The Prince of Darkness (27 page)

He ought to have thought more about Arthur. Now William des Roches was working against him and the Lusignans were on the warpath, the situation was growing more and more uneasy.

But Arthur was the great menace.

Something would have to be done about Arthur. To think that that silly young boy could cause him so much concern! At least
there was something in John’s favour; Arthur was his prisoner. If he were of less importance how easy it would be to get him out of the way, but if he were to disappear there would be such an outcry that the whole of Europe would rise up in its indignation. The fact that Arthur was little more than a child would be played on; one could imagine wily Philip making the most of that factor. All the same he must take some action.

Preoccupation with the subject of Arthur got between him and his pleasures; he would think of the boy during the night even, imagining someone rescuing him from Falaise and spiriting him away, getting him to Brittany or the Court of France, and with so many enemies ready to go into action all about him, this made uneasy pondering.

He sought about in his mind for someone whom he could trust and his thoughts alighted on Hubert de Burgh. Hubert was a nephew of the Lord of Connaught who had been a steward to Henry II and found favour with him for good service. Thus Hubert had been noticed by Richard I and when John came to the throne and was pretending to think of marriage with the daughter of the King of Portugal, Hubert was a member of the embassy which was sent to that country.

John’s behaviour with regard to that embassy had been to say the least cynical, for while his envoys were actually in Portugal he had married Isabella, which could have meant that the outraged King was so angry that he could have vented his wrath on John’s servants. Such behaviour was not unknown and the members of the embassy were well aware of it. The King of Portugal, however, incensed as he naturally was by such an insult, was too civilised to lay the blame just out of spite where it did not belong and the embassy was allowed to return to England in safety.

Hubert de Burgh had shown no resentment of this behaviour, John had noticed, which was strange as Hubert was not a meek man. He was one who cared for the welfare of his country and believed it was his duty to save his king but if he disagreed on a point he would not hesitate to show his disapproval. John’s father Henry II and his brother Richard I had cherished such men and in his heart John knew that they were right to do so. The Marshal was such another. He had disapproved of giving Hugh de Lusignan his freedom and he had been right. John saw that now, but only in a measure. It did show the world that he bore him no rancour and that meant that he felt himself to be secure in Isabella’s regard. The fact that he had paraded Hugh before her in chains had set people wondering if he harboured some jealousy of such a handsome man. At least, he consoled himself, in freeing Hugh he had stopped that rumour. Marshal would say it was folly to allow his personal feelings to affect the holding of his dominions. But Marshal had never – poor man – known the spell of a woman like Isabella.

But he must stop thinking of Isabella and concentrate on State matters. Where was he? Hubert de Burgh! Yes, he was the man. Hubert would do what he thought right for the good of his king and his country.

He sent for Hubert de Burgh, and he made sure that they were absolutely alone and that there was no possibility of anyone’s hearing the conversation between them.

‘Hubert, my good man, it pleases me to see you.’

‘And I to see you, my lord. I trust you are in good health.’

‘As you see,’ said John. ‘I have sent for you because I am disturbed and you are going to serve me now as you have served me and my brother in the past. I know you are a man whom I can trust.’

‘Thank you, my lord.’

‘You must carry out my orders and know that by doing so you will serve me and your country well.’

‘That is my constant aim,’ said Hubert sincerely.

‘You know full well that the situation here is not a happy one.’

‘No, but …’ Hubert paused. He could hardly say to the King: It has always been difficult to maintain a hold on the Continental dominions but if the King were to bestir himself, if he were with his soldiers instead of lying in bed all night and half the day with his wife, it could be different.

‘There is one whose presence is a constant menace to our safety here,’ went on John. ‘He’s a rallying point for my enemies. The King of France used him most shamefully. I refer to the Duke of Brittany.’

‘Indeed yes, my lord. There are these rival factions. But he is your prisoner now and Sir William de Braose and his wife are, I am sure, your trusted servants and will guard the Duke with the utmost care.’

‘I know, I know. But I need your help, Hubert. I want you to go to Falaise and take over the guardianship of Arthur.’

‘You are displeased with William de Braose?’

‘No, no. But I believe it is your turn to serve me there.’

Hubert was puzzled. He could not understand why he should be a so much better jailer than the Braoses.

John said slowly: ‘I want Arthur out of my way.’

Hubert looked startled and John went on quickly: ‘Nay, I do not wish you to kill the boy. That would be folly.’

‘It would also be murder, my lord.’

John frowned. So he was going to have scruples. He had a pious look in his eyes now. John said: ‘You have killed at some time, have you not?’

‘In battle,’ said Hubert. ‘That was different. I would not commit cold-blooded murder.’

‘That is something I would never allow,’ said John with mild piety. He had learned not to act so outrageously as he once had, for now, with the reputation he had, people were immediately suspicious. Now he had to show himself as a man with faults but who was not really bad at heart. ‘Why, my good Hubert, you and I would have no rest at nights if we cold-bloodedly murdered a boy – and my own nephew at that.’

Hubert looked a little easier. ‘If, my lord, you wish me to go down and take over the guardianship from Sir William de Braose I will do so at once.’

‘That’s what I wish. Then we have settled this point. Hubert, it grieves me, these battles which go on. You may have thought I have been remiss. Ah, do not deny it.’ (Hubert had made no attempt to because he most emphatically did believe this.) ‘I cannot bear to think of men done to death merely because they happen to serve a certain lord who wants a certain castle … I think of their wives, their children … They haunt me, Hubert.’

Hubert was silently thinking: And what of the prisoners in Corfe Castle? Do they haunt you?

‘And so,’ went on John, ‘I wish to end these wars. I want to live in peace with my people. I want my dominions to prosper. You are a good man, Hubert. Am I right in thinking that you want this too?’

‘I do, my lord, as any man of good sense must.’

‘Then we are of like mind. But this happy state of affairs cannot be while Arthur could escape at any moment and if he did … think of the enemies who would rally round him. War … wars … It would go on for years.’

Hubert nodded sadly.

‘If Arthur were no more …’ John saw Hubert’s lips set firmly in a stubborn line. He wouldn’t kill the boy. He would be afraid to, and in a way he was right, for what an outcry there would be. It would be almost like the death of Thomas à Becket all over again. John inwardly smirked to picture himself doing the penance his father had done. Not likely, thought John. I’d see them all in hell first. But he went on: ‘Arthur exists and while he exists this danger will be there. My plan is to minimise the danger, and in this you will help me. You will because you want peace and prosperity for my people even as I do.’

‘I will do anything to bring this about, my lord.’

‘My thanks, Hubert. You have given me your word and I know you to be a man of honour who will not go back on it. So … you will go to Falaise. You will guard Arthur and in due course you will render him powerless to take the throne from me and so restore peace to our troubled lands.’

‘How so, my lord?’

‘By putting out his eyes and castrating him. No one would want a blind king, and one who could not produce heirs would not be welcome. Therefore we shall reduce Arthur to … nothing …’

Hubert had grown pale.

John said: ‘That’s all, Hubert. You may go now. Go to Falaise, take over the guardianship and … not immediately … but in due course … in five or six weeks shall we say, you will send me a message. The deed is done. Then you will have served your country well.’

‘My lord, I …’

‘You will not go unrewarded … either way.’ John laughed.
‘You know me well. You can trust me to reward you … for your services.’

Hubert was like a man in a daze.

He stumbled out of the King’s presence.

Hubert de Burgh was riding to Falaise.

What can I do? he asked himself. Five or six weeks. Thank God, not yet! There is time to think, to see for myself what can be done.

The sly look in his eyes when he talked of reward! He meant if you do not work for me you are working against me. What a monster it was they had put on the throne.

It is true that if Arthur were not there the throne would be safer for John. All those who rose against him used Arthur as a pretext. If Arthur did not exist there would be peace. Thousands of lives would be saved all for the cost of one.

But Arthur was to live. Hubert thought of a poor sightless boy groping his way about a cell; and he was the one to give the orders that this should be done.

How can I? he asked himself as he rode along. And then: How can I not?

In due course he reached the castle.

He was greeted by Sir William de Braose and his forthright lady.

‘Why has the King decided to change Arthur’s jailer?’ asked Matilda.

‘I know not,’ replied Hubert, for he was wondering why, if such an order had been given to him, it should not have been to William de Braose. He wondered what Sir William’s reactions would have been but he dared not ask. He dared not
mention the matter. Not that he wanted to. It sickened him so much that he wanted to thrust it out of his thoughts.

‘But you are glad to be relieved of the duty?’ asked Hubert.

‘I like not to be jailer to a royal boy,’ said Sir William.

‘He’s a child at heart,’ said Matilda quite fondly. ‘I’m beginning to feel he is like one of my own. He needs affection, that boy. I think he could be happy if no one had ever talked to him about a throne and let him play and learn to be a knight like someone of simpler birth.’

‘I can see you have been kind to him.’

‘Who knows,’ said Sir William, ‘when the tables might be turned.’

But it was not only this thought, Hubert knew, which had made them care for the boy. There was a tenderness in most people for the young.

He was taken to the rooms in which Arthur was confined, and Sir William presented him.

‘This is Hubert de Burgh who is coming to take our place.’

The boy received Hubert with a touch of hauteur. Poor child, thought Hubert, you little know what fate is in store for you. For all his dignity young Arthur was summing up his new jailer and Hubert’s heart smote him, for behind the regal manner cowered a frightened boy. How shall I do it? he kept asking himself. How can I do that to such a child … ? Could I do it to the veriest villain? Perhaps. But to a boy. God help me.

Two days later the Braoses left.