The Follies of the King - Plaidy Jean. Страница 26

Her companions would have driven him away and she would have shrunk

from him but she hesitated. It might have been because of the child she carried that she was interested in children. She was not sure but there was something in the boy’s eyes which touched her unaccountably, for she was not a sentimental woman who brooded on the wrongs of others.

‘Nay,’ she said, ‘let the child speak. What would you have, boy?’

He answered, ‘I am hungry, Queen.’

‘Where is your father?’

‘Dead.’

‘And your mother?’

‘Dead too. The soldiers killed them. The Scots who came over the border.

They burned our cottage and took all we had.’

‘And they let you live?’

‘They didn’t find me. I was hiding in the bushes. They didn’t see me.’

‘Give this boy clothes and money to the value of six shillings and sixpence,’

she commanded.

‘My lady!’ cried her women. ‘He is a beggar with a beggar’s tales!’

‘He is a child,’ she answered, ‘and I believe him. Let it be done.’

The boy fell to his knees and kissed the hem of her gown.

She walked on, wondering at herself. There were many orphans in the

world. Why be upset by one?

But she was glad that the boy had stopped her. Then she was pleased that

she had acted as she had, for she heard the women talking together of her piety and good deeds. She must have the good opinion of her husband’s subjects.

When they turned from him they must look to her.

She thought a good deal about the boy and a few days later she wished to

know if her orders had been carried out regarding him and asked that he be brought to her.

He came in his new clothes and he stood before her staring at her in

wonderment.

‘Well boy,’ she said, ‘so you have eaten now and you have good clothes.’

His eyes filled with tears and he knelt and would have kissed her gown but she said: ‘Get up. Come and stand near me. Where do you sleep at nights?’

His eyes shown with pleasure. ‘There is an old hut. The Scots did not take the trouble to burn it. I found it. It offers shelter from the cold.’

She noticed how thin he was. He needed care. That much was obvious.

‘When I am gone from here,’ she said, ‘You could go hungry again.’

He nodded. Then he smiled: ‘But I shall always remember you. I shall never forget that I saw the Queen.’

‘When you are cold and hungry and bigger, stronger people turn you out of

the hut, you will forget me.’

‘I never will,’ he said fiercely.

‘You will always be my loyal subject then?’

‘I’d die for you, Queen.’

‘It was little I did,’ she said. ‘I would spend what I gave to you for ribbons on my waist.’

‘So should it be,’ said the boy, ‘for you are beautiful as no one ever was before you. You are a queen and an angel from heaven.’

She said: ‘So I am a queen to all but only an angel to you. I am going to

make you love me more, little Thomeline. You shall not again be hungry, nor sleep in the hut. How would you like to go to London? But how can you know?

You have no idea of what London is like, have you? I have an organist there. He is French and his name is Jean. He was a wife named Agnes. She longs for

children and could never have them. So I am going to give her a little boy and you a mother and father. How would you like that?’

‘Should I see you, Queen?’

‘It might well be that you would.’

‘Please, may I go?’

‘You shall go. You shall be well clothed and fed and taught many things.

You need good food, for you are not very strong. They will make you into a healthy boy.’

‘Will they want me as their boy?’

‘They will if I say they will.’

‘You can do anything, Queen,’ he said.

She had him bathed and dressed and she kept him with her awhile. She

enjoyed his adoration. It soothed the wound left by Edward’s desertion. The boy’s belief in her goodness and Lancaster’s obvious desire for her comforted her a good deal.

She had sent a messenger to her French organist, Jean, and his wife, Agnes, to tell them of the child’s coming and that she expected them to treat him as their own.

Then she sent him to London. He was reluctant to go, not because he did not want to, but because it meant leaving her. His life had taken on a bewildering turn? the orphan who had been obliged to fend for himself was now regularly fed; he was taking lessons. Now and then he sat with the Queen.

So when he must leave her, he was filled with sadness and although she too was sorry to see him go, she liked his feelings for her.

She marvelled at herself. She was not a soft and gentle woman. Perhaps it

was because she was going to have a child that she had concerned herself with Thomeline. And then his rapt adoration had been irresistible to her.

However there was a bond between them.

She thought: If the time came when I stood against Edward, there would be one of my loyal subjects.

‘Queen,’ he said, for she had liked him to address her thus and had never

stopped his doing so, ‘you have done everything for me. What can I do for you?’

She smiled at him gently. ‘Pray that I may have a healthy child? a boy who will love me even as you do.’

After he had gone, she thought what a pleasant interlude that had been.

???????

Edward and Gaveston had reached Scarsborough.

‘We could do no better than stop here,’ said Edward, and Gaveston agreed

with him.’

Scarsborough indeed provided a ideal refuge. As its name implied it was a

fortified rock. Above the bay rose a high and steep promontory on the highest point of which stood the castle. It had been built in the reign of King Stephen and Edward the First had often held splendid court there for it was easily accessible being a port, and from its harbour, ships were constantly coming and going in various directions. It was a castle in which to shelter and from which it might be possible to escape should that be necessary.

‘We shall be safe here, dear friend,’ said Edward, but he knew that their

refuge would be temporary and after they had rested from their journey and lay talking together they agreed that they could not hope to rest peacefully for very long.

In fact the day after their arrival, they discovered that the garrison manning the castle, although not openly disloyal to the King, were talking together of what they must do if the barons attempted to take the castle.

Rumours persisted that Lancaster and his men were on the way.

‘What can we do?’ cried Edward. ‘Do you think we can hold the castle?’

‘For a time, mayhap,’ replied Gaveston.

‘If I could gather together a force?’

‘You cannot do that here, my lord.’

‘Nay. But I am the king. I could rally men to my banner. They would

support the King. They do not like Lancaster. Do you think they would follow Pembroke or Warenne? Do you think the mad dog could raise an army against

us?’

‘They could,’ replied Gaveston. ‘But they might not if you had an army?

loyal men who supported the crown.’

‘Then I shall leave here. I shall go to York first. I shall gather together an army and then I shall come to Scarsborough and rescue you. You must hold out until I come.’

For a rare unselfish moment, Gaveston thought of what the King was

proposing to do. He would gather an army in order to oppose Lancaster and

those who came to take him, Gaveston. For his friend, the King was proposing to plunge into civil war.

He should stop him. This could lose Edward his crown. But where should

they go? Fly together? It was impossible. No, the only way was for Edward to defy the barons, to stand with his friend, to say to them: You have banished Gaveston, but I have taken him back. I have reinstated him and I am the King.