of England?’

  ‘I do not command the King of England, but the Duke of Normandy, who has sworn fealty to me as his liege lord.’

  ‘You are unjust.’

  ‘Nay, within my rights. Richard, we are together in an enterprise which needs all our skill and courage. Do not try our friendship too far. French troops are stationed here. How can they be content to rest under the English standard?’

  ‘Because the English placed it there in battle.’

  ‘A battle which should never have been fought. You are too impetuous, Richard. Have I not always told you so ... even in the old days?’

  Richard turned on his heel. His anger was great and he did not care to be reminded of the days when he had been content to ride with the King of France, to talk with him, to sleep in his bed.

  Several of his most trusted counsellors were waiting for him when he returned to the villa. They knew of his visit to the King of France and what must have been its purpose.

  ‘One thing which would be fatal at this juncture,’ they told him, ‘would be conflict between our men and the French. This there will assuredly be while the English standard floats over the town.’

  ‘Let there be,’ cried Richard in a passion. ‘I placed that standard there and there it shall remain. Tancred is going to understand that if he does not meet my demands I will take the whole of his island.’

  ‘All very well, my lord, if it were not for the French. What if Tancred should ask their help and they give it ... ?’

  ‘Philip would never fight against me.’

  ‘He has ordered you to remove the standard, commanding you as King of France to his vassal of Normandy. If you left it there he might be forced to take action to save his face. You have come here not to fight against the French but to stand with them against the Infidel. It was for this cause that the treasure was gathered together.’

  Richard was a little sobered and when one of his friends suggested he go to the King of France and see what might be worked out, he agreed.

  Philip anxious not to alienate Richard, was ready to be reasonable. He was longing to leave with him for Acre and to get away from Sicily where everything seemed to be going wrong.

  He understood how embarrassing it would be for Richard to remove the standard, so he would not ask him to do that. He would suggest that the Golden Lilies of France be placed side by side with it and the two flags together float over the town. As for the keys of the city which were now in Richard’s hands, these should be put in the custody of the impartial Knights of the Temple and every effort should be made to persuade Tancred to return Queen Joanna’s dowry.

  This was a reasonable solution, and the shrewdness of the King of France had saved the situation created through the impetuosity of the King of England.

  * * *

  Tancred, realising that he could no longer evade Richard’s demands, suggested that he and Richard meet to discuss this troublesome matter of Joanna’s dowry. The outcome of this meeting was that Tancred admitted to Richard’s right and offered to pay him twenty thousand ounces of gold to compensate him for the goods his sister had brought with her as a bride. This he pointed out would be far more useful to the crusading King than a golden table. Richard agreed to this and the matter was concluded. There was also to be considered the legacy which William had left to the last King Henry and which Richard, as his son and heir, was claiming.

  He had a daughter, Tancred said, whom he was anxious to see married well. If Richard could offer her a suitable bridegroom he would add her dowry to the legacy and that would make a considerable amount. In fact for a good husband he was willing to make the legacy up to another twenty thousand ounces of gold.

  Forty thousand ounces! Richard’s eyes sparkled at the prospect. He must have those forty thousand ounces!

  ‘If I should die childless I intend to make my nephew Arthur of Brittany my heir,’ said Richard. ‘He is the next in succession for he is the son of my brother Geoffrey who was older than my brother John; though John was falsely led by my father to believe that he had a right to the throne that is not so while Arthur lives. Arthur – in the event of my dying childless – is my heir and I shall proclaim this. I am agreeable that your daughter shall be affianced to my nephew Arthur.’

  Tancred was delighted. He had come well out of his troubles. True he had had to compensate Richard but that was preferable to losing his island. But in doing so he had gained the prospect of a very brilliant marriage for his daughter. She would be Queen of England after Richard’s death if Richard had no children, and he had heard rumours that Richard was not over fond of women. Of course he would doubtless do his duty and marry and then attempt to produce a son. Tancred like everyone else had heard the rumours about Princess Alice of France who was betrothed to him and he knew too that Queen Eleanor was waiting with the Princess Berengaria of Navarre for Richard to summon them.

  It was a strange affair. Richard and Philip such dear friends and all the time
Richard trying to escape from his betrothal to Philip’s sister and seeming in no hurry to enter into marriage with Berengaria.

  There were rumours about Richard’s private life. Tancred hoped they were true, for his great hope now would be to see his daughter Queen of England which she could very well be if Richard died childless.

  So the matter of the dowry was settled to Richard’s satisfaction and Richard ordered that all the valuables which his men had taken when they sacked Messina should be returned to their rightful owners. This was done with reluctance by those who had taken possession of the treasures but Richard’s word was law. Philip suggested that he and Richard should meet in public, and there embrace and swear to each other that they would be good friends, that they would not quarrel together nor allow their armies to do so.

  This was done with great effect and the tension through Sicily was considerably relaxed, and with the matter of the dowry settled there was only one thing to keep them in Sicily: the weather.

  ‘We have tarried too long,’ Philip complained. ‘We dare not face the seas now that winter is coming on. We shall have to wait for the spring.’

  This was good sense and Richard had to agree with it. There was still no mention of Berengaria who was waiting now at Naples with Eleanor for Richard to send for her. Yet how could he until Philip had agreed to release him from his betrothal to Alice?

  * * *

  As they had delayed so long that they must pass the winter in Sicily, Richard built a fort-like palace of wood which was called Mate Griffon. This meant Kill Greek, a rather unfortunate name as there were several Greeks in Sicily. Here in this wooden palace he lived in great style and it was his pleasure to entertain the King of France there. They gave entertainments for each other and there were only occasional disturbances between the French and English. All knew that by fighting together they displeased their Kings who had become the dearest of friends once more.

  The Lion and The Lamb were lying down together, it was said.

  There would always be the uncertainty between them though. Richard often thought of Alice and asked himself how he could broach the matter to Philip. Philip too thought of his sister and wondered when Richard would raise the subject of her future. He wanted to discuss his sister with Richard but he knew Richard would ask him to release him from his promise to marry Alice, and although Philip did not wish to refuse Richard any request at the same time he could not allow his sister to be cast aside. It was true she had been the mistress of Richard’s father and possibly borne her lover a child, and no man could be expected to marry her in such circumstances. Yet she was a Princess of France.

  And Berengaria? Philip laughed slyly to think of her waiting and waiting, each day looking for the messenger who did not come, wondering what was happening to her laggard lover who was so slow to claim her as his wife.

  ‘He is sporting with the King of France, my lady,’ murmured Philip.

  It was a situation which amused him. He had contemplated suggesting a marriage with Richard’s sister Joanna, but let that wait. She was a charming woman, but like Richard, he did not want to think of marriage now.

  So they vied with each other to give the better entertainments and there was much to occupy them during the waiting months.

  Sometimes Philip was overwhelmed by Richard’s brilliance. There has never been such a general, he thought. Any army he commanded would come to victory simply because he was there. But Richard had his weaknesses and while these saddened Philip as a friend, as a rival King he must be grateful for them. Richard’s impetuosity over the Tancred affair could have caused a great deal of trouble and if Richard had not been such a brilliant commander it might have ended in disaster for the English, even disaster to this crusade. Yes in certain ways he was a weak man and never did he show this weakness more clearly than over the affair of the canes.

  On a sparkling February day Richard and some of his knights rode out with the French to engage in a mock battle in the meadows outside Messina. This they did with great verve and Richard as usual showed his skill to such advantage that all agreed he was the greatest warrior of the day.

  Riding back to Mate Griffon they passed through the town and there they encountered a peasant leading a donkey which was laden with canes.

  Richard stopped him and offered to buy the canes and as the peasant dared not refuse he handed them over.

  ‘Come,’ he cried. ‘Instead of lances we will use canes.’

  His opponent was the French knight, William des Barres, noted for his prowess and a worthy adversary for Richard.

  They had soon broken their canes on each other but in doing so William des Barres had torn Richard’s cappa which was a kind of riding hood. Richard had inherited the notorious Plantagenet temper and the thought that this Frenchman had dared to tear his garment infuriated him. Angrily he went into the attack and unseated des Barres but in doing so was thrown from his own horse. One of his men immediately brought forward another horse for him but his fury affected his judgement and it seemed that des Barres would have to be declared the victor. To be beaten by a Frenchman who had had the temerity to tear his cappa was too much for Richard. He lay about him furiously at the same time shouting abuse at the Frenchman. Had des Barres been one of his own knights doubtless he would have considered it expedient to allow himself to be beaten. Not so the Frenchman. He continued to fight with all his skill and vigour and for once Richard was in danger of defeat. One of his men came hurrying to his rescue which only angered him the more.

  ‘Let be, let be!’ he cried. ‘Do you think I am incapable of settling this Frenchman? I will kill him ere I have finished with him.’

  What had begun as play was becoming serious. French and English knights looked on in dismay. Richard was hot with rage, des Barres cool with the determination not to give way simply because he had offended the dignity of the King of England.

  It was obvious that Richard was not going to succeed in overthrowing des Barres. His cane was broken and he threw it away from him.

  ‘Get from my sight,’ he shouted. ‘I never want to see you again. I see you are an enemy of mine and as such I shall regard you.’

  Alarmed, des Barres went to Philip and told him what had happened.

  ‘I believe, my lord,’ he said, ‘that Richard has it in his heart to kill me.’

  ‘’Tis that hot temper,’ replied Philip. ‘His father had it. With him it was worse than with Richard. He would lie on the floor and gnaw the rushes and often came near to doing himself an injury when these rages were on him. I have seen the King of England possessed with this wild anger on one or two occasions. Though fortunately for him these spells of rage are less frequent than they were with his father. Leave this matter to me, I will speak with him. Have no fear; it will pass.’

  When they were next together Philip mentioned the matter to Richard.

  ‘I hear you are angry with one of my knights.’

  ‘William des Barres insulted me.’

  ‘He meant it not. It was an accident. You sported with him and your garment was torn.’

  ‘He did it on purpose. It was my cappa that was torn. He was going for my face with the cane. He hoped to put out my eyes.’

  ‘So that was what you thought.’

  ‘Indeed it was so. I will show you the cappa. He was clearly aiming for my eyes.’

  ‘He is contrite.’

  ‘So well he may be. He will regret this.’

  ‘Richard, it was an accident and it happened in sport. Take it as such.’

  ‘Nothing will induce me to receive that man. He had better keep from my sight.’

  ‘You whipped up your anger against him. You know you do this now and then. It’s not good, Richard.’

  ‘Oh, and who are you to criticise me?’

  ‘Your sovereign lord, my lord Duke of Normandy.’

  ‘You are fond of reminding me of that.’

  ‘I find it necessary from time to time.’

  ‘One of these d
ays ...’

  ‘Yes, Richard, one of these days you will try to take France from me so that you do not have to acknowledge me as your sovereign lord.’

  ‘How could that be? Moreover I prefer to think of myself as the King of England.’

  ‘King of England, the King of France, who loves you, warns you to guard your temper. You inherited it from your father. He was a great King but he would have been a greater one without that temper. Forget this trouble with des Barres.’

  ‘I shall never forget it. Let the man keep out of my path.’

  ‘I will see that he does that until you are yourself again. We want no more trouble. Methinks we have been too long in this place. We should have left earlier and so should we but for your quarrel with Tancred.’

  ‘We shall start for Acre as soon as the spring comes.’

  ‘Do you plan to take Tancred with you?’

  ‘Tancred! What gives you such ideas?’

  ‘I thought you had become very friendly with him.’

  ‘We have made an agreement.’

  ‘To marry your nephew to his daughter. I thought your attitude towards him had undergone an abrupt change.’

  ‘He’s a reasonable enough fellow.’

  ‘When he knows himself beaten, yes.’

  ‘Philip, are you jealous of Tancred?’

  ‘Perhaps ... a little.’

  Richard laughed loudly. His good spirits were considerably restored and he seemed to have forgotten the ire which the des Barres incident had aroused in him.

  * * *

  Tancred was indeed determined to court Richard’s good will. His position was dangerous. King Henry of Germany, husband of Constancia, was naturally incensed at the truce between Tancred and Richard, and, as Henry was shortly to be crowned Emperor, he would be more powerful than he was before. Richard’s sister Joanna had supported Constancia’s claim and had been imprisoned for it. Her brother had understandably rescued her from that indignity but it had not been expected that Richard would call a truce with Tancred. Henry now regarded Richard as his enemy. Philip was aware of this and that was why he had shrewdly kept out of the quarrel. He knew that when one embarked on a crusade one needed all the friends one could muster. It could never be certain what an army might encounter on its journey, and it was foolish to make enemies.