Виктория Холт - The Follies of the King

‘He questions everything,’ the Queen insisted.

‘Of course he does. He is very conscious of being King. But he is too young, too unversed in statecraft and the ways of the world. He will be a boy for a year or so yet.’

‘He is not like his father, you know. He is clever. He learns quickly.’

‘My dearest, do not fret about him. We shall know how to handle him when the time comes.’

‘And his father? I worry about him.’

‘Worry about the prisoner of Kenilworth! He will never rise to power again.’

‘But he lives. What if he should rally men to his side?’

‘Edward? My love, you cannot mean that. He is despised by all men. The people are delighted with their young King and their new rulers. They are devoted to you. Have you forgotten how they cheer you when you go into the streets?’

‘The Londoners have always been faithful to me, I know. But can you trust the people? They are for you one day and against you the next.’

‘They have long been faithful to you.’

‘Because they hated Edward’s friends, and he never made any effort to please them.’

‘Come, my dearest, let us think of other more pressing matters.’

Mortimer laughed aloud as he held her dose to him. He knew how to divert her thoughts. She was a woman whose sexual appetites were insatiable and for so long they had been suppressed; now that she had found the mate who was completely in tune with her he could divert her thoughts with amazing ease. Her ambition was great but slightly less so than her desire for Roger Mortimer. He exulted in it, exploiting to the full the power this gave him.

But although for the time her thoughts could be turned in one direction there were occasions when she thought with increasing apprehension of her prisoner husband.

She began to notice as she rode through the streets that the people were less enthusiastic. She even heard murmurings against the newly created Earl of March. Roger was too rapacious. She realized there could be danger when she heard the whisper that it was Gaveston and the Despensers all over again, for the King and his lover had been replaced by the Queen and hers. She fancied too that young Edward’s manner was changing towards her. She believed he was asking those around him questions concerning his father. He was growing up.

Since the coronation he had grown very serious, leaving all his boyish pastimes, studying state papers and acting like a king.

It was all very well for Roger to say that they were in complete control.

They might hold the reins at the moment but their young stead was getting frisky and at times she felt him trying to jerk himself out of his leading strings.

Then her thoughts would go to the prisoner in Kenilworth.

She determined to talk seriously to Roger. She would not allow him to lure her into a sensuous mood. This matter was vital and she was determined to make him see it as she did herself. She was a woman, she said, with a woman’s intuition and she smelt danger in the air.

‘Listen to me, my gentle Mortimer. I have heard that Lancaster and the King grow close together. They are cousins, remember, and Lancaster will not forget tbat Edward was once a king. It is said that they spend long hours talking together. Of what do you think they talk?’

‘Of what did Edward talk to his dear friends?’

‘You cannot compare Lancaster with Gaveston and Despenser. Lancaster is a man of power. He could become like his brother who, you could say, ruled this land at one time. Roger, I want Edward removed from Kenilworth.’

Roger was thoughtful.

‘Yes,’ insisted the Queen. ‘They are together too much. He is not treated as a prisoner. They may well be plotting together. My son will be going to Scotland soon. It is expected of him. They are going to force him to act as his grandfather did and you know how he hammered the Scots. Lancaster must be recalled to join Edward’s army and that means that he can no longer be the custodian of the prisoner king. Come, my dear, tell me whose charge my tiresome husband should be put into.’

Mortimer was thoughtful. Then he put his arm about the Queen and kissed her lips.

‘As usual you are right,’ he said. ‘We must be watchful. Lancaster is too close to him. First we will remove him from Kenilworth. Let the King call Lancaster to confer on the Scottish expedition. I have it. My daughter’s husband Thomas Berkeley shall be the jailer. My daughter’s husband will wish to please me. Edward shall be taken to Berkeley Castle. I can promise you that he will not be treated there as an honoured guest.’

‘As usual, gentle Mortimer, you succeed in calming my fears.’

‘Then,’ said Mortimer, ‘this coming day I shall set this thing in motion. Our prisoner shall be sent to a more rigorous prison where he will find jailers not in the least inclined to be his friends.’

The Queen said: ‘He deserves no kindness. He humiliated me bitterly for many years. If you but knew―’

‘My love, my love, I know full well. He turned from the most beautiful woman in the world to his despicable boys. But it is all over now, Isabella.

Sometimes I wonder whether we could have known the fullness of our joy in each other if we had not had to wait for it.’

She was ready to be soothed, to be made love to.

She exulted in Mortimer.

Edward was glad that the winter was over. His cousin had seen that he did not suffer too much from the cold as he might well have done. In the chamber where they met and played chess there was always a great fire and there were furs for Edward’s bed and others in which to wrap bimself when the wind whistled about the castle walls.

Lancaster was changing, growing fond of his captive. He was beginning to ask himsehf whether it had been such a good exchange of rulers after all. Even in Kenilworth there came rumours of Mortimer’s arrogance, of the blatant manner in which he and the Queen openly lived in adultery. Mortimer was not only the most powerful man in the land, he was fast becoming the richest.

Avarice had been the downfall of both Gaveston and the Despensers. But here was as greedy and grasping a man as had ever gone before.

The more dissatisfied Lancaster grew with the Queen and her paramour the more sympathetic he became towards his pathetic prisoner.

One May day when he had risen from his bed he found that visitors had arrived at the castle. He received them immediately for they came from the court. He was quickly informed that the King wished him to prepare to leave Kenilworth and join him in London. His counsel was needed with regard to the Scottish campaign.

Lancaster was surprised. ‘What of my prisoner?’ he asked. ‘Am I to bring him with me?’

Nay, was the answer. Within the next few days Sir Thomas Berkeley and Sir John Maltravers would be arriving at the castle. They would take over the Earl of Lancaster’s duties.

Lancaster nodded slowly.

He had known that at some time Edward would be taken out of his charge.

He did not greatly care for the task which lay before him of informing Edward that they were to part.

He looked with compassion on the tall thin figure— now almost gaunt, with the dark shadows under the faded blue eyes.

‘Thomas, cousin,’ murmured Edward, ‘they are going to take me away from you.’

‘It was to be expected,’ said Lancaster. I have my duties. I am to join the King.’

Edward closed his eyes and the lines of despair were obvious about his mouth. Then he opened them and the stark fear in them deeply disturbed Lancaster.

‘It is because you have been too kind to me,’ he said fiercely.

‘I am told the King commands me to join him.’

‘And we know who commands the King.’