It was wonderful to be with my beloved son. Now that he was home, I told him, he must not go away again; and I think he agreed with me. Prison had had its effect on him. But, of course, he was an adventurer by nature.
“You must now show yourself to your subjects,” I told him. “You have been too little in England. The English want to see their King. We shall make a tour of the countryside. It is the perfect time of the year to do this. Spring is the best time in England.”
He was very grateful to me for all I had done. He knew that I, and I alone, had kept his kingdom intact during his absence, and he was fully aware of what a difficult task it had been. He was ready to take my advice.
There followed a happy time for me. We were together, as close as ever. We talked freely and frankly. He told me how he had traveled across Europe disguised as a merchant.
“I called myself Hugo of Damascus. It was interesting to stay in inns and to hear the talk of how King Richard was traveling in disguise across the country. One innkeeper told us that he would have to report our presence to the governor because we were strangers and they were told they must be watchful everywhere for the King in disguise.”
“That should have been a warning to you.”
“It was. Then there was Roger.” His eyes were soft, he was smiling. “I wish you could have met Roger. He was such a charming fellow. I knew him for a Norman as soon as I saw him; he had the fair looks and long limbs of a Viking.”
“One of your own kind,” I said.
“We met on the road. He asked us where our destination was and we told him England. He then said that we could spend a night or two at his castle. I liked the man on sight. Do you know, dear Mother, I trusted him. The others did not. They were very suspicious. But then they were suspicious of everyone.”
“And rightly so.”
“Yes, indeed, rightly so. But there was a feeling between myself and Roger. I knew he would not betray us.”
“Because of his handsome looks?”
“Oh far more than that. There was a rapport between us. He gave us a great welcome at his castle. I can see it now ... the smell of roasting venison, the sweet sound of music, the warmth of the great hall. He had a good voice and we sang together; we played a game of chess. I checkmated him. I think he may have allowed me to.
“He said to me after the game, ‘You are no ordinary merchant. I think you are a great nobleman.’ I had a feeling that he knew who I was, and I asked him if this were so. I said to him bluntly: ‘Do you know who I am?’ And he answered, ‘I think I do. You are the great Coeur de Lion. There could not be another who looks as noble as you, and I have heard that the King of England is the most noble-looking man on Earth.’ Such was the understanding between us that I did not deny it.
“He looked worried. He said, ‘You are in danger. There are those here who would make you prisoner. There is an order throughout the land that any who suspect a traveling merchant may be the King must immediately get a message to Frederick of Betsau.’ He was more afraid for me than I was for myself, and I found that touching.”
He paused, looking straight ahead, smiling tenderly.
Then he went on: “He said, ‘You must leave here at once. You are unsafe. In a few hours they will be here to take you.’ ‘You have not told them I am here?’ I asked. He fell on his knees and, taking my hand, kissed it. He said, ‘I was to set the trap. I was to bring you here. I was to have you here in bed when they arrived to take you. There is little time to lose. Go from here. But do not travel with your companions. You must have just one to accompany you.’ ‘You have deceived your master,’ I said. He nodded. ‘Why so?’ I asked. He said, ‘Because, my lord, I love you.’ I knew he spoke the truth.
“I went back to my friends. I told them what had happened. They said they knew that Roger was laying a trap for us, but I replied that he had opened the trapdoor and we should all be the better for having walked into it. So we rode away and I traveled with only one page to look after me.”
“When I think of the dangers through which you have passed, I tremble,” I said.
“Life is all danger. Compared with what we suffered in the Holy Land, this seems like a small adventure.”
“And it was when you were with your page that you were taken?”
“Yes. Perhaps we were careless. He used to go into the town to buy food. I would be outside in the country. I gave him jewels to sell. We had to have food somehow. It was inevitable, I suppose, that sooner or later someone would ask what a young page was doing with such gems. What we think of as of little value seems very grand to some people. My page was taken and threatened with torture. Poor lad, he was a good boy, but he did not want to lose his eyes or have his tongue cut out, so he told them where I was. We were staying the night at the cottage of a workman and his wife. They were glad to have us for a little recompense. When I heard the horsemen approaching, I went into the kitchen and tried to look like a yokel watching the meat on the spit.”
I laughed at the thought. “You could storm the walls of Acre with more success than you could pretend to be a yokel watching meat on a spit.”
“There were two guards and a captain. They burst into the kitchen. The captain said, ‘You are the King of England and I have come to arrest you.’ ‘On whose orders?’ I asked. He replied, ‘On those of my master, Duke Leopold of Austria.’ I knew I could expect little mercy then. Leopold of Austria, my great enemy!”
“Oh Richard,” I said, “we should never make enemies. They have a habit of turning up at the most awkward moments.”
“‘I demand you give me your sword,’ said the captain. I replied, ‘I will not give my sword to you, Captain. Your master will have to come to take it.’ He was nonplussed. I doubt he had ever arrested a king before. He set one of his men to guard me while he went off, and after a while he returned with Leopold, who was smiling smugly. He said, ‘This is a little different from the walls of Acre, eh?’ I replied that there was naturally a difference, but he was arrogant then and I saw no change in him now. ‘But the positions are reversed,’ he said. ‘You are my prisoner. There are men all over Europe who will sing my praises and rejoice when I have you under lock and key.’ ‘Those who are afraid of me, you mean,’ I said. ‘Weak men who yearn for the glory they have not the courage to win.’”
“You were in his power. Was it wise to speak to him thus?”
“I said what I meant, and you may rest assured he was discomfited.”
“But you were his prisoner ... and all that time. You must never put yourself in danger again.”
“I am home now. There is much to do here. It is my great pleasure to be with you and to know that you are well.”
“Now that you are back,” I said, “what of Berengaria?”
“She is happy enough where she is.”
“She would be happier with you. Richard she must come to England. She cannot stay so far away. She must be brought here, and when she comes you must live together as man and wife. There must be a child. Think of John and Arthur. His mother, Constance, is a very ambitious woman. It would be disastrous if there was war.”
“I intend to live a long time yet.”
“Long enough to get an heir and see him climb to manhood. But Richard, Berengaria must return.”
“Yes,” he said, “you are right.”
But I knew he would shelve the matter. He did not want a wife.
Our tour was successful. The people clearly rejoiced in such a handsome King. What a difference appearances made! And with his reputation they were proud of him.
I thought: We must keep it so.