The Queen From Provence - Plaidy Jean. Страница 68

While she was turning this over in her mind and making plans to bring it about, more messengers came.

The barons felt that Dover might be a dangerous spot in view of its proximity to the Continent. They were therefore being moved to Wallingford.

She could have wept with rage, but very soon she was making fresh plans.

Her indefatigable efforts had won the admiration of a number of people and her devotion to her family was touching. Even those who found her overbearing were ready to work for her and thus there were plenty to bring her news of what was happening in England. The royal prisoners, she learned, were not so well guarded at Wallingford as they had been at Dover. One of Edward’s favourite knights had sent word to her that he would do anything to help the royal cause and she immediately decided to keep him to his word.

Sir Warren de Basingbourne was a young and daring fellow who had often jousted with Edward and whom she knew was devoted to her son.

‘Gather together as many men as you can,’ she wrote to him. ‘Go to Wallingford, lay siege to the castle – which I know to be ill defended. Rescue the lord Edward. He can then come to me here and place himself at the head of the army I am preparing.’

Eleanor excitedly settled down to await the arrival of her son.

Edward had never ceased to reproach himself. This disaster was due to his folly. It was no use his father’s trying to comfort him. It was clear that if he had not pursued the Londoners the victory would have gone to the King.

What folly! What harm inexperience could do!

Edward was a young man who quickly learned his lessons.

He thought often of his young wife with whom he was in love. It had been a marriage after his own heart. She had been so young at the time of the ceremony and he had seemed so much older to her that she had begun by looking up to him. They had been separated, it was true, while she completed her education and grew old enough to be his wife in truth. And then he had not been disappointed in her.

He believed she was now pregnant.

Poor little Eleanora – or Eleanor as they insisted on calling her, for their future Queen must have an English name – she would be fretting now, as he knew his mother was.

He was glad his cousin Henry was with him, although it would have been more satisfactory if he could have been free to work for the King. They played chess together; they were even allowed to ride out although only in the castle surrounds and in the company of guards. Simon de Montfort treated them with respect. He was always anxious for them to know that he had no intention of harming them, and that he merely wanted to see just rule returned to the country.

While they sat at the chess table one of their servants came running in. He was clearly very excited.

‘My lord,’ he said, ‘there is a troop of men marching on the castle.’

‘By God,’ cried Edward. ‘The country is rising against de Montfort.’

They rushed to the windows. In the distance they could see the horsemen making straight for the castle.

Someone said: ‘They are Sir Warren de Basingbourne’s men, I’ll swear.’

‘Then they come to save us,’ said Edward. ‘Warren would never place himself against me. He is my great friend.’

There was activity throughout the castle. At the turrets and machicolations soldiers were stationed. The alert ran through the castle. ‘We are besieged! Stand by for defence.’

It was frustrating for the prisoners to be unable to take part in the fighting as they were forced to listen to the shouts and the cries and the groaning of the battle engines as they went into action.

Edward heard his own name called.

‘Edward. Edward. Bring us Edward.’

His eyes were shining. ‘Our friends have risen at last,’ he said. ‘I knew it was only a matter of time. Our captivity is over.’

‘First they have to break the siege,’ Henry reminded him.

‘By God they will. We are poorly defended here.’

Half a dozen guards had come into the room.

They approached Edward.

‘What would you have of me?’ he demanded.

‘We but obey orders, my lord.’

‘And they are?’

‘Your friends out there are demanding that we bring you out to them.’

‘And you, knowing yourself beaten, are meeting their wishes?’

‘We are not beaten, my lord. But we are giving you to them. We shall bind you hand and foot, as we shall tell them, and we shall shoot you to them from the mangonel.’

Edward cried out in horror at the thought of being shot through this terrifying engine which was used for throwing down stones on the enemy. It would be certain death.

‘You do not mean this.’

‘It will be done, my lord, if your friends do not go away.’

‘Let me speak to them.’

The men looked at each other and one of them nodded and retired.

When he returned he said: ‘Orders are that your hands should be bound behind your back, my lord. Then we will take you to the parapet. From there you will speak to your friends. If you tell them to go away, your life will be saved.’

‘I will do it,’ he said, for indeed there was no alternative but terrible death. So they tied his hands and he stood on the parapet and told them that unless they wanted his death they must disperse and go away, for his captors meant that if he came to them it would be by way of the mangonel.

Sir Warren hastily retired; and when news of what had happened was sent to Eleanor she wept with anger.

Simon de Montfort came in all haste to Wallingford. The news of Basingbourne’s attempt had shocked him. It could so easily have succeeded. It had been a brilliant idea to threaten to shoot Edward out to them. However, an ill-defended castle was no place for such prisoners.

In the hall of the castle all the prisoners were brought to him.

‘My lords,’ he said, ‘I am grieved that you have been treated with less than respect. I assure you that it was no intention of mine.’

‘You do not make that intention very clear,’ retorted Edward.

‘I am sorry if you have not perceived it,’ replied Simon calmly. ‘It is true that your movements are restricted but I trust you lack no comfort here in the castle.’

‘You traitor,’ cried Edward. The others were silent. Simon shrugged his shoulders and turned to the King.

‘My lord, it was no wish of mine that this should have happened. The laws of the country must be justly administered. Our Parliament will do that and if we can come to some agreement …’

‘We shall make no agreements with you, my lord,’ said the King firmly.

‘Then I will continue with the matter of which I came to speak. You must prepare to leave Wallingford.’

‘Where is our next prison to be?’ asked Edward.

‘You are to go to Kenilworth.’

‘Kenilworth!’ cried Edward.

‘It is my own castle. Your aunt will receive you there. I think you will be happier with a member of your own family.’

The prisoners were silent. This was interesting. The King’s own sister was the chatelaine of Kenilworth. Surely she would be sympathetic to the members of her own family. But they had to remember that she was also Simon de Montfort’s wife.

They left that day for Kenilworth, where the King’s sister Eleanor de Montfort, Countess of Leicester, received them with affection.

‘At least,’ said Edward, ‘it will not seem as though we are prisoners here.’

‘Eleanor!’ Henry’s eyes filled with tears at the sight of his sister.

She embraced him and said, ‘Oh Henry, this is a sorry business. Richard, Edward, I would you had come here in different circumstances.’

‘Do not blame us for the circumstances,’ said Edward.

The King put up a hand to silence him. Simon de Montfort was Eleanor’s husband and they must not take it amiss because she was loyal to him.