Henry frowned slightly. Now and then people hinted to him that Hubert de Burgh took too much upon himself. One had actually said: ‘Does he think he is the King?’ But he did want Richard to come to him, so how could he complain?
Hubert was quick to notice the expression which passed across the King’s face and he said: ‘I am sure, my lord, that you will deal with this matter in the right way.’
‘I intend to,’ replied Henry.
‘I do not know, my lord, whether you consider your brother has perhaps become too much aware of his importance and feels that his relationship to yourself should give him especial privileges.’
‘I think this may be so.’
‘Ha, you will know how to deal with that,’ said Hubert.
When Richard arrived at court Hubert was with the King and when he asked if the King would wish him to leave, Henry had replied: ‘No, you may stay.’
Richard looked haughtily at his brother and demanded to know what all the bother was about.
‘This manor which you have taken from the German …’ began Henry.
‘It belongs to Cornwall,’ retorted Richard, ‘and therefore belongs to me.’
‘I command you to give it back,’ said Henry in his most regal manner.
Richard hesitated for a moment while he regarded his brother through half-closed eyes. Henry, thought Richard, not quite two years older than he was and imagining he had the right to command him! What a tragedy that he had not been the first-born. And what was Hubert de Burgh doing there? Was Henry afraid to move without his wet nurse?
Richard spoke coolly and calmly. ‘That I shall not do. The manor is mine by right.’
‘But I command it,’ cried Henry.
‘Then there is one thing for me to do. I shall take the matter before the King’s Court and the magnates whose judgment must be in my favour. Only if they decide against me would I consider giving it up.’
Henry saw this as a direct insult to that which he was eager to stress, his royal dignity.
He clenched his fists and approached his brother. He was beginning to betray a hot temper, Hubert noted, which could rise suddenly and result in somewhat impulsive actions.
‘You will either give up the castle or leave the country,’ he said.
‘So you would banish me! You give yourself airs, Henry.’
‘Airs. I the King.’
‘There was a charter, have you forgotten? Our father was forced to give his name to it. There is, as a consequence, some justice in this country. I shall go now to the barons and insist on justice and abide by the judgment of my peers.’
With that he turned and strode from the chamber.
Henry was too taken aback to speak for a moment. His rage choked him.
Hubert watched him and waited for him to speak. He was realising that Henry was not so easy to handle as he had once been, and he himself would have to tread carefully. Those sudden rages were alarming and if he could turn so on his brother for whom he was supposed to have some affection, how much more easily he could do so on his Justiciar.
At last Henry spoke. ‘Well, Hubert de Burgh, what think you of that?’
‘I think you have decided that the Earl of Cornwall must be dealt with in a manner he may not like.’
Henry was relieved. He had thought for a moment that Hubert might consider Richard had right on his side.
‘You think I was over harsh?’
‘I think you were just, which is what a king should be.’
Henry looked with affection on Hubert. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘what now? What if he takes this matter to the court? What if it is decided that he has right on his side?’
‘In one matter he has no right on his side. He has behaved in a manner towards his King as no loyal subject should, and though he is your brother he is your subject. For that he deserves to be taught a lesson.’
‘What lesson?’
‘He should be seized and kept in confinement. Perhaps that will show any court that you will brook no insults.’
‘You are right, Hubert.’
‘Shall I send a troop of men out to take him?’
‘Pray do so. When he is my prisoner he will have time to cool his temper.’
The command was given, but by the time a guard was sent in pursuit, Richard had already escaped.
He was on his way to William Marshal, his sister Eleanor’s husband, and the man to whom those who thought the power of Hubert de Burgh was too great, were beginning to turn.
Richard rode with all speed to Marlborough, where he expected to find William Marshal. He was not sure what Henry’s reaction would be when he had time to recover himself. Henry was very unsure of himself – that much was certain, but when Hubert had told him what to do, he might take some revenge.
It was a good idea to go to Marshal because Richard knew that there was a growing resentment in the country – not so much against Henry whom they all regarded as little more than a boy, as against Hubert de Burgh. Hubert was far too rich and powerful – and getting more so; and it was obvious that in this matter of the Cornish manor Hubert was on the King’s side. Therefore he would be against Richard.
It was bad luck that when he arrived at the castle William Marshal was not there. But Eleanor, his sister, was and how delighted she was to see him.
She flung herself into his arms and clung to him. She was thirteen years old and a wife; but a virgin still, Richard guessed.
It was amusing to see her as the châtelaine, and he was mildly touched because she was so very young.
She told him that her husband would shortly be returning to the castle. Perhaps that very day. His sister, Isabella, and Isabella’s husband Gilbert de Clare, were staying with them, and though Gilbert was with William, Isabella was in the castle.
They would be delighted with his company.
Eleanor commanded that a bedchamber be prepared for him and he sat with her and talked while this was made ready.
He had recently been at court. How was their sister Isabella? And he must have been with Henry.
He told her that Isabella was well and that old Margaret Biset was the same as ever.
‘Have they found a husband for Isabella yet?’ she asked.
He told her they had not but the King was feeling his way on that matter.
‘I hope she finds a good husband and does not have to go overseas.’
‘We cannot all be lucky like you, little sister.’
‘You will be. Men always are. They do not have to go away – and they have more choice in the matter of marriage.’
‘But you have been fortunate, little sister?’
‘I did not see my husband for a long time. He was in Ireland, you know. Now he is home …’
She looked a little bewildered, but not, Richard was glad to note, altogether alarmed.
He wished William would come back. He had so much to say to him and if he did not return soon he would have to ride on and find some other whom he knew would be sympathetic.
But there was something solid about Marshal which came from the present one’s father, the first Earl of Pembroke, who had served Henry II, Richard and John and, before he had died some eight years before, had been responsible for helping young Henry to the throne. He had been recognised throughout the kingdom as a most honourable man and one in whom those who worked for the right could put their entire trust. This William, young Eleanor’s husband, the second Earl, had not yet been tried, but he stood reflected in the bright glow of righteousness which came from his father’s reputation.
As he talked to Eleanor he was aware of someone coming down the stairs. He turned and was looking at a woman of great beauty. She was not young but that did not take anything from her charm. Her thick dark hair hung in a plait and she wore a blue gown embroidered with white silk.