Their fear increased. They had been three days there when they saw troops massing on the shore, and they thought the Emperor was preparing to attack the ship.
Then one morning they awoke to great joy. Richard, with his fleet, was coming to them. When they heard the trumpet from the Trenc-the-Mere, their relief and excitement were overwhelming.
It was Isaac Comnenus’s turn to be afraid. The situation would be quite different now.
Richard was furious when he heard that the salvaged goods had been confiscated and his sailors imprisoned. His men were weary; many had been seasick; but he was going into battle. He rallied them; their comrades had been ill-treated by Isaac Comnenus, who was no friend to crusaders. They came ashore. They had no horses. A peasant was riding by. Richard seized him, took his horse and mounted it. Richard on horseback brandishing his sword was a sight to strike terror into those who opposed him. This was the fabulous Coeur de Lion. Few could stand against him. Certainly not Isaac Comnenus. Soon Richard had put his enemies to flight.
He went to the fort and spoke to the people, telling them he came in peace not war. He did not want to quarrel with them, only with their Emperor who had stolen his goods and ill-treated his men, and he would be punished for this. But Richard was not at war with them. The only war he wanted to fight was a holy war.
The people were submissive; the Emperor’s rule was harsh and they had little love for him; and they were overawed, as all must be, by the sight of Richard.
It was in Limassol that Richard married Berengaria.
I knew I could trust him to keep his promise to me. Joanna wrote and told me about it. I was glad she did for she told me in more detail than the others would have.
The people were pleased to have a royal wedding in their town. The romantic situation appealed to them. Moreover, Richard was such an impressive figure. I doubt any of them had ever seen a man so handsome; Berengaria was a charming bride, and the fact that she had traveled from Navarre and had made the hazardous journey to her future husband was intriguing.
Of course, the Archbishop of Canterbury should perform the ceremony, but on this occasion it was quite out of the question, and Richard’s chaplain Nicholas would have to serve instead. I daresay it occurred to Richard that there might be a possibility of postponing the wedding until he returned to England that the Archbishop of Canterbury might officiate, but he must have remembered his promise to me.
This was something more than a wedding for, having driven Isaac Comnenus several miles inland, Richard had decided to crown himself King of Cyprus. Thus he would make Cyprus safe for pilgrims. He had always said that making the way safe was as important as getting to Jerusalem itself. Many pilgrims had set out and many had been lost on the way, through the treachery of those through whose land they had had to pass. Now he was making Cyprus safe, there should be both a wedding and a coronation.
Joanna said that Berengaria looked very charming with her long hair parted in the center; she wore a transparent veil held in place by a jewel. She was so happy that she looked quite beautiful in her long white gown. Richard looked godlike. Joanna rhapsodized over his appearance. She had never seen any man so splendid. His great height, his Nordic looks, his imperious manner were such as to make people worship him. They were ready to believe in his divinity; and since he had told them that he wished them no ill, they accepted him gladly, for Isaac Comnenus was far from a benevolent ruler.
Richard walked to the church, one of his splendidly appareled knights going before him, leading his horse, whose saddle glittered with jewels. The people crowded in to the feast and, when they saw this godlike being playing the lute so sweetly and singing to accompany it, they thought it was indeed a visitation from Heaven.
So at last they were married. Joanna knew my thoughts, and she added that after the feasting the bride and groom were conducted to their tent. In Joanna’s opinion all ended satisfactorily.
I pray Berengaria be fruitful soon, I said to myself.
The wedding celebrations had been brief. I supposed Richard was more interested in the conquest of Cyprus; and Isaac Comnenus was not a straightforward person to deal with. Richard had announced that Isaac was his vassal and that he would rule Cyprus under him; but as he was committed to leave for the Holy Land, he proposed to put a deputy in charge of the island and take with him Isaac who must now muster up a company of his best soldiers.
On the morning when they were due to depart, Isaac had disappeared. He clearly had no intention of going to the Holy Land. He did not consider Richard ruler of his island; he had merely appeared to capitulate in order to gain time.
But Isaac was no match for Richard, even though, during the fighting, Richard was taken ill with the return of the ague which plagued him from time to time. That he should be enfeebled angered him, but when the fever was on him there was nothing he could do but rest.
Urgent messages were coming from the King of France. Where was Richard? Why was he not with him? Was he or was he not supposed to be leading the crusade?
The King of France would have to learn that one of the greatest tasks facing the crusaders was to make the way safe for pilgrims, and that was what Richard was doing. In his messages Philip referred to him as Duke of Normandy, implying that he was ordering Richard to obey him. That always infuriated Richard as it had Henry. He sent a message back to say that the King of England would come in his own good time and took orders from no one.
But he was eager to go. He was afraid that Philip Augustus would take Acre without him.
He set two men whom he could trust to administer the island. Isaac was in silver chains, and his daughter was in the care of Joanna and Berengaria. So Richard set sail.
The Cyprus adventure had delayed him considerably; but he had made the way safer for pilgrims. and his fame had increased.
Now he was ready to join forces with Philip Augustus and to throw himself into the all-important battle for Acre.
The Road to Chlus
THE MONTHS WERE PASSING. Christmas was upon us. News came that the key town of Acre had fallen to the Christians. I was delighted. This would mean that they were ready to march on Jerusalem. I prayed that their crusade would soon have achieved its purpose and Richard would be back with us.
I spent Christmas at Bonneville-sur-Touques. It was very quiet but I was in no mood for merriment. I was very anxious about Richard. I was sure the climate he was enduring would bring little good to his health, and I was uneasy about England and the French provinces.
Then I had disquieting news. A jongleur came to the castle. He had been in Paris and could tell us that Philip Augustus had returned home from the crusade.
“He is very ill, my lady,” I was told. “His hair has fallen out and his nails are dropping off.”
“Was it some pestilential fever?”
“No one knows. He said he was forced to return home because of the treachery of the King of England.”
“This is nonsense,” I said. “He is more likely to be treacherous than my son.”
“It is what he is saying, my lady. He says that the Franks captured Acre and that Richard Plantagenet would take all the credit for it.”
“A likely story. How dare he!”
“The people of Paris are giving him a hero’s welcome.”
I was very uneasy. They must have quarreled, and this, like most lovers’ quarrels, would be violent. I knew Philip Augustus was jealous of Richard. How could he help it? Philip Augustus was a wily King; he could be more devious than Richard; but he lacked Richard’s charisma; he was no Coeur de Lion. I had heard it said that, as soon as they saw Richard, men clustered about him and were ready to go wherever he led. That must have been galling to Philip Augustus. It was true he had loved Richard but that was one part of himself; the rest was all king, and kings of France would always regard kings of England as their natural enemies.