EDWARD, ARE YOU GOING TO LET THIS GO ON? THE MAN HAS TURNED PIRATE! He is a menace to England's sea trade, and you know it.”
The king, riding away from Canterbury with his queen and Eleanor on a fine day in October, shrugged. “You forget, my dear, that Hugh is an exile. He is not within England's borders, and I have no control over him.”
“Lady Despenser, are you pleased to be the wife of such an illustrious pirate?”
Edward started to defend his niece, but Eleanor from her litter said coolly, “I do not approve of Hugh's actions, but as he was turned out of his own country with nothing to live upon but his own wits, I cannot blame him overmuch.”
“In any case, he has been most successful at it,” said the king cheerfully. “Two ships seized already, with cargoes worth thousands of pounds! Hugh never was one to do things by halves.”
Edward had been unusually cheerful lately, and unusually busy. He had suddenly ordered Bartholomew Badlesmere, his faithless steward, to give up custody of Tonbridge Castle—the same castle that Hugh had seized in his pique over the Countess of Gloucester's false pregnancy—and Badlesmere had refused. Badlesmere had also gone into Kent, against royal orders, and after a trip to Canterbury himself had traveled to Oxford. There the Marcher lords had assembled, ostensibly to attend a tournament, in reality to be within striking distance of the king should he foolishly try to recall the Despensers. Edward had responded to Badlesmere's acts by sending knights to secure Dover Castle. Now he had suddenly got it into his head to go to Canterbury, and with him had come the queen and Eleanor.
Eleanor had been invited by each of Hugh's sisters to spend his exile with them, but the king had wanted her to stay with him at court. In her anger over Hugh's banishment, she took a certain pleasure in sitting at the high table beside her uncle each night, knowing that her very presence there, big with Hugh's child, was irksome to Hugh's enemies. This state of mind, as well as the news that had been circulating about Hugh's new career, had made her feel very much of a sinner as she knelt beside Becket's tomb. She said abruptly, “But it is very wrong of Hugh. He must make amends somehow.”
“You can tell that to his face, my dear niece.”
Eleanor started up in her litter, where she had been stretching out as languidly as one could in the jouncing vehicle. “We are to see Hugh?”
“We are?” asked the queen.
“I have arranged to meet Hugh on Thanet Island. Eleanor, naturally, will want to go with me.” Eleanor nodded vigorously. “Isabella, I think it best that you return to London. I doubt that Hugh will be able to receive you on Thanet in the manner in which you are accustomed.”
“Very well,” said Isabella. “I should not like to be entertained by Hugh's accomplices in piracy.”
“I would like you to break your journey at Leeds Castle. You miss nothing, and will be able to tell me how well Badlesmere has it fortified.”
Isabella nodded graciously.
Hugh had found a large, comfortable house near the village of St. Peter's, so close to the sea that by walking only a few feet to a waiting boat, he could be out of England and therefore not in violation of his terms of exile. He came to the door himself to greet the royal party, and as soon as Eleanor saw him, her dismay about his new livelihood melted. She flung her arms around his neck as he bent to help her from the chariot, and he pulled her as close as he could to him, her belly being in the way.
“Did you enjoy the pilgrimage, my love?”
“Very much,” said Eleanor. She thought of that earlier pilgrimage she and Hugh had made there, at a time when they had had so little to concern them, and fell silent.
Hugh, however, had turned to the king and was giving him a manly embrace. “How is the queen?”
“She is well,” said Edward. “She is headed to London, and will be stopping at Leeds Castle.” He gave Hugh a knowing look that puzzled Eleanor.
The weather being fine, and the king having never lost his scandalous predilection for swimming, he proposed that he and Hugh go into the water. Hugh most reluctantly agreed, and after a few minutes of paddling about arrived cloaked and shivering in the house's modest hall, where Eleanor, Hugh's cook, and the king's cook were consulting as to the evening's menu. Edward came in about a half hour later, glowing. “That was splendid! Hugh, if you had stayed longer, you would have warmed up beautifully.”
Hugh grinned. “That's what a fire is for, your grace.”
After a meal of fish, combined with a wine so exotically delicious that Eleanor suspected that it must have come from the spoils of Hugh's piracy, the trio of Edward, Hugh, and Eleanor retreated to the room Hugh had designated as the king's chamber. The night having turned crisp, they lounged by the fire, Eleanor leaning cozily on Hugh, the king with an avuncular arm draped around his nephew by marriage. It was not a setting conducive to worry, but one concern nagged at Eleanor. “I do not understand. Bartholomew Badlesmere still has control over Leeds Castle, does he not? What if he refuses to admit the queen?”
“He won't be there; that shrewish wife of his and Walter Culpeper are holding it while he and the Marchers tilt and plot in Oxford. But you are right; they may well refuse the queen, either on their lord's orders or just out of sheer contrariness. That is what we hope.”
Eleanor stared. “Hugh? You want the queen to be refused entry?”
“Ingenious, isn't it?” The king beamed. “It's Hugh's idea. Isabella won't take such a refusal lightly—after all, Leeds is her castle by rights. She will be outraged. She will complain to me, and I will avenge this ill behavior by besieging Leeds Castle. All of England will be indignant on my queen's behalf. Badlesmere will be utterly isolated.”
“Lancaster has long disliked Badlesmere; he thought that he had no right to be appointed steward without Lancaster's consent because Lancaster claimed to be the hereditary steward of England.” Hugh chuckled. “So Lancaster is unlikely to come to his aid. And as for the Marcher lords, who among them will want to fight against the queen?”
Eleanor's head swam. “So with all the advantage on our side, we seize Badlesmere,” the king concluded cheerfully.
It seemed a very unlikely outcome to Eleanor. Who would be fool enough to deny the queen entry to her own castle? The very next day, she had her answer: Lady Badlesmere.
After being turned away, Isabella had gone to the royal castle at Rochester, minus nine of her men, who had been killed in the clash with Badlesmere's garrison. Edward and Eleanor promptly joined her. Hugh, knowing that his presence would be ruinous to a scheme that was going to plan, put back out to sea.
In mid-October, the king sent Pembroke, the Earl of Richmond, and the Earl of Norfolk—the latter being his much younger brother Thomas—to begin besieging Leeds Castle. Badlesmere succeeded in persuading Hereford and the two Roger Mortimers, uncle and nephew, to aid him, but Lancaster not only refused his aid, as predicted by Hugh, but persuaded Hereford and the Mortimers to withdraw theirs. Pembroke, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Bishop of London had been sent to Kingston to negotiate with Hereford and the Mortimers, but their desertion of Badlesmere's cause left the king, now at Leeds, with no need to negotiate with his enemies. He was even able to send for his hunting dogs to pass the time as the siege progressed. There turned out to be little time for hunting, though. On October 31, 1321, soon after the king's arrival, Leeds Castle fell. Badlesmere's wife and children were sent to the Tower and a half dozen members of the garrison were summarily hanged. Badlesmere himself, far from the castle, fled north.
Lady Hastings frowned at Eleanor's lying-in chamber in Canterbury Castle. “How cheerless, my dear!”
“I had to leave most of my goods behind me when I left Hanley, Bella, and it was too dangerous to send for anything afterward. And, of course, Hugh's enemies still have possession of many of our lands, even though they were to be taken into the king's hands.”
“Well, I had suspected as much, and I have brought some lovely tapestries for you to hang.”
; “It is so sweet of you, Bella. Thank you.”
“I hoped they would cheer you, for I know you must be frightened. With Hugh gone, and what happened the last time you were with child—”
Eleanor winced and nodded. “I must say that I am. After all that has happened in the past year… But things are looking brighter. You know, of course, that Hugh and your father have petitioned the king to annul their exiles? That means they must be in communication again with each other; it was so sad to have them estranged. The king showed me Hugh's petition before I came down here to stay; it was truly eloquent. So was your father's.”
“I had not seen them, but I know the king's council—though not exactly a full council, since only four of the bishops on the council were there—have agreed to their return. But Lancaster has sent his own petition, along with the Earl of Lancaster and Roger Mortimer of Wigmore. They accused the king of maintaining my brother and aiding him in his piracy! Then—you will not believe the effrontery, Nelly—they set a deadline for the king to answer their grievances. As if he were their subject!”
“I had not heard of that, but I know the king is on his way to Cirencester now, with an army.”
“I hope John de Hastings will join them. He did nothing to hinder the Marchers in Wales out of fear, but has told me he wishes to make his peace with the king over Christmas.” John de Hastings, the Earl of Pembroke's nephew, was also Bella's stepson by her second husband, though stepmother and stepson were about the same age. She added wryly, “I can only hope he keeps his word. It is not as if I can send him to bed without supper if he disobeys.”
Eleanor sighed. “I am sorry things have reached this pass, but I do think this exile was horribly unjust. I only hope that when Hugh is back, life will be more peaceful for everyone. But Bella, how I miss him! I should be angry with him that he turned pirate, I know, but I can only think of how much I miss him.”
“Has he sneaked ashore lately?”
Eleanor shook her head wistfully. “I have not seen him since the business with Leeds Castle. That is why I asked the king to let me stay here in Canterbury, instead of in the Tower with the queen, for hopes that he might come. I wanted to go to Thanet Island, where it would be easier for him to do so, but the king and Hugh wanted me in one of the royal castles in case there was any trouble. But enough of me. Do you hear from your father?”
“I have had several letters. I am not sure he wants to come back from exile! He has grown spoiled by having the wines of Bordeaux so near at hand, he tells me. I just hope he doesn't come home with a little French bride half my age. Imagine having a stepmother at my time of life!”
Eleanor laughed more lightheartedly than she had in months. “You are a fine one to talk, Bella!”
“May I hold him, Mama?”
“If you are very careful, Isabel.”
Isabel took Gilbert le Despenser from Eleanor's arms and cautiously cradled him in hers, while Edward, Joan, and Nora pressed closer to see. “He looks like a piglet,” said Joan.
“All new babies do,” said Edward in a bored voice, though he was itching to hold his brother himself.
“Well, I didn't,” said Joan.
“Yes, you did!”
“Did not!”
Nora sucked her thumb, as she had been wont to do ever since Hugh went away. “Stop fighting,” she said sternly.
“I'll second that.”
“Papa!”
“Hugh!”
Hugh strode into the room, grinning. Tactfully, he greeted his daughters and Edward—his eldest son was still in the king's household—with hugs and kisses before he frowned as if just remembering something. “They told me at the gatehouse you had a brother. Is that true?”
“Here he is, Papa!” Isabel thrust Gilbert in his father's arms.
“Oh?” Hugh eyed Gilbert critically. “Well, I guess he'll do.”
“Papa!”
“Oh, he's handsome enough,” Hugh conceded. He kissed Gilbert on the forehead. “Now will you let me have a word with Mama? And then we will all sit together for a while before bedtime.”
“Yes, Papa!”
Hugh admired his new son a bit longer, then gently laid him in the nearby cradle. He climbed into the bed next to Eleanor and wrapped his arms around her. “A fine boy. Didn't I tell you we would be blessed again with a healthy child?”
“Yes, you did, Hugh, and I am so happy and thankful.”
“So am I, sweetheart.”
They lay quietly together for a while. “I saw Bella on the way in here. She said that you had had an easy labor. Was she just sparing me?”
“No, Hugh. It was easy, and quite fast. Nothing like—” She crossed herself. “It was all that I had prayed for, and now that you are here, all my prayers have been answered.”
“I cannot stay long, sweetheart, as much as I would like to. The king has given me a safe conduct, I hear, but that's not worth a great deal when ruffians like the Mortimers and Lancaster are still about. But I did want to see you and the children—and I have some money for the king. It came from a source we need not discuss.”
“Hugh, I hope there is to be no more money from that source.”
“No, I am quite ready to settle down to the straight and narrow. I think I shall go to my father in France and make a complete peace with him. Soon the time will be right for us to rejoin the king, and we need to be working together when that time comes.”
“Will that be a long time, you think, Hugh? I have missed you so, and worried so much about you.”
“I think it will be very soon. The king is planning a surprise for the Marchers; he wasn't the Prince of Wales for naught. But no more about this now. Let's call the children back and have a pleasant evening, shall we?”
Hugh had visited Eleanor in late December of 1321. By the end of the year, the royal forces and those of the Marcher lords were clashing along the Severn. Hereford and the Mortimers, determined to prevent the king from crossing the river into Wales, burned the town of Bridgnorth, where a royal force led by Fulk FitzWarren was attempting to repair the bridge there. Undaunted, the king's forces crossed at Shrewsbury. Meanwhile, the surprise Hugh had spoken of took place. Welsh troops, led by Sir Gruffydd Llwyd, began attacking the Mortimers' lands in the north of Wales, including Chirk, along with lands belonging to Hereford and Lancaster. The Mortimers' troops, many of whom had been coerced into serving, began deserting, while Hereford took his men to Gloucester, sacking the Despenser castles of Elmley and Hanley on the way. Lancaster, occupied with besieging Tickhill Castle in the north of England, refused to send any aid to the Mortimers, ostensibly on the ground that Badlesmere was with them. Isolated, the Mortimers surrendered to the king on January 22, 1322. In the middle of February, they were imprisoned in the Tower. The queen, watching from a window as they arrived, barely glanced at the elder Mortimer, a man well into his sixties, but her gaze lingered for a long time on Roger Mortimer of Wigmore. He was, she thought, an undeniably handsome man.
Before the Mortimers' arrival in London, however, the king had moved to Gloucester, where he received two more surrenders, those of Audley's father and Maurice de Berkeley, and encouraged others to follow their example. Hereford and the king's former friends, Audley and Damory, hastened north to join Lancaster. Theirs were not the only troops moving around the north. As Edward sat in the great hall at Gloucester Castle, cheerful from having received the surrenders, Sir Andrew de Harclay, a lord from Carlisle, hurried in. Dropping to one knee, he exclaimed, “Your grace! You must know that the Scots are afoot again in the north. They are back to their old tricks, looting, pillaging, and burning.”
“Aye,” said Edward dispassionately. “The treaty has expired; I would have expected as much.”
“Your grace, cannot we march against them immediately?”
Edward shook his head. “By and by, but not now.”
“But sir—”
“Lord Harclay, you have done well in bringing this news to me, and I thank you. I wish all of
the other barons were loyal and faithful like you. But they are not, and I must deal with that first. If Robert Bruce threatened me from behind, and those of my own men who have committed such enormities against me should appear in front, I would attack the traitors and leave Bruce alone. I shall pursue these traitors, and I shall not turn back until they are brought to naught!” He added, “Go back to your lands. I shall have important work for you to do soon.”
Harclay obeyed. Edward, having ordered Lancaster not to receive the rebel Marcher lords, and having received an unsatisfactory reply, ordered that troops be raised to join him at Coventry. Among those who received the orders were the Despensers. By early March, in Lichfield, the Despensers were sitting in the king's tent. With them, setting up camp outside, were the Despensers' own ample troops, raised with the help of their allies in the Midlands and Wales. Eleanor, from her station at Canterbury, had sent some of the necessary messages, just as the queen from her station in the Tower had sent messages on behalf of the king.
Hugh had not found it as difficult to win his father back to his side as he had thought. Though the older man still held the younger responsible for their joint exile, and had been angry—and not a little chagrined—to learn that his son was making his living by piracy, he, like Eleanor, had a hard time staying angry at Hugh, particularly when his son was braving the winter gales in the English Channel. “Never mind,” he'd told Hugh when he arrived at the chateau in Bordeaux that the elder Hugh had rented for his own comfortable exile. The younger man had gone so far as to bend his knee to his father and ask him for his forgiveness. “Never mind,” he'd repeated, impatiently pulling him up and embracing him. “We'll work together, from now and evermore.”
“There is much news to tell you,” Edward said, his fond gaze wandering from father to son, but especially on the son. Tonight, after dark, Hugh could at last visit him alone… He shook his mind back to the present.
“I heard a rumor that Kenilworth had surrendered,” said the elder Hugh. Kenilworth was one of the Earl of Lancaster's grandest castles.
The Traitor's Wife Page 24
