As they entered the castle Richard could see that his friends were uneasy.
‘My lord,’ whispered one of them, ‘can we trust this man?’
‘I trust him,’ said Richard.
Alas! thought his men. Was Richard perhaps a little too trusting?
The pilgrims were given a large room in which they could spend the night and they were invited to eat in the great hall with Roger’s family.
Afterwards Richard sang for them and they brought a lute for him to play. Then Roger asked that Richard play a game of chess with him.
They removed to a quiet corner of the hall and sat there, the board between them.
Richard noticed the fine handsome face, the noble bearing, the fair colouring, the long Norman legs, and liked well what he saw.
‘I could find it in my heart to linger here,’ he said.
Roger flushed slightly and said: ‘Naught would delight me more, my lord.’
Richard saw that the hand on the piece Roger held trembled a little. He had not noticed he had called him my lord.
Their eyes met and there was understanding between them.
Here is a man whom I could love, thought Richard.
He looked at the rafters above the hall, at their companions still at the table, at the serving men and women passing back and forth.
‘It has been a day I shall remember,’ said Richard. ‘I shall never forget you, Roger of Argenton.’
‘Nor I you, my lord.’
‘What do you know of me, Roger?’
‘That you are no humble pilgrim.’
‘Pilgrims are not always men of humble standing.’
‘Nay, but there is that about you that proclaims you to be of the highest rank.’
‘Do you know who I am?’
‘I know who I believe you to be.’
‘And who is that?’
‘I dare not say, my lord, but if you would tell me it would make me happy.’
‘Can you keep a secret, Roger?’
‘I would let them pull out my tongue, my lord, rather than betray one you told me.’
‘Then here is one: I am Richard of England. Nay, do not rise. It is our secret, remember.’
‘You know they are seeking you?’
‘I know I am surrounded by enemies.’
‘They seek to trap you.’
‘Let them try.’
‘There is an order in this land that you are to be sought and when found taken to the Lord Frederick.’
‘Fret not, Roger. I will elude them. Think not that Coeur de Lion will be disturbed by some petty ruler like this Frederick.’
‘But if you fell into his hands . . . as you are . . .’
‘He would be the one who would have to fear. Come, I have put you in check.’
They returned to the game which Richard won and then he said that it was time for retiring.
He lay on his pallet but he could not sleep. He was thinking of Philip who had betrayed him and then he thought of the gentle eyes and the Norman bearing of Roger of Argenton.
Would he would follow me, he thought.
He was awakened by one of his attendants. ‘What now,’ cried Richard. ‘Is it morning then?’
‘Nay, my lord, just past midnight. Roger of Argenton is without. He says he must speak to you. It is of the greatest importance.’
Richard rose from his bed.
‘Have a care, my lord.’
‘Fear not. I trust this man.’
One of his knights put a robe about his shoulders and he stepped out of the room.
Roger immediately knelt at his feet.
‘Pardon, my King,’ he murmured. ‘Pardon.’
‘What is your sin?’ asked Richard, ‘that you get me from my bed to ask forgiveness for it.’
Roger was on his feet, his eyes wide. ‘My lord, you must fly from here without delay. I have had a horse made ready. Do not delay.’
‘Why so? You were hospitable enough last evening and now would be rid of us.’
‘I must confess. I knew who you were. I was sent by Lord Frederick to intercept you, to bring you here, to trap you. I want you to go before they come for you. I would rather die than be the one who betrayed you.’
‘So you set out to do that then, Roger?’
‘I was ordered by my lord. But I cannot do it, Sire. That is why I warn you. You must go at once. The horse is ready. I shall tell them that I was mistaken. That you are not in this area.’
‘Thank you, Roger.’
‘I could not betray you, for I love you.’
‘I love you, too,’ said Richard. ‘Nor shall I forget this night.’
‘Then prepare and be gone. It has been the greatest honour of my life to receive you here, but I shall not rest until you have gone.’
Richard drew Roger to him and kissed him.
Then he turned and went back into the room.
‘Dress!’ he cried. ‘Prepare. We are leaving here without delay. Roger of Argenton was meant to betray us and he has saved us instead.’
When Roger reported to Frederick that the pilgrims were in fact a certain Baldwin de Bethune and his companions, Frederick was bitterly disappointed. So much so that he said he would like to examine the pilgrims himself and he sent out orders for their arrest.
Roger was ahead of him. He knew in which direction they had gone and he reached them before they were discovered.
‘The pilgrims will be arrested,’ he told Richard. ‘They are to be taken before Frederick. You, my liege lord, must not be with the party when it is taken. Leave it now. Your horse will carry you a long way from here. Take with you but one servant. Go northwards as fast as you can. Do not seek rich lodgings. Be careful that you are not noticed.’
So once again Roger had saved him, for a day after Richard had parted with his knights they were discovered, arrested and thrown into prison.
There he was, the King of England, accustomed to being surrounded by a retinue of followers, alone in a strange land, save for one page. When he had left his friends he and his page had galloped northwards for some hours until his horse was exhausted; when they had come to a forest, the page tethered the horses to a tree, spread out a cloak upon the grass and they slept.
It was dawn when Richard awoke. He looked about for his friends and seeing only the sleeping page realised with dismay what had happened.
He faced the situation. Richard of England was wandering across Europe, with no knowledge of geography, realising that he was surrounded by enemies, with no servants except the page and only the treasure they could carry to pay for his journey.
It was an incongruous situation. The man who had but a short time ago commanded men in their thousands was now a fugitive.
He was not entirely dismayed. This was adventure, although of a different kind from those that usually came his way, but he was ready for any sort of adventure.
He shouted to his page, who hearing his voice sprang up in confusion.
‘Come, page,’ he said, ‘we must be on our way. We have to reach the coast somehow and take ship for England. There are just the two of us which is not a bad thing, for none would suspect a king would travel with just one servant. I doubt not you are as hungry as I am. We will ride on and perhaps find food somewhere.’
The page brought his master’s horse and they started off.
For three days they travelled, living as they could. Richard would wait outside a town in a thicket, if that were possible, while the page went and bought food. They rode through the day and slept from exhaustion in fields and woods and on the third day they came to a city.
Richard did not realise that this city was Vienna and that he was in the heart of that territory which belonged to his bitterest enemy, Leopold of Austria.