A King's Ransom (31 page)

T
HIS WAS EASILY
R
ICHARD’S BEST DAY
since they’d sailed from Ragusa. While he was by nature an optimist, nearly three months in isolation had taken its toll. For all of his courtesy and occasional kindnesses, Hadmar von Kuenring was no friend, and Richard dared not forget that. But until Hubert Walter’s unexpected appearance, he had not realized how lonely he was. Being able to speak freely to men he knew he could trust—and in French—did much to raise his spirits. After they departed, promising to return the next day, he was feeling cheerful enough to reach for Hadmar’s lute. He could hear the music in his head and was strumming exploratory chords when he glanced up to find Hadmar standing several feet away. The Austrian’s face was inscrutable; that in itself was warning enough. “I do not suppose you’ve come to tell me that my queen has arrived for a conjugal visit.”

“I received a message from Duke Leopold,” Hadmar said, his voice no more expressive than his face. “He said that we are to leave on the morrow for the imperial court.” He waited for a response from Richard. Not getting one, he started to turn away and then stopped. “My duke did tell me that he was able to get the emperor to promise that you will suffer no bodily harm.”

Richard deliberately picked up the lute again. “And we both know how much the emperor’s promises are worth,” he said, striking another chord. When he looked up again, Hadmar had gone.

T
HEY REACHED
S
PEYER
three days later as dusk was falling. It was Palm Sunday and the great cathedral of St Mary and St Stephen was packed with worshippers, reminding Richard of how long it had been since he was shriven of his sins. He was expecting to be taken to the royal palace or perhaps to the bishop’s palace, wherever Heinrich had been able to gather the largest audience for the spectacle of surrender. When Hadmar escorted him into the cathedral precincts and then to the chapter house north of the great church, he concluded that once again he was to be held offstage until Heinrich was ready for the circus to begin. But as soon as he crossed the threshold, he saw that he was wrong. It would seem that the emperor had chosen not to make their first meeting a public one.

Heinrich was seated in the ornate bishop’s chair, flanked by Leopold and a stout, richly dressed man whom Richard assumed to be the Bishop of Speyer. There were others in the chapter house, but he was given no introductions to any of them. After Hadmar had gone to kneel before the emperor, Heinrich gestured for Richard’s guards to bring him forward. Richard’s first thought as he gazed upon his enemy was that Berenguela was right. There was nothing regal about Heinrich von Hohenstaufen. He was only of moderate height and slightly built, with a thin face, his pallor accentuated by blond hair and a sparse beard. But Berenguela was also right about his eyes. They were so pale they seemed colorless and Richard thought it was like looking into the flat, dead eyes of a snake.

Heinrich was holding a magnificent golden goblet studded with rubies. He drank, then set it down without haste upon the arm of his chair. “I expect men to kneel when they come into my presence.” His voice was without inflexion, his Latin excellent.

“Well, we do not always get what we expect, do we?”

A faint smile touched those thin lips. “I could make you kneel.”

Richard returned the smile. “No,” he said, “
you
could not,” giving the pronoun just enough emphasis so that there could be no mistaking his meaning. Such an insult would have sent angry blood into Philippe’s face. Heinrich did not react at all and Richard suddenly remembered his mother’s caustic comment: that he had ice flowing through his veins.

It was Leopold who spoke up. “Can we get on with this?” That he would show such impatience told Richard that he was not happy to be here. It also showed he was confident that he had leverage with Heinrich, and Richard decided the Austrian duke was more of a fool than he’d first thought.

“Of course, Cousin.” Heinrich smiled again, one of the most chilling smiles Richard had ever seen. “You may be the one to read the terms to the English king.”

Leopold did not like that at all. When one of the emperor’s scribes held out a parchment scroll, he took it with reluctance. Unrolling it, he glanced at it briefly and then back to Richard. “The Holy Roman Emperor and I agreed at Würzburg on the ides of February that I will deliver you, the king of the English, into his custody. You will be held at the emperor’s pleasure until payment is paid of one hundred thousand silver marks. Half is to—”

“You cannot possibly be serious!” Richard was stunned. Even in his worst moments, he’d not expected a demand like this. One hundred thousand silver marks was twice the annual revenues of England and Normandy.

Leopold frowned. “If I may continue? As I said, you are to pay the sum of one hundred thousand marks. Half of this amount is to be the marriage portion of your niece, the Duchess of Brittany’s daughter, who will wed my son Friedrich this coming Michaelmas. The remaining fifty thousand marks shall be paid at the beginning of Lent next year, and it is to be divided between the emperor and me.”

He raised his eyes from the document to glare defiantly at Richard. “You will also give the emperor two hundred highborn hostages as surety that you will fulfill the terms of this agreement. The emperor is to provide me with two hundred hostages of his own as surety that if he dies before these terms are met, you will be returned to my custody. If I should die, my son is to act in my stead. If you die whilst in the emperor’s power, your two hundred hostages will be released.”

Thinking that Richard meant to protest, he raised his hand. “There is more. You must free my cousin, Isaac Comnenus, and return his daughter, Anna, to him. You must also provide the emperor with fifty war galleys and one hundred knights, and you must go in person with another one hundred knights to fight at the emperor’s side in his war to overthrow the man who usurped the Sicilian throne.”

Leopold paused then, as if to savor what was coming next. “There is one more condition for your release. The emperor will hold your hostages until you have persuaded the Pope to absolve me in the event that I am unfairly excommunicated for taking you prisoner.”

It was one of the few times in Richard’s life when he was speechless. He stared at them, thinking that he’d fallen in with madmen. One hundred thousand silver marks was a sum so vast that it beggared belief. And did they think the world would be fooled because they called it a dowry, not a ransom? The demand that he help personally to overthrow his ally Tancred was beyond vindictive and would reduce the King of England to the status of one of Heinrich’s German vassals. The other terms were just as outrageous. Turn two hundred hostages over to Heinrich’s mercy and wed his niece to Leopold’s son? Free that whoreson Isaac Comnenus and give Anna back to him? Plead with the Pope on behalf of the man who’d abducted him?

“I think you have both lost your minds. I will never agree to any of this—never!”

Leopold flushed angrily, but Heinrich continued calmly sipping his wine. “Oh, I think you will,” he said, with another of those frigid smiles. “You see, if you do not agree, then you’re of no value to me, and I have no reason to keep you alive.”

As a bluff, it was well played. But Richard knew it was a bluff, for these greedy lunatics were not going to kill him, not when they thought they could plunder England’s coffers like Barbary pirates. “Well, then, we are at an impasse, for I would die ere I ever agreed to these terms.”

His defiance did not seem to disturb Heinrich’s composure in the least. “I will give you time to think it over.” He gestured to the guards, who moved forward to encircle Richard again. Realizing he’d just been dismissed as if he were a servant, Richard felt a surge of hatred so strong that it momentarily blotted out all else; never had he wanted a sword in his hand as much as he did at that moment. He did not resist the guards, though, unwilling to give Heinrich that satisfaction. The emperor watched as they started toward the door, waiting until it had been opened before he spoke.

“There is one more matter. Your trial begins on the morrow.”

CHAPTER TEN

MARCH 1193

Speyer, Germany

R
ichard was back in the cathedral’s chapter house, for Heinrich had decided that his trial would be held in the great hall of the Bishop of Speyer’s palace. He was awaiting Hadmar’s return and had begun to pace restlessly, while his Austrian guards tried to give him a little privacy by withdrawing to a corner of the chamber. He sensed their sympathy, but knew he’d be encountering a far more hostile audience when the Imperial Diet began, for Hadmar had already informed him that this was not to be a representative assembly of German princes. Since half of them were in revolt against Heinrich, they, of course, were conspicuously absent. The Austrian duke was present, with his brother, the Duke of Mödling, and his sons. Heinrich’s closest kin were in attendance, too: his uncle, the Count Palatine of the Rhine, and two of his brothers: Conrad, the Duke of Swabia, and Otto, the Count Palatine of Burgundy. Hadmar had reported that the Archbishop of Trier was in the great hall, as were the bishops of Speyer, Worms, Passau, Freising, and Zeitz. So were the imperial
ministeriales
, led by Heinrich’s marshal, Heinz von Kalden, and his seneschal, Markward von Annweiler, along with churchmen, envoys sent by the French king—and Boniface d’Aleramici, Marquis of Montferrat, younger brother of the man Richard was accused of murdering.

It seemed utterly unreal to Richard that he should be facing a trial, charged with betraying the Holy Land, and it felt like an eternity until Hadmar reappeared. “They are ready for you now,” he said somberly. “You will not be entirely friendless, for the emperor has permitted the Bishop of Salisbury, the Bishop of Bath, William de St Mère-Eglise, and the abbots to attend.”

The Bishop of Bath’s presence was a surprise to Richard, and not an entirely welcome one, for he did not trust the man all that much. “But they do not get a vote, do they?”

Hadmar glanced at the guards and then lowered his voice, even though he knew they spoke no Latin. “May I offer you some advice?”

“I’d rather you offered me a fast horse and a head start,” Richard said, with a tight smile. “But I’ll take the advice, too.”

“I think you ought to kneel to the emperor.”

“I’d sooner jab a needle into my eye!”

Hadmar had been expecting such a reaction and raised his hand. “At least hear me out. After Emperor Heinrich’s father drowned on his way to the Holy Land, much of the German army died when a plague struck Antioch. Heinrich’s brother Friedrich eventually got the survivors to the siege camp at Acre, only then to die of a fever himself. Yes, I realize you know all this, but indulge me. When Duke Leopold and the Austrians arrived several months later, he took command of the Germans as the highest-ranking vassal of the emperor. So when you treated his banner with such blatant disrespect, you were insulting the Germans as well as the Austrians. Many of the men in the great hall think that you maligned Duke Leopold’s courage and have contempt for all those of German blood.”