‘That’s true,’ said Edward. ‘And since Llewellyn sees fit to flout me thus it occurs to me that it may be necessary for me to settle this question of the Welsh once and for all.’
‘Ah, if that could be done, my lord, I doubt not it would be good for England and for Wales,’ said Pembroke. ‘But is it possible?’
‘My lord,’ replied Edward, ‘nothing is possible to those who think it impossible. The first rule when undertaking a difficult task is to stop saying “I can’t” and say “I will”.’
The lords nodded agreement and Warenne said, ‘Llewellyn has become very friendly with the de Montforts.’
‘I know that and I like it not,’ replied Edward. ‘The de Montforts caused enough trouble to my father. I am determined they shall not cause it to me.’
‘There are two of his sons left and one daughter,’ commented Warenne.
Edward nodded. ‘Henry died with his father at Evesham as we know, and Simon died in Italy soon after the murder of my cousin. By God, I shall never forgive them for what they did to Henry. They are cursed and doomed for that for ever. To murder him, so vilely while he knelt at his prayers … my cousin Henry! You know my feelings for him. He was my companion … come to that we were all companions in the royal nursery – Henry of Cornwall, the cousin I loved the best, and those others … cousins also … the de Montfort children. Henry of Cornwall was a man of outstanding nobility. I learned much from him, for he was those few years older than I which are so important when one is young. I looked up to him. There was a time when I was wild and foolish, when I was capable of senseless cruelty. Thank God my cousin Henry showed me the folly of that. I owe him much, and when I think of him as he must have been kneeling at the altar and those wicked men creeping up on him … when I think of the foul and obscene things they did to his corpse after they had murdered him, I cry vengeance on those who carried out this wicked crime. I say a curse on de Montfort.’
‘As those who saw the same done to the bodies of Simon de Montfort and his son Henry cried on you and yours,’ said Gilbert who could never resist making a logical comment even if he put his life in danger through making it.
But Edward was a logical man himself. ‘True,’ he said shortly. ‘True. But I had no hand in the murder of Simon de Montfort. He died in battle. That he was mutilated afterwards was the fortune of war. But to take this good and noble man as he knelt in prayer! No, Gilbert, I’ll not have it. A curse on the de Montforts … the whole family … even my aunt who became one through her secret marriage.’
‘Your feelings are easy to understand, my lord,’ said Warenne. ‘And it is the de Montforts we have to guard against.’
‘Guy is a murderer and despised as such,’ said the King. ‘He will not prosper. But my cousins Almeric and Eleanor live in exile with my aunt and there is a rumour that Llewellyn is enamoured of my cousin Eleanor.’
‘It is so!’ said Gilbert. ‘She is royal, for her mother is King Henry’s sister, and Llewellyn and she it is said fell deeply in love.’
‘She was a beautiful girl when I last saw her,’ said Edward.
‘Nurtured as she must have been, how would she feel towards the rough mountain chieftain?’ wondered Pembroke.
‘I heard that she was as taken with Llewellyn as he with her and that pledges were made between them. Of course she is in exile and cannot come here and he – rebel chieftain that he is – is in no position to bring her. Thus are true lovers kept apart.’ Edward’s mouth was firm. ‘And shall remain so.’
‘Unless of course …’ began Gilbert.
‘Unless, my lord?’ Edward interrupted. ‘I guess what you will say. Unless we can use my cousin, the Demoiselle Eleanor, as a bargaining counter to bring Llewellyn to heel.’
‘If that were possible it would be a good plan.’
‘It would indeed,’ said Edward. ‘I think we are noticed. Our serious conversation gives an impression that we are holding a council of war.’
‘Which in a way we are, my lord,’ added Gilbert.
‘And that is no way in which to conduct a coronation. Let us ask the minstrels to sing.’
The coronation festivities continued. There was no more popular man in the city of London than the King. He was strong, said the people. He would not be a man to be ruled by his wife; nor was she a woman to seek to rule.
All knew that the late King had been ruled by his wife and she had been the one they hated; though they despised the King. But this was a new era.
This King was just. The matter of the bridge confirmed their belief in him.
A party of London citizens had asked leave to see the King during that period of coronation celebrations and he, knowing full well the importance of his capital, agreed to receive their leaders and hear what they had to say.
The head of the party bowed low before the King and when asked what troubled him he explained that it was the state of London Bridge.
‘My lord King,’ said the man, ‘it has fallen into such a state of decay that it is scarcely safe.’
‘Then this must be rectified without delay,’ cried the King. ‘Why has it not been done?’
‘My lord, repairs are made from the revenue received from the custody of the bridge and have previously been done regularly that the bridge may be kept in good order.’
‘Then why has it not been done now?’
There was silence and the King urged them to continue.
‘My lord, the King your father gave the custody of the bridge to the Queen your mother that she might enjoy the revenues therefrom. Since then the lady Queen has collected the dues and careth nothing for the state of the bridge.’
Edward felt a surge of anger against his mother. He knew that he need not verify the statement. Was this not exactly what his mother had been doing since she had come to the country? Was this not the reason for her unpopularity and that of his father and would she never understand that it was deeds such as this which had brought them within sight of losing their crowns.
He restrained the outburst which rose to his lips and replied, ‘My friends, you may leave this matter to me. I can tell you this. The bridge shall be repaired and its upkeep shall in future be looked after from the dues received.’
Exultant by his quick grasp of the situation and believing in his promise, for he was already gaining a reputation of being a man of his word, the deputation left and among their friends sang the praise of the new King who would undoubtedly bring a return of just rule to the country.
The Queen Mother was with her daughter and she had just heard the joyous news from Beatrice that she was pregnant again.
As Edward entered she cried, ‘Dear Edward, do come and join us. I have such good news.’
Edward found it difficult to curb his temper. He had a share of that defect of the Plantagenets, but he had told himself that he must learn to keep it under control. It needed all his willpower to do this now.
‘Your sister Beatrice is going to have another child.’
He took Beatrice’s hand and kissed it. ‘Congratulations, sister,’ he said. ‘I’ll warrant John is pleased.’
‘Oh yes, but he always gets anxious. He says we have five and should be content.’
The Queen Mother laughed indulgently. Nothing pleased her more than to hear of the devotion of her daughter’s husband.
‘I wish I could keep you here, Beatrice, until the child is born.’
She looked at Margaret and they smiled, recalling the time when they had deluded the Scottish nobles and Margaret had stayed in England to be with her mother when her daughter was born.
‘If it is a girl,’ said Beatrice, ‘I shall call her Eleanor after you, dearest Mother.’