The Follies of the King - Plaidy Jean. Страница 6

They laughed, recalling their skirmishes with Langton who had,

unfortunately at the time, been in favour with Edward I.

‘Do you remember the time we broke into his wood?’ prompted Gaveston.

Edward did remember. There had been a great deal of trouble about that, and he recalled vividly his rage at the humiliation which been heaped on him at the time, for his father had been on the side of Langton over the affair.

It was characteristic that this man Langton whom young Edward had so

hated should be favoured by his father. The old King had had such a high

opinion of Walter Langton, and Lichfield, that he had made him his treasurer.

He would listen to his advice and often took it for he declared that the Bishop’s long experience was of great service to him.

Prompted by Gaveston, Edward had chosen Langton as a butt for his dislike.

As treasurer Langton was always questioning young Edward’s expenditure, nor was he averse to complaining to his father about it. It was galling that the old King took the treasurer’s side rather than that of his son and complained

Gaveston, treated the Prince as an erring schoolboy in the presence of the Bishop which made that old hypocrite more determined than ever to spoil his pleasures.

It was Gaveston who pointed out that Reynolds could be of use to them.

‘That other Walter,’ as Gaveston called him. As treasurer of the wardrobe

Walter Reynolds could contrive a little juggling over clothes which he was very willing to do. Indeed, Reynolds was very happy to put his scheming head

together with that of Edward and his minion and laugh over ways of deceiving the King and Langton.

It was only natural that when Edward and Gaveston were riding near Walter

Langton’s lands they should break into a wood of his and hunt the deer. They had not been without success and had just brought down a fine buck when

Langton’s gamekeepers had come upon them, surrounded them and in spite of

Edward’s protests that he was the Prince of Wales, had taken them, in a most humiliating fashion, to their master as though they were common poachers.

Moreover, even when he saw who the captives were, Langton had shown an

equal lack of respect.

‘How dare you trespass on my land and steal my deer?’ he had demanded.

Edward had replied haughtily, ‘These lands come to you through my

father’s grace. I am his heir and therefore claim the right to go where I will.’

Gaveston had nodded approvingly which gave Edward the courage he

needed to stand up to the formidable old Bishop

‘You have not stepped into your father’s shoes yet!’ cried the Bishop, ‘and I pray God the time will be long before you do. Let us hope that when that time comes— and it could be a tragedy for the nation— you will have learned more sense.’

Now this had been more than Edward could endure and he began abusing

Langton in somewhat coarse terms which seemed more amusing because they

were addressed to a bishop and Gaveston had been looking on, convulsed with laughter.

‘I can tell you this,’ the Bishop had replied, ‘the King will not endure your frivolous behaviour, your extravagant dalliance with companions who are no good to you?’

Gaveston had smirked and mincing up to the Bishop had struck a mock

pleading attitude which made Edward gasp with laughter.

The Bishop had turned a shade paler as he had said, ‘I shall report this

matter to the King.’

‘Pray do,’ Edward had replied, ‘and I shall report him the insolence of a

subject towards the King’s son.’

Langton had arrived first before the King. He had distraught and sorrowful and the King had been furious when he heard what had happened.

He sent for his son and the lights of the dangerous Plantagenet temper had been visible in his eyes. Young Edward was the one person who aroused that more than any other. The King’s voice could be heard through the palace and the things he said were very uncomplimentary to his son.

‘How dare you go into the Bishop’s woods? How dare you hunt his deer?

It’s a punishable offence. You know that.’

‘A King should hunt where he wishes,’ Edward had replied.

‘Remember this,’ thundered his father, ‘you are not yet a king. And I tell you there is considerable unease in this realm at the prospect of your becoming one. You will have to mend your ways or by God and all his angels, I will mend them for you.’

‘My lord, it is demeaning to our state?’

‘ It is demeaning. You are demeaning. You and your evil counsellors.’

Little darts of fear had entered Edward’s heart then. He had always been

afraid when the King’s thoughts turned to Gaveston.

He had become quieter, more humble. He had listened to his father’s tirade when he was told that he was banished from court, he had bowed his head and accepted the exile. It had been irritating, but it would be simply dreadful if his father began blaming Perrot and decided to part them.

He guessed that when his father did banish Gaveston— a few months before

his death— that this affair had first put the idea to do so in his head.

So now Perrot reminded him of the time they had broken into Langston’s

wood he remembered not only the incident but the parting with Perrot which had followed and a great anger rose in him against Langton who had been one of their worst enemies.

‘And he remains your treasurer,’ pointed out Gaveston. ‘Dear friend, you are too good to that old rogue.’

‘Someone will have to replace him.’

‘But indeed it is so and there is our old friend, that other Walter. He is just waiting for his chance, and sweet Prince, why should he not have it?’

‘Reynolds!’ cried the King.

‘Who else? Has he not served us? you? well?’

‘You are right. It shall be. Who shall we send for first?’

‘Let’s have our Sport with the Bishop.’

Edward slapped his thigh with excitement. How different from when they

had been taken to his presence like humble foresters. Now it was his turn.

‘Let’s tell Reynolds,’ said Gaveston. ‘We’ll hide him in the chamber and he can hear the great man receive his dismissal.’

‘You always think of the most amusing things, Perrot.’

‘It is my duty to amuse my lord. Sometimes I think my role is that of court jester.’

‘There never was a more handsome, witty and charming one? nor such a

rich one.’

‘There’s truth in that, I’ll swear. Now to the fun.’

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The Bishop received his dismissal with dignity. It was clear though that he would soon join up with Lancaster and Lincoln, Warwick and such malcontents who were already raising their eyebrows at the King’s preoccupation with

Gaveston even though Gaveston had been recently married. He was rarely with his wife and that marriage had obviously been a means of bringing him a

fortune.

‘I will be magnanimous, my lord,’ said the Bishop as he departing, ‘and ask God to help you.’

‘But, my dear Bishop,’ said Gaveston, ‘it is you who will need His help and I am sure that, seeing the pious life you have led, He will not deny it now.’

The Bishop ignored Gaveston. Poor Perrot, that angered him more than

anything. He could not bear to be treated though he were of no importance.

Walter Reynolds came in, rubbing his hands together.

‘My lords, my lords, it was as good as one of our plays. You showed him the door, indeed you did. I’ll warrant the old prelate is trembling in his shoes.’

‘Methinks he was expecting it, Walter,’ said Perrot. ‘He could not hope to go on in office after all he has done to our gracious King.’

‘Well, Walter,’ said Edward, ‘what would you say if I set you in the old

rogue’s shoes and made you my treasurer?’

Walter’s answer was to go down on his knees and kiss the King’s hand.