‘To whom would he give such a valuable piece?’
‘We cannot say,’ said Sir Stephen. ‘It is something we must attempt to find out.’
Later that day he went to the goldsmith and came back with the news that he had seen the belt and agreed with Berengaria that it belonged to Richard. The goldsmith told him that he had bought it from a merchant who had come from Austria.
‘That means Richard must be there,’ said Joanna.
They were startled by the news. Richard should never have set foot in Austria. They all knew how Leopold had disliked him. He had never forgiven him for what he called the slight on the walls of Acre, and that other incident when Richard had actually kicked him before his followers.
They were all very uneasy.
Sir Stephen had told them not to return to the goldsmith. He would be suspicious of too much interest in the jewelled belt. They could not resist going out but they did follow Sir Stephen’s orders by taking two menservants with them.
There was a great deal of gossip in the streets. As they mingled with the crowds they heard Richard’s name mentioned.
They went into a shop to buy silk for which the city was renowned, and there they heard more rumours.
The owner of the shop told them that he had heard that the great Richard Coeur de Lion had been travelling near Vienna with his page and that he had been captured.
‘Captured!’ cried Joanna indignantly. ‘How could this be? He would never allow himself to be captured.’
‘I but tell what I hear, my lady,’ said the shopkeeper. ‘The rumour is that the great King was shipwrecked and came to the Austrian coast and that many of his friends were captured. He was the last to be taken but he had gone on with only his page and the page was taken and confessed who his master was.’
‘Where is he?’ asked Joanna.
‘That no one knows,’ was the answer. ‘But it seems certain that the hero of the crusades is now in the hands of his enemies.’
They hurried back. There they found Stephen. He too had heard the rumours.
‘If it is true that Richard is indeed in the hands of the Duke of Austria that means also the Emperor of Germany. We must take especial care. Were we to venture out of Rome it might well be that we too should be captured.’
‘Of what use would that do Richard’s enemies?’ asked Joanna.
‘They would doubtless give a great deal to lay their hands on the wife and sister of the King. Nay, we shall not now ask the Pope for safe conduct to Pisa, but that we may rest here for a while until we can learn whether there is any truth in these rumours.’
There must be no more wandering in the streets. The situation was perilous. If the King were indeed the prisoner of his enemies, then he was in no position to protect his wife and sister. Any ill might befall them and there be none to avenge them, for there was another rumour which was to the effect that the King’s brother John was in no mood to help his brother.
Stephen was relieved when he received the Pope’s permission for the Queens and their party to remain in Rome.
How endless the days seemed now! There was no longer any doubt that Richard was a prisoner though none knew where he had been incarcerated. That he was in the hands of the Emperor Henry VI of Germany there seemed to be no doubt, and Henry would certainly not feel very friendly towards the man who had allied himself with Tancred, the usurper of his wife’s crown of Sicily. The future looked black for Richard unless he could contrive to escape.
There was little news of England and that which came was disturbing. It seemed that Richard’s brother John was determined to take advantage of Richard’s absence and was seeking to take the throne itself.
The two Queens with their Cypriot friend, who never seemed to wish to leave them, passed their days in embroidering, playing chess and conversing with each other.
‘It seems it would have been better if Richard had never left England,’ said Joanna. ‘What good has he achieved in Palestine? What lasting good I mean; and when you think of all the blood that has been shed and treasure that has been lost . . . and now where is the King? And we are here in this foreign city depending on the goodwill of the Pope. What is the good of it all, Berengaria?’
‘Life is sometimes hard,’ said Berengaria. ‘Sometimes I wonder whether I shall ever lead a natural life with Richard.’
‘And you, little one,’ said Joanna turning to the Cypriot, ‘what do you wonder?’
‘When I shall see my father again. Whether I shall ever have a husband.’
‘Who can say what will befall any of us,’ said Joanna.
So they talked again and again of their plight and constantly they speculated on what the future would bring.
‘We cannot stay here for ever,’ said Joanna to Sir Stephen. ‘It is five months now since we came.’
Sir Stephen replied that if the Pope would give them safe conduct to Pisa and from thence to Genoa, they could now sail for Marseilles.
‘I would he would do so,’ said Joanna fervently. ‘I am tired of remaining in one place.’
‘We must remember though,’ said Sir Stephen, ‘with the King a prisoner if we were taken it might go hard with us.’
‘I would take the risk,’ declared Joanna.
The others agreed with her.
Finally the Pope sent word to them that he would instruct one of his Cardinals to give them safe conduct to Pisa. They were overjoyed when at last Cardinal Mellar came to them and told them that on the Pope’s orders he would look after them.
The journey to Pisa was made without incident and from that town they were conducted to Genoa where a ship was found to take them to Marseilles.
It was a great pleasure for Berengaria on arriving at Marseilles to find that they were met by Alfonso of Aragon, a friend and a kinsman whom she was sure she could trust. He embraced her with great warmth and was gracious to Joanna and the Princess.
He welcomed them to Marseilles and he said how pleased he was that they had escaped mishap on their arduous journey.
‘You are safe now,’ he told them. ‘I myself will conduct you from my Provençal lands and I shall make sure that I place you in the hands of one whom I can trust.’
Travelling with Alfonso was very different from travelling with the Pope’s emissary. There was feasting and entertaining wherever they stopped and Berengaria could not help hoping that the journey would take a very long time. Her future seemed uncertain whether Richard remained a prisoner or came home. It was disconcerting to have a husband who was no husband.
Too soon it seemed they reached the borders of Provence where they rested, while awaiting the coming of the Count of Toulouse.
‘The Count of Toulouse,’ cried Berengaria. ‘Did he not invade Guinne recently?’
‘That was the father of this Raymond,’ explained Alfonso. ‘He is a strong man and a gallant one; he is eager to conduct you to Normandy and to give his life if need be in your defence.’
Berengaria was worried. Her brother Sancho had beaten the Count of Toulouse in battle and it seemed strange that an enemy should be their protector.
However when the Count arrived, she was charmed by him. He was very handsome and his manner charming. He immediately disarmed suspicions by declaring that he wanted to wipe out his father’s indiscretion and if he could serve the ladies with his life he would be content.
Even Joanna, who was never impressed by flattery, was charmed by him.
And as they made their journey towards Poitou she became more and more so. She and the Count rode together, talked together, and could not it seemed have enough of each other’s company.
‘You will be sorry when we have to say good-bye to the Count of Toulouse,’ said Berengaria.
Joanna admitted this would be so.