Joanna (54 page)

“That is what the archbishop intends, but I am sure it will not be so easy. The outcome will depend upon the behavior of the men here in the north, I think.

“What do you mean?”

Geoffrey repeated with emphasis Langton’s argument that since no man had threatened or attacked the king there had been no rebellion. “Those of us who wish for peace believe that John will do all in his power, short of using arms, to tempt an attack upon him. Then he will be able to use Langton’s own words to gag him and take what revenge he likes.”

“I do not know. I do not know,” Ian muttered. “You think he will come hereand then what?”

“He will camp, march about, perhaps even demand quartering for his men,” Geoffrey said slowly. “I do not believe he will raid or do any damage more than can be blamed upon a few undisciplined men. Certainly, he will not threaten battle or demand yielding of any keep. Well, I know he cannot do that. Even as I rode out, I saw priests and monks going among the men of the army and telling   them that if they fight, except to defend themselves against attack, the archbishop of Canterbury in his own person would excommunicate them and condemn them to hell.”

Ian rubbed his hands together nervously. “Then all that is required is that the king’s presence should be ignored. If no one attacks him, he will not attack. Perhapsjust perhapsI can bring it off! They may arm and close themselves into their keeps. So long as they do not speak at all or speak sweet words, they need do no more. Very well. I must go at once” He stared past Geoffrey. “I must go in two directions at the same time. God! I am so tired.”

Geoffrey looked at his father-by-marriage and was suddenly aware that Ian was not an invincible and tireless god. He was a man, and no longer a young man. Here and there were threads of silver that gleamed among the black curls. There were ugly gray patches under his dark eyes, and his cheeks seemed to have fallen in.

“Can I go either way for you, my lord?” Geoffrey asked.

“How long can you be absent from court without danger?” Ian wanted to know.

“I doubt time will make much difference,” Geoffrey replied drily. “If John wishes to take offense, he will be no angrier for a week than for a day. And my father knows where I am and what my purpose is.”

Ian was not sure himself whether the sigh he uttered was of relief or regret. He was sorry that Geoffrey’s very necessary action would probably reawaken John’s hatred, but since it was already so he might as well make sure that the hatred had not been stirred in vain. The next day Ian rode off to try to bring Vesci’s men to see reason and Geoffrey went to propose the same things to the remainder of Ian’s vassals.

To the great benefit of the nation, they were successful. John spent the next two weeks vainly marching his army up and down the hills of Lancashire and Yorkshire without gaining so much as an angry look or word. Again crisis was averted, but the breach between king and nobles grew wider and deeper. Well aware that his intervention had merely   placed a plaster over a festering sore without cleaning it, Langton made a strong effort at the council called to meet at London on August 25 to provide a basis for a more stable, more permanent relationship between the king and his barons.

He invited a number of the most influential lords to come to him so that he might better understand and perhaps help solve their differences with the king. Every man invited came, and came promptly. There was nothing secret in the meetings. Openly avowed king’s men were invited as well as those who complained against John. Naturally, the most eager were men like Ian and Geoffrey, who could neither bear the king’s ways nor bear to violate their oaths of fealty to him.

Three main results came out of the meetings. The first was a clear statement of how the barons wanted a king to act. The second was to give the archbishop a most accurate and rather unpleasant picture of the king he felt it his duty to guide. Among the points made in the statement, the first mentioned and the unanimous support given to the desire for assurances against imprisonment and injustice did not trouble Langton much. Every king, even the Holy Father, was accused of those faults because the guilty cried that they were put upon unfairly even more loudly than the innocent.

What surprised Langton was the prominence given to protection of daughters and widows and the passion with which the incorporation of separate mention of women, as distinct from other heirs, was urged. Generally, females were not worth mentioning in a state document, yet John’s men devoted two separate, special articles to them and grew pale or red with passion in pressing their point when the archbishop questioned the need. That special protection for women should be mentioned and defined even before the question of service overseas and scutage, which had been the overt causes of a near rebellion, had an unpleasant significance.

The third result was one unknown to the participants in the archbishop’s conferences. John promptly dispatched an   emissary to the pope complaining that Langton was plotting against him with his nobles. A substantial sum of money went with the messengers together with the reminder that the attempt to curb the king’s power was directed as much against Innocent as against himself. If his knights could not be ordered to fight overseas, he pointed out, it would be impossible for him to go on crusade or to supportthe pope in any struggle that should arise on the Continent. Consoled by the expectation that he would soon wield a whip that would tame Langton, John maintained his outward calm and even seemed to consider the proposals the archbishop made as a basis for a permanent peace with the barons.

A golden autumn followed. Harvests were plentiful and cattle grew fat in the fields where sun and rain succeeded each other in perfect proportion. The boughs of the trees hung low with the heavy burden of ripe fruit and nuts carpeted the ground below the hazel hedges and walnut trees. Gazing upon their full granaries, their bulging cellars, their enormous hay ricks, and their fat food animals, the barons began to think less harshly of a little martial exercise well away from their own rich lands. Perhaps it would not be so bad an idea to fight Philip in Poitiers. It would not be impossible to win back Normandy and, in any case, France was rich. There should be handsome booty to be had.

While the smaller landlords’ attitude thus softened toward the king’s desire, the great barons also came around to believing that a war in France might not be worth opposing. The king’s absolute fixity of purpose over so many years discouraged opposition. Sooner or later the attempt would have to be made, and this time truly seemed the best. Although Philip’s forces were no longer in such disarray as they had been in the spring, the coalition that Renaud Dammartin had worked so long to form was now well-wielded together, and the leaders were ready to press their advantage by attacking Philip from the northeast. If John attacked from Poitiers and the Emperor Otto from Flanders, Philip would be torn in two and likely to be beaten on both fronts.   Moreover, the matter of the withdrawal of the northern barons without permission and the charter hung, as it were, suspended. It was understood without words that if the king got his way in the matter of the war with France, he would forget the controversy over the withdrawal. His attitude toward the charter was more ambivalent, but not unreasonable. It contained nothing, except for the provision about serving overseas, that he had not promised many times before. However, these things had never before been written down and sealed so that the words might be read aloud at some other time. In the past, knowledge of the promises had rested on the memories of witnesses, some of whom could always be counted upon to contradict the others. A written charter could not have doubts cast upon it and might be inconvenient.

Geoffrey and Joanna had been summoned from Hemel, where they had finally taken up residence once the most immediate threat of rebellion was past, to a family conference at Salisbury. Ian and Alinor were also there so that they could decide upon a unified stand to take on these questions. On the subject of the charter, there was no difference of opinion; all approved the idea heartily, even Salisbury. On the question of the war with France, the men were all on one side, the women all on the other.

‘‘Of course, it is possible that we will lose more than we will gainwhen was it ever otherwise with war?” Ian retorted angrily to a piece of reasoned pleading by Alinor, “but it does not matter. If John summons me, I will go. I came near to personal treason last spring to avert a civil war. Certainly, I will not violate my oath, or even seem to do so, for a lesser cause. I tell you, it is my duty, and I will go.”

“But you yourself helped write the charter which says that it is
not
your duty to go,” Lady Ela pointed out, her voice trembling.

“The king has not acknowledged the charter,” Ian reminded her grimly.

“And you know that does not matter to me,” Salisbury put in gently, patting his wife’s shoulder. “Charter or no   charter, if John asks something of me that I can with honor perform, I must do it. Nay, Ela, do not weep. He has given me everythingeven you, my dear. How can I deny him what is so near his heart and a thing that is no way wrong or unwise?”

Eyes turned to Geoffrey, who was leaning back in a chair fondling Brian’s head, which rested in his lap. He flushed slightly when he realized both older men were waiting for him to speak, according him full rights as an adult member of the group. He was quick enough to take command on his own, but in the presence of his father and his lord was content to obey. Apparently, however, he must pull his own weightor, he thought sardonically, glancing at the faces of the women, share the blamein this decision.

“Oh, I will go,” he said indifferently. “I never thought so ill of a war against Philip in France, and now that we have strong allies, plenty of ships and supplies, it is a good time.”

The decisions and reasoning of the men were as characteristic as the reactions of the women. Ela sobbed disconsolately. She did not argue or plead. Occasionally, if his purpose was not really fixed, Ela could change Salisbury’s mind, but she did not hope for that in this case. Once he had brought out the argument of his debt to his brother, nothing would move him. She wept because she was afraid and because it was a relief to her.

“Then I go also,” Alinor said.

“Alinor” Ian protested despairingly.

Since Joanna was old enough to be a really satisfactory deputy, Alinor had accompanied her husband everywhere, but not actually to war. In Ireland, she stayed either with her vassal or with Pembroke’s wife, Isobel, who was her oldest and dearest friend. This was the most unreasonable stand Alinor had ever taken, yet Ian knew no way of stopping her from doing what she said. If he refused to take her, she would follow on her own, which was far more dangerous. Seeing the horror in her husband’s eyes and in Salisbury’s, Alinor began to laugh.   “Not to the battlefield, my love,” she explained. “Isabella has suggested that I make one of her party. She likes me because I know how to amuse her and do not sleep with Johnnot that she would much object to the latter, but it makes for case of speech between us. I will go with the queen.”

“Who said Isabella would go?”

“She does go,” Salisbury confirmed. “Prince Henry will remain in the care of Peter of Winchester, Pembroke, and the legate, but John takes Isabella, Richard, his daughters, and Alinor of Brittany. Henry will be here as a symbol of the king, and he will be safe because there would be no purpose in seizing him while Richard and the others are safe with John.”

There was a momentary silence while this remark was digested. Everyone knew the truth. John was not at all fond of his eldest son, so holding him to ransom or as hostage could have little effect in controlling the king so long as his second heir was safe in his own hands. It was a pity. There was much good in young Henry, but he was learning deceit and how to shift blame to others from the unfortunate relationship he had with his father. The fact that the boy had a quick mind and a pliable nature only made matters worse. He half understood far too much of what went on around him while he was yet too young to see the deeper significance of the conflicts.

“But is it wise to bring Isabella into France where Hugh de Lusignan” Ian began.

Salisbury shrugged. “I raised the point that Lusignan might regard that as an insult, seeing that John married the girl only a week or so before she was supposed to marry Hugh, but it is so many years. And John” Salisbury shrugged again. “He watches her. I do not know why, she is so stupid”

Joanna could have solved that puzzle, but she did not really hear what Salisbury said. She sat and plied her needle in silence, as was fitting. Her expression was placid, her hand steady, and her eyes, which might have told a different   story, were fixed upon her work. She had hoped that Salisbury and Ian would order Geoffrey to stay to deputize for them in case an emergency should arise here in England. The hope had flamed high when, after Salisbury had described the king’s arrangements about troops, he had raised this point.

“No,” Geoffrey protested. “While Pembroke, Winchester, and Langton hold the reins of government, there can be no great upheaval. In all small matters Joanna can manage very well if she has Sir Guy to lead the men in actual fighting. If she should need more daring advice, she can call upon Adam. He is near seventeen now and I warrant he is sound for the task of defending a keep or driving away attackers even if he be not ripe for leading a great battle. I measured him last winter when we feared invasion. So well had he dealt with Kemp and the men on his other lands that I had naught to say to him.”

It was not unexpected that Salisbury would accept this view eagerly. He was near fifty and beginning to feel the weight of his years, and he had become very dependent upon Geoffrey as an aide. Joanna glanced despairingly at Ian, but he only smiled reassuringly at her.

“You do not need to worry, my love,” he comforted. “I dare swear Geoffrey has judged the matter correctly to a hairsbreadth. Winchester is John’s man, but he is wise also. He will squeeze those who remain until they cry out, but not so hard they will dare take up arms against William of Pembroke. Moreover, Langton will watch over all. I know John has not invested him with any of the power that rightfully goes to the archbishop and that the legate has appointed priests on John’s recommendation in spite of Langton’s will. Nonetheless, both Winchester and the legate understand that Langton has the trust of the barons, even those most bitterly opposed to John who will not come with him. If Langton speaks out against something, the king’s deputies will listen. You need not fear that there will be any serious disorder in England.”