The Follies of the King

by Виктория Холт

‘And do you want to stay a child forever?’

  She was thoughtful. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Not now. Besides it would be no use, would it? I dare swear one day I shall have to go away. Margaret will go first because she is the eldest.’

  ‘Boys are more fortunate, especially heirs to crowns. They do not have to leave their countries.’

  ‘No. You will stay in England and your bride will come to you. But she will have to leave her home of course. She will not mind that, though.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I know she won’t mind once she sees you.’

  ‘Philippa, would you mind?’

  She shook her head. ‘No,’ she said, ‘I should be glad.’

  Then she feared she had said too much for his eyes had taken on a deeper shade of blue and he was smiling.

  It seemed as though there was a sudden silence in the forest. Then Philippa said: ‘You will be a King and a King of England. They will have to find you a very grand princess to be your Queen.’

  His mouth was firm and his shining eyes rested on her as he said: ‘I shall choose my own.’

  Philippa was a little afraid. Instinct warned her that she should not be alone here with the Prince. Her mother would say it was wrong for her to allow herself to be led away. She had always obeyed her mother.

  Instinctively she turned away, urging her horse forward. Edward walked his horse beside her and soon they were out of the clearing.

  Before they returned to the castle they had joined the rest of the party.

  * * *

  The Queen knew that she could not stay too long even when offered such hospitality. The Count and Countess treated her like an honoured guest and Sir John hovered adoringly, but, as she said to Mortimer, they must move on.

  However, she had a notion that coming to Hainault was going to prove one of the best courses they could have taken. She was going to speak to the Count of her predicament but first she would confer with Sir John. Sir John was only too delighted to enjoy a tête-á-tête with her, and posing as the pathetic lady in distress— which was the role in which he liked her best, she fancied she gave him a long account of her sufferings during her life with Edward and how it had come to the point when she could endure it no longer. He turned pale with horror when she mentioned the fear she had of the wicked Despensers and how she believed that if she set foot in England that would be an end of her.

  ‘You must not go back without adequate protection,’ he declared.

  ‘You are right of course, my dear good friend, but how can I find that protection?’

  ‘I will go with you.’

  ‘You are so good to me, but one man alone, however valiant, could not save me.’

  ‘I shall not go alone. I shall take an army with me.’

  Isabella’s heart leaped in triumph. ‘You would do that?’

  ‘It would be my joy and my privilege.’

  ‘An army―’ she began.

  ‘Yes, an army to join your own. We would march on Westminster and force the King to offer up those despicable men. I shall not rest until we have their heads for I see that you will be unsafe while they live.’

  ‘I cannot believe anyone could be so good to me as you are.’

  ‘You will see,’ he promised. ‘You will see.’

  ‘Do you realize, my dear Sir John, that this means going to a foreign country and fighting someone’s else’s cause?’

  ‘It is fighting your cause, my dear lady, and I ask nothing better than that.’

  ‘You would have to have your brother’s consent.’

  ‘Fear not, I shall speak to him.’

  Her heart sank. This was a romantic young man. His brother, the more mature Count who controlled Sir John and his armies, might not consent.

  ‘Do you think he will agree?’

  ‘I shall beg and implore him and continue to do so until he becomes so weary of my importunings that he will be glad to be rid of me.’

  ‘Oh how I thank God for throwing me into your path.’

  He kissed her hand. He would go at once to his brother, he said, and tell him that he proposed to go to England with her in order to set her son on the throne and depose that Edward who had lost the confidence of his people― and most heinous sin of all had ill-treated the most wonderful woman in the world.

  * * *

  While he was sympathetic, the Count was far from enthusiastic at the project.

  ‘My dear brother,’ he said, ‘you are proposing to go into a foreign country and embark on a war which is really no concern of yours.’

  ‘The fact that Edward of England has ill-treated a lady is surely of concern to any knight.’

  ‘You are young and romantic,’ replied the Count. ‘That is not good politics.’

  ‘What would you suggest I do?’

  ‘Escort the lady to the coast. Wish her well. Offer her friendship but not an army.’

  ‘I could not do that.’

  ‘You cannot involve Hainault in English affairs.’

  ‘It is not a matter of politics. It is one of chivalry.’

  ‘Oh, brother, I fancy the Queen of England is a very astute lady. She will know how to look after herself. No, I cannot give you permission to take an army to England.’

  ‘ I should raise that army. It would be my responsibility.’

  ‘You are my brother, remember. No, I could not give my consent.’

  Sir John’s lips were stubborn. For the first time there was a coolness between him and his brother. The Count thought: If I do not give my consent, he will act without it. That much is certain.

  Isabella, knowing that the interview had taken place, was eager to know the result. She waylaid Sir John and was immediately struck by his dismal looks.

  ‘You have spoken to your brother?’ she asked anxiously.

  Sir John nodded gloomily. ‘He is against it. Oh, believe me, he has the utmost sympathy for your predicament. He would do a great deal to help you―’

  ‘But his generosity would stop at sending an army.’

  ‘That is what he says. But I do not despair. I shall persuade him―’

  ‘And if he will not agree―’

  He kissed her hand. ‘I should never desert you,’ he answered.

  Isabella sought an opportunity of talking to the Count alone, but she did not mention the fact that his brother had spoken to him.

  She said: ‘It has been a great pleasure to rest awhile under your roof, Count, and do you know what has pleased me as much as anything? It is to see the friendship which has sprung up between our children. Edward is quite enchanted by your delightful daughters and I fancy they are not displeased with him.’

  The Count was alert. He had a great respect for Isabella’s strategies. ‘He is a charming boy. Handsome, tall, strong and of noble character. That much is clear.’

  ‘It is gratifying,’ she answered, ‘to perceive these qualities in the heir to a great crown.’

  ‘He is indeed kingly in his bearing.’

  ‘I am eager that he should make a good marriage,’ went on the Queen, ‘and by that I mean a happy one. I shall never forget my own arrival in a strange country and what was revealed to me when I came.’ She shuddered. ‘I want Edward to have a little choice when it comes to his marrying. I would like him to have met his bride first and found that he was fond of her before the ceremony.’

  The Count’s heart had begun to beat fast. Was she suggesting one of his daughters might be Queen of England? It was a dazzling prospect. He and Jeanne wanted good marriages for their girls but happy ones at the same time and it was clear that all four girls were already a little enamoured of the handsome Edward.

  He came straight to the point: ‘My lady, do you mean that you would consider one of my daughters as a bride for your son?’

  ‘That was what was in my mind,’ answered Isabella. ‘I believe you would consider it a worthy match.’

  ‘I will not pretend, my lady, that I should not have thought of looking so
high. I have heard however that the King of England is in progress of arranging a match for the Prince with Aragon.’

  ‘What the King arranges will be of no moment when justice is done. It is I who will decide whom my son shall marry. When I take an army to England my aim will be to remove the villain Despensers from the King and if he protests, then it will be my duty to my son and to England to transfer the crown from the worthless father to the worthy son. Oh rest assured, my lord Count, it will not be Edward, at present King of England, who will decide whom my son shall marry.

  I shall do that. My son will listen to me, not his father; and if the lady is one of his choice― believe me, there will be no difficulty.’

  ‘I confess,’ said the Count, ‘that your suggestion has taken me by surprise.’

  The Queen bowed her head. Indeed it must have done. The future King of England to marry the daughter of a Count of Hainault! But anything― anything for an army.

  ‘I should like to discuss this with the Countess,’ went on the Count. ‘She has always been most concerned about our girls’ future.’

  ‘Do so,’ said Isabella. ‘But remember that this happy state of affairs could only come about if I were successful in ridding the country of the Despensers.’

  She did not add: And by deposing the King and setting my son on the throne.

  But that was what she meant.

  The Count hurried to his wife and they discussed the matter long into the night.

  ‘There would never be such another opportunity,’ said the Count.

  The Countess agreed. ‘Moreover,’ she added, ‘the girls are all of them already enamoured of Edward. He is a most attractive boy. I confess I should be very proud for him to become our son-in-law. And then― the crown of England.’

  ‘What if the Queen’s attempts to depose the King should fail?’

  ‘If she had enough men to go against him why should she fail? You know how matters stand in England. Our friend there tell us that people are turning against the King every day.’

  ‘Yes, but they are really against the Despensers. If he sent them away―’

  ‘He never will. The weaker he grows the more he relies on them.’

  ‘But to be involved in a war against England― for that what it amounts to!’

  The Countess was astute. ‘There is a way,’ she said. ‘You could provide the army without being personally involved.’

  ‘How so?’

  The Queen of England wishes her son to marry one of our girls. We agree to this. You will provide the dowry which will be enough for the Queen to raise an army among our people. Then― if aught should go wrong you have merely supplied a dowry not an army.’

  The Count looked at his wife with admiration.

  ‘It is the answer,’ he said. They were silent for a while, both thinking how glorious it would be on the day when one of the girls became the Queen of England.

  ‘It must be Margaret,’ said the Countess firmly. ‘She is the eldest and it is fitting that she should be the first to be married.’

  ‘It shall be as you say,’ replied the Count.

  * * *

  Isabella and Mortimer were overjoyed. The opportunity had come at last.

  ‘Oh what a blessing,’ cried Isabella, ‘that the Count of Hainault has four marriageable daughters!’

  Sir John was ecstatically happy because the matter had been so cleverly arranged, and immediately set about getting army together.

  The fact that the dowry provided by the Count enabled this to be paid for was not mentioned and neither Edward nor the girls realized that marriage had been discussed.

  They carried on meeting frequently and often Philippa and Edward managed to slip away undetected when they were riding with a party.

  He told her a great deal about his youth and that there was trouble at home now because of a conflict between his father and mother. Philippa was most sympathetic. She could imagine how distressing that must be. He said he would like to show her England and that when he went home and all the trouble was over he would insist on her coming there. He would enjoy showing her his country.

  ‘You will be King of it one day,’ she said, her blue eyes wide with a kind of wondering admiration.

  ‘I shall have to wait until my father dies. I mean to be a great King, Philippa.

  I am going to be like my grandfather―’

  He stopped, remembering that he was repeating what had been said to him so often and that it was disloyal towards his father. Philippa immediately understood. She and her sisters had become very interested in England since Edward and his mother had come to Hainault and they asked a great many questions about England. They had gleaned that there was something unusual about the King of England but they did not know what.

  ‘He is not like your father,’ the Countess had said firmly and left it at that; but she had implied that there must be something very wrong with someone who was so emphatically not like their father.

  With Sir John’s exuberance and the determination of the Queen and Roger de Mortimer the army was ready in a very short time.

  The day came when they must leave.

  The four girls, all saddened by the departure of the young Prince, stood beside their mother as the Queen took a fond farewell of them and said that she would never, never forget the kindness she had received from the Count and her dear cousin in her hour of need. She embraced the girls and at last it was Edward’s turn.

  He stood before them, startlingly handsome, looking as some noted; already a king.

  He took leave of the Count and Countess and then turned to the rosy- cheeked girls.

  He was telling them how much he had enjoyed his stay with them, how he would never forget their kindness, when he saw that the tears in Philippa’s eyes had started to flow down her cheeks; and then suddenly before she could stop herself she was, sobbing bitterly.

  The Prince went to her and laid his hands on her shoulders.

  ‘Do not weep, little Philippa,’ he said, but she had covered her face with her hands. Then he said: ‘Look at me.’

  She lowered her hands and he said: ‘We shall meet again. I promise you.’

  The Countess had laid her arm about her daughter’s shoulders while the Queen thought how informal they were in Hainault. She was glad that Philippa had been so overcome. It was most affecting.

  But she was eager to be away.

  She had her armies― two of them― the English contingent led by Mortimer and the men of Hainault by Sir John. She was all set for conquest.

  THE QUEEN’S TRIUMPH

  THE Queen and her armies had arrived at Dort where they embarked on the ships which were waiting for them.

  With Mortimer beside her the Queen watched the loading of the ships; the wind caught her hair and with the bush of triumph in her cheeks she had never seemed so beautiful.

  ‘Gentle Mortimer,’ she said, ‘I have a feeling that God is with us this day.

  So much for which I have longed has come to pass. Thank God for Edward who shortly will be our King.’

  ‘And whose betrothal to one of the giggling Flemish girls has given us our armies.’

  ‘Forget not, dear Mortimer, that one day one of those girls will be the Queen of England.’

  ‘You are the cleverest woman on earth as well as the most beautiful.’

  ‘And you are the wisest man on earth, Mortimer, for joining with me.’

  Mortimer left her to supervise his army. The Prince was with him and Sir John was similarly engaged.

  Soon they were sailing away and the coast of Holland was lost from sight.

  Alas, a storm arose and some of the ships were badly battered. Then the Queen was terrified that the elements were going to destroy all her well-laid plans. She prayed to God not to desert her now. For hours the storm raged delaying their journey— there were moments when she believed this was the end. But her joy was overwhelming when she at last beheld the coast of England and she went on deck and looked abou
t her. She saw at once that many of the ships had suffered considerable damage, and some of them had actually been smashed to pieces by the fearful tempest. It now remained to get ashore and assess the damage in detail.

  It was noon when she had glimpsed the coast but midnight before everything was brought ashore. Although some men and arms had been lost a considerable force remained. Her knights and attendants made a tent for her from carpets and they lighted a fire for her to warm herself. The wind was strong and it was an uncomfortable night but she was relieved to hear from Mortimer and Sir John that the damage and loss had been less than they had at first feared.

  As soon as day broke they were anxious to move from the windy shore and in a short time they were in the town of Harwich where Isabella’s brother-in-law, Edward’s half-brother Thomas of Brotherton, came to greet her.

  She had always been on very friendly terms with Edward’s half-brothers, Edmund of Kent and Thomas of Brotheron; their French mother, Edward the First’s second wife Marguerite, was of course closely related to Isabella.

  Marguerite had brought up her boys to observe certain French customs and this meant that there had been an immediate rapport between them and Isabella.

  At times like this that was very apparent and it was fortunate for her that they were more ready to be on her side than on Edward’s. Moreover, like so many people in England they were with anyone who was against the Despensers.

  The news of her arrival spread through the countryside, She was the wronged wife of a pervert King, it was said; she had flown from England out of fear of the wicked Despensers who had bewitched the King even as Gaveston― of evil repute― had done. They rallied to her banner; not only the common people but the barons who had for a long time been determined to take the first opportunity of getting rid of the King’s favourite.

  Adam of Orlton, Bishop of Hereford, who had done so much to help Roger de Mortimer escape the Tower, was overjoyed when he heard of the arrival of the Queen and her army. He had been living uneasily in England, protected only by his calling; and he knew that if the King and his friends ever had a chance of taking revenge on him they would seize it, Now that the Queen had arrived with her army that chance even receded even farther.