by Griff Hosker
My heart sank. He had not changed. “Then you will still oppose the King’s choice of bishops and priests?”
He nodded, “I will go further. I have this day sent letters of excommunication to Roger de Pont L'Évêque, the archbishop of York, along with Gilbert Foliot, the Bishop of London, and Josceline de Bohon, the Bishop of Salisbury who were the three men who had crowned young Henry. They exceeded their authority when they crowned young Henry.”
I could not believe my ears. “I thought you would have been happy about the coronation! You want young Henry to be King.”
He smiled, “And I will be the one to crown him when he will be sole King of England.” Simon returned, “And now I will leave you. Brother Cedric tells me that you cannot travel for a few days. You and your squire are more than welcome to stay here. I believe that you are a good man and that contrasts with our King. You are misguided in your blind devotion to a corrupt King but I admire your loyalty.”
He left us. When we were alone I said, “Fetch me parchment, quill and ink. I have a letter to write.”
Thomas Becket was, effectively declaring war on King Henry. The three priests who were to be excommunicated were the most senior clerics after the Archbishop of Canterbury. It would mean the King would have no say at all in the life of the church. The Archbishop and the Pope would make all the appointments and the church, wealthy as it was, would become an enemy within. What I could not see was the reason for this. Why had Becket returned now?
When Simon returned I wrote. I told him the gist of the Archbishop’s words. My written words would tell the bare bones: the excommunication. I gave Simon my innermost thoughts which were for the King’s ears only.
When I had finished Simon said, “Lord when I went to the stables I spoke with the stable master. He told me that ten days since a French knight, three men at arms and a servant arrived. They stayed for two days and the knight spent most of that in conference with the Archbishop. I would have said nothing but now…”
“You are right Simon. That sounds like the men we met in ‘The Lamb’. What treacherous game is Becket playing?” I sealed the letter and handed it to Simon along with a purse. “Leave before dawn. When you reach Rochester ask for a change of horses and ride directly to the King. This letter must reach him sooner rather than later. Those five men are up to something. I fear assassination may be in their minds.”
I drank more of the ale and studied the fire. What was going on? Then it came to me; the Vexin. This was a way to keep Henry in England dealing with religious matters while King Louis attacked the Vexin. Becket was in the employ of the French King. It still did not tell me why he had five assassins in the land. Then I remembered the Archbishop’s words; ‘When I was tutor, briefly, to young Henry, I saw in him a future king who would understand the division between church and state.’ The killers were here to kill King Henry so that his young son would be sole ruler and he would be guided by King Louis’ spy. I cursed my wound. I was trapped here and could do nothing. I now saw why the four Frenchmen had headed to Windsor. It was not to kill Young King Henry, it was to pass a message to him.
Simon tried to leave quietly but my ailment and the thoughts which had kept me awake for most of the night meant I was awake.
“I am sorry lord. I meant not to disturb you.”
“Be safe Simon. The message must get through but beware. There is a plot here which is greater than any I have witnessed.”
“I will not let you down.”
And then I was left alone. For the rest of the day I just saw Brother Cedric, his priests and the servants who brought my food. I was left by myself for most of what passed for daylight in this dismal time of year. The hospital was like a prison. I was alone with my dark and brooding thoughts. I realised that the King did not have sons on whom he could rely. Geoffrey was weak. Richard just wished power so that he could make war and Henry wanted to be sole king. I had thought, when his mother and I had helped to put him on the throne that Henry’s worries were over. I was wrong. They had just begun.
The steaming herbs and spices seemed to have a beneficial effect. The poultice was changed regularly and Brother Cedric appeared happy with my progress. I found that I could walk. On the second morning, when I assumed King Henry would have heard my news, Brother Cedric suggested a visit to the cathedral to thank God for my recovery.
He smiled and spread his hands, “I merely carry out God’s will.”
I did not go to the church until late in the afternoon, towards evening. I sat, instead, before the fire. Brother Cedric had placed a bowl with the pleasant-smelling herbs and spices. I found that it made breathing much easier. I had conspiracies and plots racing around my head and I needed to make sense of them. Why had Becket come back now? I did not believe that the Pope had forced him back. Becket feared for his life. If he came back then he needed to be in England. He had excommunicated three men. He had to do that while in England. He was isolating the King. That was where I ran out of solutions. What could he gain by antagonising the King? He had fled for he had feared imprisonment or worse. He had been safe in France. The only conclusion I could reach was that he had been ordered back. The King of France needed him in England. I could reach no other conclusion than the one I had a day earlier. The knights were here to kill the King so that Young Henry, under the sway of Becket, could be crowned. I had thwarted that by warning the King. He was too clever to be caught by assassins. He could avoid hunting. Even though I felt I had done all there was a nagging doubt. The killers went towards Windsor. That was where his son hunted.
Servants brought my evening broth and fresh bread. There was even wine. After I had eaten and with darkness all around me I decided to do as Brother Cedric had suggested. I would visit the cathedral. Perhaps prayers to God might bring enlightenment. As I donned my cloak I heard hooves clattering on the cobbles before the cathedral. For a moment I wondered if Simon had returned. Brother Cedric was in his cell and when he heard me open the door of the hospital he came out.
“You are going to the cathedral?”
“Aye, you are right and I need to give thanks.”
“Then I will come with you. Take my arm.”
I did not like to but I knew that I was still weak. I saw four horses outside the mighty minster. They were not tied and they were lathered. Steam and sweat rose in the air like a mist. They had been ridden hard. Even the healer noticed. “Who has come so quickly that they abandon their horses?”
Then we heard the clash of steel on steel. I drew my sword. Brother Cedric said, “We should stay here, lord.”
“I am Earl Marshal. It is my duty to investigate this commotion.”
We found Gervase of Canterbury at the door with a wounded knight, Edward Grim. He was one of Becket’s men. Cedric knelt to tend to the wounded man and Gervase said to me, “Thank God you are here, Earl Marshal. Four knights have come and demanded that the Archbishop accompany them to Winchester. He refused. They retrieved their weapons and I fear they mean him harm.”
I ran down the aisle but I could see that I would be too late. By the light of the candles I saw Reginald FitzUrse, Hugh de Morville, William de Tracy and Richard le Breton. They had bloody weapons drawn. Even as I watched I saw that Becket was already wounded but Richard le Breton raised his sword and took the top of the Archbishop’s head. As he did he said, "Take that, for the love of my lord William, the king's brother!"
Hugh de Morville said, “Let us away, knights; this fellow will arise no more.”
They ran down the aisle. They had not seen me until then. I raised my arm, “Stop! I am Earl Marshal of England.”
They had weapons drawn. Richard le Breton and the others sheathed their swords when they recognised me. They pushed by me. I was too weak to stop them. “We have done our duty. The treacherous cleric is dead. You are still wounded, Earl, and we hold you in great esteem. We will not hurt you and, as we have sheathed our weapons you will not harm us.”
I tried to raise my sword but it
was too much and I could not. They rushed down the aisle and out of the cathedral. I sheathed my sword. I was an old cripple and I had let down my king. I walked to the altar. Whatever plans and motives Becket had had he did not deserve to be butchered like this. He had no weapon upon him. The four knights had behaved in the most appalling manner; they had no honour.
Brother Cedric joined me. He shook his head, “A most piteous sight.”
I looked towards the door, “The knight, he will live?”
“He will. You had best get back to your bed, lord. The exertions you have made and the night chills will have done you no good.”
He was right and I walked slowly down the aisles. Priests and the Archbishop’s knights raced through the church to witness for themselves the bloody deed. When I reached the cobbles, I saw that the four knights had gone. I was about to enter the hospital when I heard the sound of galloping hooves. Had they returned. I looked up and saw that it was Simon. He took one look at my face and, as he dismounted said, “I am too late then?”
“If you were here to warn me then aye you were but I could not have saved him. I am finished as a warrior, Simon. I could not even raise my arm.”
“But I could!” He shook his head, “Get inside, lord. I will stable my horse and then join you. I have much to tell you.”
Once inside I took off my cloak and poured myself another goblet of wine. I raised it in the direction of the cathedral, “Farewell Archbishop. I fear your plotting has been your undoing but you did not deserve such a death.”
Simon came in and took off his cloak. “I rode as fast as I could, lord.”
“Have some wine and sit. There is no rush. We cannot save Becket and the four knights are long gone.”
He did as I had asked. His skin looked almost blue from the cold. “I delivered the letter and spoke with the King. It was a full court, lord. The Prince and young King Henry were there with their knights. After he had read the letter I spoke quietly to him and told him of your suspicions. He was quiet for a moment and a rage took him. He stood and shouted, ‘What miserable drones and traitors have I nourished and promoted in my household, who let their lord be treated with such shameful contempt by a low-born clerk!’ There followed a most fearful commotion. Prince Richard and Young King Henry began to argue. I think they and their men would have drawn swords had not the King ordered his guards to separate them. Prince Richard’s men left the hall. I was heading out to the stable see to my weary horse when I saw them mounting their own. I heard one cry, ‘We will show the King that we are loyal men. We will avenge our lord, William, Viscount of Dieppe. We will take the snake and throw this rebellious priest into a cell!’ They galloped off. I told the King but he seemed distracted. It took me some time to find a fresh horse and I followed as soon as I could. I am sorry I was late.”
“If the King knew of the knights’ intentions, then he is to blame, not you.” I warmed my hands. I had not been out long but the cold seemed to seep into my bones. “This argument between Young King Henry and Richard, what was it about?”
“It was hard to follow, lord for they were both yelling at each other but I think the young King was supporting the Archbishop and Richard was saying that he should be publicly flogged.”
I sank back into my chair. The King had thought that by crowning Young Henry it was the solution to all of his problems. It had merely exacerbated them.
Outside we could hear the furore as the news of the murder spread. When all quietened down, Brother Cedric came in to the room. “I think, my lord, that it might be as well for you to leave early in the morning. Your association with the King has made some of those in the Cathedral suspicious.”
I flashed a look at the healer. Then I realised that he was trying to be kind. “Brother Cedric, thank you for your warning but I am Earl Marshal of England. I will not sneak away like a thief in the night. I had nothing to do with the murder.”
“I know lord but…”
“If you think that I am worried by a few knights who guard a church then you do not know me.”
“Lord, in the cathedral, you could not raise your sword.”
I smiled, “When I leave I shall be on horseback. I will not need to raise my sword.”
After he had gone Simon asked, “You could not raise your sword?”
“When we reach home, Simon, that will be the next part of my recuperation. We cannot have an Earl Marshal of England who cannot lift a sword eh?” The priest’s words had brought me from my depression. I would not be cowed. When I left I would ride with head held high.
Brother Cedric came before dawn with food. I think he thought that if we ate we might leave. I waited until the sun, or what passed for the sun on the cloud filled morning, was up. The walk to the stables was without any trouble for they were in the cathedral precincts. It was when we left the church and headed through the town that we might have trouble.
I leaned down to clasp Brother Cedric’s arm. “Thank you for what you did. I am in your debt.”
He smiled, “Lord we are all in your debt for you have saved England more times than enough. Go with God.”
We managed just four hundred paces before a surly looking fellow shouted, “There is one of the killers! He is one of King Henry’s murderers.”
I could have turned away but that was not my way. I spurred my horse towards the man. He had also thought that I would run. I reined in. “I am Alfraed, Earl of Cleveland and Earl Marshal of England. I have never murdered anyone in my life. You will apologise.”
“Or what?”
“Or I will get off my horse and I will punish you with my fists.”
A voice from the side said, “You needn’t bother my lord, we will deal with this troublemaker!” Three men stepped out of the inn. By their dress they were warriors, men at arms. I did not recognise them but it was likely that they had fought alongside me. “The Earl is a true knight. Let him pass or you will have us to deal with!”
When I turned I saw that the loud mouth had disappeared. I waved my thanks to the three men and we rode through the gates of the town. A mile or so from the gates Simon asked, “Would you have dismounted and fought him, lord?”
“He was a blowhard. If he had been dangerous there would have been a weapon close to hand. He was trying to make a name for himself.”
“Nonetheless, lord, I will be happier when we are back in London.”
The two-day ride back was without incident. When we stayed at Rochester I told the constable exactly what had happened. There would be rumours and there would be exaggeration. He needed to know the truth. “The knights were wrong to do what they did but their initial plan was to arrest him and take him to Winchester. He refused because they were low born. They were fools. Had they come for me then he might have acceded to their demands. He fought them when they tried to drag him hence and they killed him.”
“A bad day for the King, lord. Already we have those in the town calling for the Archbishop to be made a saint.”
I shook my head, “He was anything but a saint! I am sorry that he was murdered but I am happy that he is dead for he was an evil man.”
“Yet the world will say he was a martyr.”
“I cannot help what the world thinks. They will believe what they are told.”
I had half expected to meet with the King heading for Canterbury but he was still in London. I sought him out as soon as I reached the Tower. “Your Majesty I came as soon as I could.”
He shook his head, “I did not give them any orders! They acted on their own! I cannot be blamed!”
“Yet you will be. Are there men looking for the killers?”
He shook his head. “Why? The deed is done. We can do nothing about it now! I have more pressing matters to deal with. My sons bicker and fight like dogs over a bone! What am I to do with them Earl Marshal?”
I suddenly felt weary. “They are your sons, my lord.”
“But you have always advised me well.”
On the way back from Can
terbury I had had much time to think of my future. I was no longer able to be useful. I was used by the King when he needed me. I did not particularly like his sons and Henry had changed. “My lord, the journey to Canterbury almost killed me. I beg permission to go to Stockton to recover.”
He appeared to see me for the first time, “Leave London? But I need you now more than ever.”
“No, King Henry, I am the Warlord. This is not a war you fight. This is a squabble between petulant princes. When there is war then send for me and I will be your right hand once more. Until then I have a family and people whom I would like to see. I will travel home to Stockton.”
“Then go! Be another ingrate! I will deal with this myself!” It was not the best of partings!
Simon and I left the next day. We took spares horses which I purchased and we engaged four old soldiers as servants. Even though the air was filled with rain and sleet I felt happier than I had for many months. Simon ensured that we travelled at a pace which suited me and that I ate well. He had some of the medicine from Brother Cedric and I was cosseted all the way home. It took almost sixteen days to do a journey which I once accomplished in five days. Then I had been a young man and now I was a wounded old warrior.
Part Three
William Earl of Cleveland
Chapter 10
My father had been back in his home for a year. He was a shattered man when he reached us. The ride to Canterbury on the King’s orders had almost done for him. We gave thanks to the priest and God who had saved him. I was just grateful that it had been a quiet year. There were events further afield but we were safe in our cocoon that was our valley. The Scots remained cowed and bowed after our swift victory. My knights’ ladies had babies and the land prospered.
The King had disappointed both my father and me. He had done nothing to apprehend the killers who hid out at Knaresborough castle. They had, just a few months ago, sought the King’s advice and he had not given them any. When Captain William arrived from the Loir he told us that they had gone to Rome to seek forgiveness for the murder. Their excommunication was to be lifted after fourteen years’ service in the Holy Land. It was a death sentence but at least they were punished.
