But John Oldcastle was not going to let him forget.
"They took him ... a humble tailor," went on John. "Why choose such a man as an example? By God's teeth, he was a brave fellow. What was his crime? It was the denial of transubstantiation. What did he say: "If every consecration of the altar be the body of the Lord then there must be twenty thousand gods in England." He said he believed in only one God in England. They tried him in St Paul's. They showed him the sacrament and asked him what it was. He said it was hallowed bread but not God's body. And for that they took him out to Smithfield. You have forgotten this man, my lord. Who should remember a humble tailor? But if that humble tailor becomes a saint ..."
"This foolish man's martyrdom is beside the point."
"Oh no. No. It is very much to the point. And I never forget your part in it, my noble King. You cannot forget that you came riding by and I was with you; and you saw this man tied to the stake. They were lighting the faggots at his feet. And you stopped to watch. I sensed in you, my lord, a melancholy that a man should be persecuted for his religious beliefs. You were always one to flout convention, were you not? Those visits to the tavern were partly because you wanted to go, partly because eyebrows would be raised and people would say: "The Prince is wild. He is a reckless profligate." That made you laugh, snap your fingers at the old greybeards. But you stopped by Badby's stake and you paused to think. The flames licked his legs and the pain was intense. He cried out "Mercy". And you, my lord, what said you? "Remove the fire," you said. "Give him a chance to repent." So the fire was removed and you and the tailor looked into each other's eyes. "Swear that you were wrong," you said. "Declare that you were misled. Do that and you shall go in peace." But, my lord, Badby did not ask for mercy from mankind but from God; he called out not that the fire should be removed but that God would take him speedily into Heaven. He would not renounce his beliefs, so he was thrown back into the fire. His end, pray God, came quickly. That was Badby and methinks a man who continued to plague your thoughts for many a month to come."
"I remember it. He was a brave man."
"He died for his beliefs. There are many of us in this land, lord King, who would do the same."
The King burst into laughter. "Not you, old fellow," he said. "Not you. You're more likely to die from the tremors of Venus or the fumes of strong drink."
It is a strange and wondrous thing, my lord, that as you have changed, so have I. Does that not show in some mysterious way, that you and I walk close together."
"You'll forget your Lollards, John?"
"Will you forget your crown?"
"Never."
"Then why should I forget?"
"Because yours, you old buffoon, could be a martyr's crown if you persist in your follies."
"Then I would no more cast that aside than you would your crown of gold."
"Listen to me, John, I speak in all seriousness now. Give up these follies. Go back to your Cobham Manor. You have a new wife. Do your duty by her."
"Rest assured, lord King, that I will do what I believe to be my duty."
Henry realized with dismay that it was no use trying to persuade his friend to act with discretion. John Oldcastle seemed as determined now to snap his fingers at danger as he had ever been.
To his sorrow within a few weeks he heard that Lord Cob-ham had been arrested and sent to the Tower.
The King called on his stepmother at Windsor. To show his friendship for her on his father's death he had given her licence to live at his royal castles of Windsor, Wallingford, Berkhamsted and Hertford and Joanna had been pleased to accept this invitation, for she was eager to live on good terms with the new young King.
She was reconciled to the death of her husband. None could have wished him to live and suffer such a loathsome disease which had clearly grown worse as the months passed. It was heart-breaking to consider him as he had been when they had first fallen in love with each other; and it seemed like a cruel trick of fate that she should have been married to an old man and then when she was able to make her own choice it should have fallen on one who was quickly to develop into an invalid.
She believed that what happened had been too much for Henry. He had been haunted throughout his life by the ghost of Richard. She was sure that had he come to the throne through rightful inheritance everything would have been quite different.
Now, because she had been here so long and it had become home to her, she wished to stay in England. There would be a home for her in Brittany where her son was the reigning Duke but she feared her welcome there might be a cool one. Moreover she had rich estates in England; she had always enjoyed accumulating wealth and as the wife of King Henry the Fourth she had found opportunities of doing this. But she wished to stay; and therefore she must remain on the best of terms with her stepson.
She welcomed him into her apartments.
He had come, he said, to assure himself that she was comfortably settled; but it was more than that, she knew. He wanted her to do something for him; and she must of course, if it were possible.
It was not long before he came to the point.
"My great-grandfather Edward the Third was convinced that the crown of France rightly belonged to him. I share that view."
She waited.
"Moreover," he went on, "I intend to win it."
She said quietly: "You will resume the war with France?"
"I shall win my crown." He spoke with quiet determination. She remembered that his father had said that his eldest son thought like a soldier and acted like a soldier; and that when he came to the throne war would be his chief preoccupation like his ancestor whom men had called Richard the Lion-heart.
She said: "Your great-grandfather won many victories as did his son, the Black Prince, but they never won the crown of France for England."
"They did not continue long enough. Edward grew old and tired of the war. The Black Prince died in the prime of his youth. I would never give up. I would go in and win and that is what I intend to do."
"Can you ... raise the men ... the money."
"With God's help, I can and will."
Joanna felt uneasy. She hoped he was not going to ask her to help him. She loved her possessions. Her chief joy now was adding to them, counting them, gloating over them. She would not want to see that wealth which she had taken such pleasure in garnering dissipated in war.
"You are planning ..." she began.
"I was even before my father died," he replied. "I want to succeed, my lady, where others have failed. And make no mistake, I shall do so. I shall have the French on their knees, I promise you. Their King is mad. The Dauphin is not as fine a fellow as he believes himself to be. Indeed, my lady, I am planning. And indeed I shall take war into France. Now I want you to help me. I trust you are willing to do that."
"If I could it would be my pleasure, but I am a weak woman ..."
Joanna was silent. Her son, the Duke of Brittany, was married to the daughter of the King of France, and there would naturally be a strong influence there in favour of France. She felt uneasy.
Tour eldest son must be persuaded that my quarrel is just," said Henry. "I doubt not he will listen to his mother. Your son Arthur naturally owes his allegiance to me."
That was true. She had prevailed on her husband to bestow the title of Earl of Richmond on Arthur and this he had done. It would be Arthur's duty to range himself on the side of Henry. It was the eldest for whom she feared.
"It is a pity your son was married into France," he said.
She nodded. The marriage was arranged when she had come to England and for the reason that the King of France had wanted to make sure of the allegiance of Brittany.