The Vow on the Heron

by Виктория Холт

  When Philippa was alone with her husband she broke the news of William Montacute’s capture. Edward was deeply distressed.

  ‘William was always a good friend to me,’ he said. ‘In fact I know of none other outside my family whom I love so well. I trust he will not be treated badly. I must do what I can to get him released.’

  ‘It will not be an easy matter,’ the Queen pointed out, ‘for all know him to be one of your most faithful friends.’

  Edward wanted to know how he had been taken and was even more distressed to know that it had been in a mere skirmish near the town of Lille.

  ‘I must set about getting him released without delay,’ he declared.

  ‘It will not be easy. Philip will not readily let him go.’

  But I must do my best. I shall send a message to Philip immediately.’

  Philippa was certain that after suffering a disastrous defeat during which his fleet had been routed Philip was very unlikely to parley for the return of one of Edward’s friends.

  After a few days she broached the subject of the family with Edward.

  ‘They are all here in Ghent,’ she said. ‘Is that wise?’

  ‘I was thinking how delightful it is for us all to be together though it is only for a short time.’

  ‘So it is,’ said Philippa, ‘but the people will not like it if the entire family is out of England. They will be restive. You know how it is. They might turn against us.’

  Edward pondered this and in his heart he knew it was true. He had been very foolish to have allowed Isabella to accompany him. She should have stayed in the palace of the Tower and Joanna should have been sent to join her.

  ‘Isabella pleaded so earnestly ...’ he began.

  ‘I know,’ replied Philippa indulgently, ‘and she can do as she wills with you.’

  Our daughter is such an enchanting child.’

  ‘Still,’ said Philippa, ‘I think that she and Joanna should return to England. The little boys must stay with me, of course, and Edward must be with you here. But the girls should go back. It is no place for them here and they will be an extra anxiety for you.’

  ‘They will hate to go. Joanna has only just come back to us.’

  ‘I know, I know. But, my dear lord, they must go. Isabella will forget her disappointment in comforting Joanna.’

  Edward knew that she was right.

  Shortly after—although Isabella protested—the two Princesses set sail for England. To please Isabella Edward made sure that she travelled in great style. She had three ladies-in-waiting while Joanna as the younger had but two; they had new gowns and cloaks bordered with fur and fashioned in the German style which was new to them. Isabella was a little placated and as her younger sister was put into her care and she could feel her importance she accepted her fate.

  ‘Ere long,’ the King promised her, ‘we shall all be together.’

  * * *

  Although Edward had routed the French and destroyed the naval power of France it was beginning to be borne home to him that to win this war was a near impossible feat. If it had not been necessary to fight on foreign soil transport problems would not have arisen. Constantly victory was either snatched from him or he was unable to consolidate his gains because he must pause to wait for supplies. This was the case at Tourney which he had besieged and violently attacked but which he had to abandon because of lack of supplies for his army.

  Suddenly it seemed to him that there was one way only to settle this dispute and that was to challenge Philip to single combat.

  Edward delighted in this because he had been a champion of the joust all his life and nothing could have pleased him more than to parade before a glittering assembly with his opponent, the King of France.

  Philip however had no such ambitions and declined to meet Edward, his reason being that Edward had addressed him as the Duke of Valois when his title was the King of France. It was an excuse of course, said Edward. And it was true that all knew of the prowess on the field of the King of England.

  Even had Philip been inclined to accept the challenge he would have had to heed the many warnings which came his way. Not that he would have accepted it in any case. He was far too wily. Settled by single combat! A crown! He had never heard such folly.

  His sister Jeanne, Countess of Hainault, who was Edward’s mother-in-law, warned her brother not to take part in any such combat for she had seen Edward in action and she knew that Philip would be killed.

  She had heard from Philippa and knew how her daughter deplored this war which she believed could bring nothing but misery and death to both sides. Countess Jeanne was at this time in a convent, her husband being dead and her daughters settled in marriage, and she made up her mind that she was going to do all she could to stop this senseless conflict between the members of her family.

  When Edward heard what was afoot, he was dubious. He had had his great sea victory and had succeeded in crippling the French navy, and would have liked to have gone on from there.

  But Philippa pointed out to him that the cost of providing the means to go to war was so great that she doubted the people would endure more taxation.

  Edward at last agreed to consider the proposals the Countess had put forth and to the relief of Philippa and many others a truce was agreed upon. He left Robert of Artois in command of his army and prepared to return to England.

  This will give us a little respite,’ said Philippa. ‘Oh how I long to be in England with the children!’

  To her great delight they made preparations to leave Flanders.

  * * *

  It was November before they left—not the best time to cross the Channel and they had scarcely lost sight of the French coastline when a terrible storm arose. The ships were tossed and buffeted and all thought their last hour had come.

  Some fell on their knees and prayed to God for His help. Many were certain that French witches had stirred up the elements and produced this fearful tempest so that the King might perish or even if he lived, be so terrified that he would never cross the sea again.

  Edward was not likely to be so deterred when there was a crown to be won. They should know that he had only agreed to the truce because he needed the respite. Scotland was beginning to give him many uneasy qualms, and he knew instinctively that he had been away from England too long.

  He was depressed. He would have liked to come home with the fruits of a decisive victory. Important though the naval battle had been it was far from that. The French might have lost sea power but they seemed to be unbeatable on land.

  Philippa noticed how angry he looked as they rode to the Tower. She was always deeply conscious of his moods and when the black temper started to rise she was the only one who could soothe him and stop its breaking out into that full fury which could bring trouble to anyone with whom he came into contact.

  As they approached the Tower they were surprised to find that the place seemed deserted. Edward’s brow darkened still further.

  ‘What can have happened?’ he muttered and there was great anxiety in his tone, for his thoughts immediately went to his daughters who should be guarded in the fortress.

  He had given special instructions to the Constable of the Tower, Nicholas de la Bêche, that there should always be a guard round the Tower; he had assigned twenty men at arms and fifty archers to him for this purpose. Where were they now?

  The King rode into the Tower. Had he been a stranger he could have done so unchallenged.

  ‘Where are the Princesses?’ he roared, but there was no one to answer him.

  In a fury he dismounted; one of his attendants took the reins and, with Philippa beside him, he strode into the Tower.

  There was no sign of anyone. The fortress was completely unguarded.

  Isabella appeared suddenly and with her Joanna.

  Seeing their father and mother the girls ran to them and Isabella threw herself into her father’s arms, Joanna into her mother’s.

  For a few seconds Edward
’s expression softened and then as he thought of the danger these precious children might have been in, unattended as they were he shouted: ‘Where are the guards? Where is the Constable?’

  ‘We like to be here by ourselves,’ said Isabella.

  ‘By yourselves! Do you tell me that you are here alone?’

  ‘We have three of the ladies with us and some servants and the others will all be back soon. They have only gone into the town to see their friends.’

  Edward cried: By God, someone shall pay for this.’

  The palace was now full of noise and bustle as the King’s attendants settled in. Edward himself grimly awaited the return of Nicholas de la Bèche.

  When the Constable returned he was white with horror. He guessed that this would be the end of his career, perhaps his life. He had deserted his post; he had left the King’s daughters unprotected; it was an act which must certainly arouse the Plantagenet temper to its wildest heights.

  ‘So,’ cried Edward, ‘you have seen fit to return to your duty.’

  ‘My lord,’ stammered de la Bèche, ‘I have been close all the time ... I kept the Tower in sight ...’

  ‘You were not close enough to witness our arrival or you would have come scuttling back long ere this, I doubt not. And your guards, man, where were they? Carousing in taverns I doubt not! Oh, you will be sorry for this day, I promise you.’

  Nicolas de la Bèche was trembling so much that he could not speak.

  ‘Take this man away,’ roared the King. ‘I will decide what shall be done with him. And his guards too who deserted their posts but he is the prime culprit. By God’s teeth, Constable of the Tower no more, you will regret this day’s work.’

  Edward paced up and down trying to devise a punishment horrible enough to fit the crime.

  Philippa came to him. ‘Dear lord,’ she said, ‘this matter is spoiling your delight in your family. It has made you forget that we are all here together and in England, and it has been so long ere this has happened.’

  ‘All the more reason why he should suffer.’

  ‘I have discovered that he visited his mistress.’

  ‘Villain.’

  ‘I doubt she thinks so,’ said the Queen. ‘Edward put aside your anger. It grieves us all. The Constable is beside himself with grief and remorse.’

  ‘And terror I doubt not, as I would have him. He contemplates what awaits him and I promise you it shall not be pleasant.’

  ‘My lord, promise me something else.’ ‘What is this?’

  ‘That you will forget your anger and look at this matter calmly.’

  ‘Calmly! When my daughters were in peril.’

  ‘They were not. The people of London love them. So do the attendants. They left their posts briefly and if there had been trouble would have been back to guard the children with their lives. I believe that the Constable and his guards have suffered enough.’

  ‘I intend to make an example of them. His head shall be on the bridge that all may see it. I’ll have him flayed alive ...’ ‘Oh, my lord, such a bitter punishment ... ‘

  ‘Well, perhaps it’ll be the traitor’s death. He has assuredly been a traitor to me.’

  Philippa shivered. ‘My lord, I beg of you, please me in this.’

  ‘Do I not always do my best to please you?’

  ‘You do and that is why I know you will do so now.’

  ‘Philippa, you are constantly pleading for wrongdoers.’

  ‘I want the people to call you their merciful king. There is nothing so appealing as a man with power who shows mercy. That is a sign of greatness.’

  Edward was silent and at that moment the door opened and Isabella came in.

  ‘Oh it is wonderful. You are home. Both of you. We are all so happy,’ she cried.

  The King’s mood softened at the sight of his daughter. He said: ‘And think you that I am not happy to be with my family?’

  ‘You have done nothing but glower ever since you came,’ scolded Isabella. ‘Oh, dearest father, do not harm the Constable. He is such an amusing fellow.’

  ‘He does not amuse me.’

  ‘He has told us of his mistress. She is very beautiful ... and ardent, and a little light so that if he does not visit her she might find another lover. And he asked my permission to visit her and I gave it ... so you see, dearest Father, you cannot blame him.’

  ‘You gave it.’

  ‘I was the mistress of the Tower was I not, in your absence? I said to him: “Go to this ardent mistress of yours, Constable,” and of course when he had gone I told the guards they could go too. That was all it was, Father. And they are saying that you are going to do terrible things to him. Oh please let him go free. You see if you do not I shall be unhappy and it is all my fault and I shall never smile again.’

  ‘You are a foolish girl,’ said the King.

  Isabella put her arms about his neck. ‘But you love me just the same. In spite of my folly. Oh, you do, don’t you, because if you don’t I shall ... die.’

  ‘What shall we do with this daughter of ours?’ asked the King.

  ‘I think on this occasion you will give her what she asks,’ replied the Queen.

  ‘Well,’ said the King, ‘if I say that the Constable shall go free will that please you?’

  Isabella kissed him fervently. ‘You are the best father in the world and I love you dearly.’

  ‘But,’ said the King, ‘not today. He shall fret and sweat in his terror all through the night.’

  ‘But in the morning he shall be free,’ cried Isabella. ‘Oh, you dear good King. And we shall all be together for Christmas shall we not? I have planned such games.’

  Philippa noticed that the King’s ill humour had completely disappeared.

  ‘Let us join Edward and Joanna,’ she said, ‘and hear all about these plans.’

  Thus the Constable of the Tower resumed his duties and marvelled at the leniency of the King while he vowed that never would he be so foolish again and would serve Edward and his family with his life if need be.

  THE KING FALLS IN LOVE

  THAT there was change in the air was apparent throughout Château Gaillard where the King and Queen of Scotland lived as guests of the King of France.

  The most unhappy person in that castle of Normandy was the Queen—Joanna, sister of Edward King of England. She had always been disturbed by the conflict between her husband and her brother and now that Edward was engaged in a struggle with the King of France it grieved her that David should side with her brother’s enemy and had even gone into battle with the French against the English.

  She had heard the sad story of her namesake’s adventures in Austria. Poor child, she could understand and sympathize with her for being taken from her country at a tender age. Had it not happened to her? Perhaps people with the name Joanna were unfortunate. She could almost make herself believe that the name itself brought bad luck.

  She certainly had had very little good luck.

  She hoped her sister Eleanor was happier with the Earl of Gueldres than she was as the guest of the King of France.

  She was almost nineteen years old now and David was sixteen, not too young to have had love affairs with some of the women in the castle. They had never really liked each other although she had tried to make a show of affection for him. He was a petulant boy and arrogant. He was constantly reminding people that he was a king, as though, because he was an exile from his country, they might forget it.

  Being the son of the greatest King Scotland had ever known was a handicap. People constantly compared him with his father and naturally he must suffer in comparison. David was aware of it and it bothered him; he liked to taunt Joanna with remarks about her own father who was as different from Robert the Bruce as a man could be. Poor Father, who had died mysteriously and she feared ignobly in Berkeley Castle.

  But that King’s son and her brother now reigned and he was a source of great irritation to David. Sometimes she fancied he flaunted his infideli
ty more before her because she was the sister of Edward of England.

  It was as though he said. I shall do as I please. What care I for your noble brother about whom men are now beginning to talk as they did about your grandfather.

  David enjoyed the life at Château Gaillard. There was dancing and jesting, plays and feasting. The King of France had said: You must look upon me as your friend and France as your home.’

  And David had done so; not so Joanna. She could never forget that their host was the enemy of her brother and she was ashamed of accepting his hospitality.

  Visitors from afar had come to the castle. The news they brought was exciting. The Scots had naturally taken advantage of Edward’s absence in France. They had risen and there had been none to stop them, certainly not the token force Edward had left with them. They had ousted Baliol who was no more than Edward’s tool. He had quickly left Scotland and had sought a refuge in England.

  An embassy arrived at the Château Gaillard, led by Simon Fraser who had been David’s tutor and in whom he had had great confidence.

  That was an exciting day at the château for Simon laid before the exiled King plans for his return to Scotland. For the last year or so the Scots had been scoring victory after victory over the English. The absence of Edward in France had been a boon to them, and he had to admit that they had enjoyed a great deal of help from the King of France who was pleased that the English should be harried on the Scottish Border so diverting them from their activities in France. Now the Bruce party had succeeded in ridding themselves of Edward’s puppet Baliol and therefore it was time David returned to take up his rightful place in the kingdom.

  David was excited at the prospect. Life at Château Gaillard had been pleasant enough, but he was a king and wanted to rule his country. He could not forget that, even though the King of France had treated him as a visiting King, he was still dependent on his bounty.

  ‘When can I leave for Scotland?’ he asked Simon Fraser. Simon replied that he thought it would be advisable to visit the Court of France, make the King aware of his subjects’ request for him to return and ask his help in doing so.