‘They are all jealous of me,’ said Gaveston blithely. ‘They envy me your lordship’s love.’
But he did not really think that was the reason. They envied him because he was richer, more handsome and so much more clever than they were.
‘A plague on their council,’ he added. ‘Come sit, my lord, and let us talk of other matters than this dreary community of slow-witted oafs.’
Edward said: ‘You must not talk so of my relations, wicked one.’
‘As I have told you many times, my lord, the perfections allotted to your family were all saved for you.’
So they laughed and snapped their fingers at the barons, but knew that they were moving towards a repetition of what had happened before.
‘Let us do a play for Christmas,’ suggested Gaveston. ‘What say you, my lord?’
‘You know how to divert me.’
‘Then we will go to Langley and have Christmas there together. Oh how the thought of that pleases me!’
‘It fills me with great joy to have you back with me,’ said Edward.
So they spent Christmas at Langley, in Hertfordshire, and they were very merry and for days they were happy together. Edward showered gifts on Gaveston and calculating their worth, Gaveston felt it was indeed a pleasant Christmas that they spent at Langley.
February came and it was time to attend the Parliament at Westminster.
Edward and Gaveston came south together lamenting that thee happy days of Christmas were over.
They knew there would be trouble. What had happened at York had been a pointer to that. This would be more serious. This was Westminster. If any of the barons refused to attend the Parliament and gave as their reason the presence of Gaveston, that would have to be taken seriously.
Edward was downcast, terrified that it would mean separation again.
Gaveston was more optimistic.
‘We will find a way, sweet lord,’ he said. ‘Leave it to me.’
‘You are clever Perrot, I know,’ replied Edward. ‘But how I hate these men!
I think most of all I hate Warwick. Your name for him is apt. He is like a mad dog, and I fear mad dogs. Their bite can mean death.’
‘We will draw the fangs of this one, Edward, before he has time to infect us with his venom.’
But it was as Edward feared. Warwick, Oxford, Arundel and Hereford, led by Lancaster, refused to attend. Their reason for their absence was as before.
Because of the presence of Piers Gaveston.
Edward was in a quandary. There must be a session of Parliament, for he needed money and only Parliament could grant it. Also there was animosity in the air and he knew towards whom it was directed.
He was afraid for Perrot.
They discussed the matter together and even Gaveston dropped his easy optimism. They were out to destroy him, and he knew it.
‘You must get away from here,’ said the King. ‘It breaks my heart but you must go. I cannot be at peace while you are here for I fear for you. Leave at once for the North. I will join you as soon as I can. Then I will call the Parliament and they will assembled because you are no longer with me.’
It was drastic. It was infuriating. But they both saw that a separation by themselves was better than one which would be forced on him.
So they parted, and Gaveston rode North.
It was unfortunate that about this time the Earl of Lincoln died. It was true that he had become alienated from the King because of Gaveston and had deeply resented the insolent of Burst Belly being applied to him; but although he was somewhat ponderous he had been a steady influence and had won the respect of Edward the First. It was because the second Edward was so unlike his father that Lincoln had swerved his allegiance but what he had done was had been that which he thought right for the country.
The reason why his death was such a blow to the King was that Thomas Earl of Lancaster, who had married Lincoln’s daughter, on Lincoln’s death inherited the earldoms of Lincoln and Salisbury through his wife. As Lancaster already had, besides his royal birth, the earldoms of Leicester and Derby, he was without doubt one of the richest and most influential men in the country.
Being seven years older than the King and considerably more mature, he had overnight become an even greater power in the land than he had been before. He had shown himself to be one of the fiercest enemies of Piers Gaveston, and with Lincoln dead, discontented barons looked to him to lead the faction which was going to demand the final banishment of Gaveston.
The King was very worried.
Edward lost no time in joining Gaveston under the pretext of making war on Scotland and he was at Berwick when news came to him of Lincoln s death and Lancaster’s accession to the earldoms.
It was very pleasant to be far away from the conflict, and Gaveston said:
‘You know, lord, we should be grateful to your enemies the Scots.’
Then they laughed together and talked in that intimate fashion which was such a delight to the King and they wondered how long they would be left in peace to enjoy each other’s company.
Their pleasure was interrupted by an announcement that Lancaster was on his way north to pay homage to the King for the earldoms of Lincoln and Salisbury which he had just acquired. That, he said, must be his first duty.
‘A plague on him,’ cried Edward. ‘I never trusted that man.’
‘He’ll be insupportable now,’ agreed Gaveston, and added enviously, ‘He will be the richest man in the kingdom― no exception.’
‘My Perrot must run him pretty close,’ said the King fondly.
‘But five earldoms! He will think himself more important than the King.’
‘He did that with three.’
‘We must find a way of cutting that arrogant fellow down a little, my lord.’
Edward agreed, but it was Lancaster who was to cut Gaveston down.
One of Lancaster’s men arrived at Berwick with a message from his master.
The King heard what the man had to say and his brow darkened with anger.
Gaveston was with him and his indignation was as great as the King’s because Lancaster’s message was that he refused to come to Berwick. He owed allegiance to the King for his lands in England and as Berwick was over the border into Scotland it would not be proper for him to come to the King. The King must come to him.
‘I never heard such insolence!’ cried Gaveston.
Edward was uneasy. ‘Some would say he was right. Berwick is across the border and we are just inside Scotland.’
‘So you will give way to this man.’
The messenger said: ‘My lord has said that if you will not accept his allegiance he must return south without it.’
Edward realized what that meant. At any time, Lancaster could raise an army against him— and he was capable and rich enough to do that— and not put himself wrong with the law, because he had sworn no allegiance.
‘There is nothing to be done but cross the border and meet him,’ said Edward. ‘He must take his oath of allegiance.’
Gaveston had to agree and the King sent the messenger back to say that he would see Lancaster at Haggerston, a small place close to Berwick and just within the English border.
There they met— a very arrogant enriched Lancaster, and a somewhat humiliated Edward with Gaveston who felt mischievous and at the same time excessively envious of this man whose birth and marriage had brought him five earldoms and all that went with them.
The King received the Earl’s homage with Gaveston beside him. Lancaster’s behaviour was very correct as far as the King was concerned but the contemptuous manner in which he ignored Gaveston was obvious. Edward felt furious but could do nothing about it in public although he raved against Lancaster in private.