The Prince of Darkness (46 page)

‘You think he would agree?’

‘No. But why should he not believe his bedfellow is you when it is someone else?’

‘Oh, Eustace, how clever you are!’

‘’Tis not done yet. Let us not be hasty, but give much thought to this matter. If we could select the woman, bathe her, dress her hair, perfume her body … is it possible, think you, that we could deceive him?’

‘He has seen very little of me,’ said Margaret, ‘and I think this mad desire is partly to discountenance you and to prove to my father that even his daughter dare not refuse him. I am sure he could be deceived.’

‘He
must
be deceived,’ declared Eustace. ‘We will select one of the whores, dress her up and send her to him. There is no time to lose. She will need a little tuition. But I intend him to be so intoxicated with wine, so heavy with food that his powers of
observation will be numbed; and in the morning early, you must set out on a journey. There must be no delay about that. And you will wait nearby until such a time as he shall have left the castle.’

Their very need seemed to endow them with special skills. They found the substitute whom they chose because her hair was very similar to Margaret’s. It was washed and perfumed and bound in the same way as hers. The woman was bathed and dressed in a robe of Margaret’s and well primed in her part.

It amused her and she was told that if she succeeded she would be well rewarded for the night’s work so she was determined to play her part to the very best of her ability.

That night John supped well and drank deeply. Margaret, on his right hand, Eustace on his left, plied him with wine. He was delighted with Margaret and anticipated the night’s adventure with excitement. He looked from one to the other with undisguised pleasure.

As the night wore on, Margaret whispered that she would go to his bedchamber and there await him. He nodded a little drowsily and turned to smile at Eustace.

‘After tonight, my friend,’ he said, ‘you and I will have shared our experiences. I know the lady will please me as she has pleased you.’

Eustace led him to the door of the bedchamber. There Margaret’s substitute awaited him. There was a little moonlight coming through the narrow slit of a window. Not enough to show him his companion’s face. He did not doubt for a moment that it was Margaret for she was dressed exactly as the baron’s wife had been and her hair was worn in a similar manner.

He kicked the door shut and fell upon her.

Had he been a little more sober he might have been surprised at her response, which was hardly what it would have been had the woman been Eustace’s wife.

He was amused and exultant. This would show his barons that they must bow to him no matter what he asked.

At dawn, Margaret left the castle and John’s night companion slipped out of his bed, her duty done and all that was necessary now was to collect her rewards. It had been a profitable night and some day she would be able to boast that she had slept with the King.

John awoke late in the morning. He remembered the previous night and laughed aloud.

He would not linger at the castle. He must move on.

He was in a good temper as he resumed his journey.

Chapter XVI

W
ith the passing of each week, John’s fortunes seemed more dismal. The barons were grumbling together about him and asking themselves how much longer they were going to endure the rule of a king who believed he could make free with their wives and impose on them the most ridiculous fines which were in fact bribes and impositions.

The members of the Braose family would never forget the fate of Matilda and her son. To put a woman of her age into a dungeon and leave her to starve to death was monstrous, when her only fault had been to refuse the money which was demanded of her family and to defy the King in this matter of sending members of her family as hostages. Very understandable, was the verdict, when one considered the fate of Arthur. And it seemed that everyone now was considering the fate of Arthur. Philip of France was demanding that the young Duke be produced, knowing full well that he never could be. Anything that could be used to discredit John he was going to use.

Eustace de Vesci was arousing the barons against him; not that they needed much rousing. They were only too ready to
accuse the King and many of them were meeting to discuss what could be done.

There was one who regretted the course events were taking and who determined to make yet another effort to save the monarchy. This was William Marshal and he came to see John.

The King, who was beginning to realise how friendless he was and that such friendlessness could mean he was in acute danger of losing his kingdom, welcomed the Marshal warmly.

‘My lord,’ said William, ‘I come to speak in a straightforward manner to you which you may not find very much to your liking. Yet speak I must for if something is not done with speed, I see disaster overcoming this country and your kingly house.’

‘You may speak as you wish,’ said the King.

‘Then I will say that it is folly to allow this state of affairs to drift as it is now. The barons are dissatisfied.’

‘A plague on the barons!’ muttered John.

‘You may wish a plague on them, my lord, but forget not that such would infect the entire country, as they are now beginning to infect it with their dissatisfaction.’

‘Who are they to show their displeasure?’ demanded John. ‘Am I their King or am I not?’

‘At this time yes,’ said the Marshal bluntly, ‘but who shall say for how long if matters drift along in the direction they are now set.’

‘You are over-bold, Marshal, for it would seem you are critical of me.’

‘I warned you I was over-bold. I ever have been, and if you are not prepared for my boldness it would be well for us both if I retired.’

‘Nay,’ said John, ‘say on.’

‘Think how we stand. Interdict! Excommunication! Inward turmoil, and perhaps most serious of all Philip awaiting his opportunity.’

‘By God’s ears, I would settle him if he dared set foot on this land.’

‘My lord, he has the whole of Normandy. There is little left to you overseas. For the love of your ancestors do not let England pass out of your hands.’

John was afraid. There was one man whom he could trust and that was the Marshal. He had to listen to him. He knew. He had to take his advice, for he knew it would be sound and that Marshal had nothing but the good of England at heart.

‘Trouble grew big with the quarrel with Rome,’ said Marshal. ‘My lord, your first step is to end that quarrel.’

‘How so?’

‘Accept Stephen Langton.’

‘I have sworn not to.’

‘It may be so, but, my lord, a crown is at stake. If you do not make peace with Rome in a short time a French king will take the crown of England. There are many here who would welcome Philip.’

‘Then surely they are traitors.’

‘They are men who are at war with the manner in which England is being ruled. There is so much they do not like. Be prepared for treason, my lord, where you least expect it.’

‘You, Marshal?’

‘I am here to save your kingdom for you, to give you my help and support which is not inconsiderable. Those who murmur against you, love this country. They would serve it well. But they murmur against unfair taxation, the interdict and excommunication and the manner in which you rule.
Therefore they believe it would be to the good of the country to take Philip as their King. This would restore Normandy to the crown and with all this and France, Philip would be the most powerful ruler in the world.’

‘And you ask me to go humbly to Innocent?’

‘I am convinced that now is the time to make peace with Rome.’

‘But this will mean breaking my word. I have vowed that never will I have Stephen Langton here.’

‘There are times, my lord, when it is wise and most expedient to break one’s word. This is one of them.’

‘What will people think of me?’

The Marshal’s lips curled. ‘No worse,’ he said bluntly, ‘than they do already.’

‘And you would urge me to make advances to the Pope, to admit my willingness to have Langton here?’

‘I would with all my heart,’ said the Marshal, ‘for I see clearly that if you do not, you will not long remain King of England.’

Marshal half expected him to fly into a rage. The fact that he did not suggested that he was really frightened of the position in which he found himself.

‘I will without delay send an embassy to Innocent,’ he said. ‘I will even take Langton.’

There was a great deal of excitement in Yorkshire at this time because an old man who was known as Peter of Pontefract claimed to have had a vision. Peter was a hermit who lived in a cave at the opening of which people left food for him; he was said to be a man of unusual powers.

He had prophesied that before Ascension Day King John would have ceased to reign. In view of the conditions which existed this did not seem an unreasonable prophecy and it was repeated throughout Yorkshire and began to filter into other counties so persistently that Peter of Pontefract was now known throughout the country.

Beset by difficulties, pondering on the warnings of the Marshal, John was filled with superstitious dread, and during his travels in the North he demanded that Peter be brought to him.

The old man gave no sign that he feared the King. He stood before him without respect or disrespect. He merely showed indifference.

John cried in a hectoring manner: ‘What is this talk you have circulated through the country concerning me?’

‘I have merely said what came into my mind,’ answered Peter. ‘If folks repeat it, ’tis naught to me.’

‘It is something to me,’ cried the King. ‘You say I will not be reigning after Ascension Day.’

‘’Tweren’t I as said it. ’Twere the voices.’

‘To whom do these voices belong, think you?’

‘To God, maybe, or to the powers.’

‘And how shall I lose my kingdom, pray?’ asked John.

‘That I know not,’ was the answer. ‘Only as you shall surely lose it.’

‘I believe you to be lying.’

‘’Tis not so, my lord.’

‘Do you know what is done to liars?’

Peter turned his eyes up to heaven and answered: ‘What is to be will be and what you do to me has not been revealed.’

‘You should tremble in your shoes, Peter of Pontefract.’

‘Nay, my lord, I but speak as I must and the spirits tell me. They say you shall reign no more after Ascension Day and that one more pleasing to God will be set on your throne.’

John lost his temper suddenly. ‘Take this man away,’ he shouted. ‘Throw him into a dungeon at Corfe.’

Peter was serene as they led him away.

‘You will know your fate on Ascension Day,’ John called after him. ‘You should start to pray for your soul now, fellow. For it will go ill with you then.’

Peter merely smiled and held the palms of his hands together as he was hustled away.