Stewart Binns - Lionheart

‘Empress Matilda and I fought all our lives to ensure that her son, Henry Plantagenet, would succeed to the throne that she was never quite able to grasp. Thankfully, that came to pass and King Henry now unites us all – English and Norman, all the Celtic peoples of our islands, and many other peoples from south of Normandy, all the way to the Pyrenees. He has ruled his great Plantagenet Empire wisely and fairly. And through his mother’s English royal blood, he has ensured that every Englishman can look upon him as one of their own.’

The Earl’s eyes began to moisten and his voice cracked with emotion. He slowly hauled himself up from his chair, walked away from the fire and paused before continuing.

‘But the King won’t live for ever. He is now in his mid-forties and is beginning to lose the vigour he once had. His sons are very troublesome to him, and I fear that the peace we have enjoyed throughout the Empire under his rule may not survive his death.’

Three years earlier, three of Henry’s sons had campaigned against him. I was not involved in the rebellion, because I had been assigned to the King’s personal bodyguard at Westminster – and most of the fighting took place in Normandy and the surrounding provinces – but it had been a time of great anxiety when many thought the Empire would disintegrate. Even though the King prevailed, and his sons were reconciled to him, many said it was only a matter of time before the issue would come to the fore once more.

‘As you know, the King has kept Queen Eleanor under house arrest these last two years and I fear for her and for the future of the realm. She is a formidable woman with many admirers; the King would be wise not to continue to see her as an enemy, lest she becomes one he cannot control.’

‘My Lord, I have seen her at court many times. She is, indeed, daunting and very beautiful. I hear she is currently held at Sarum Castle.’

‘She is, but she is well treated. She has a huge entourage, all of whom are free to come and go, and she is constantly entertained by the troubadours and poets from the Court of Love she kept at Poitiers.’

I had heard much about the Queen’s court at Poitiers. Every knight in Europe talked about its code of chivalry and how the young knights swore oaths of undying loyalty and love to their fair maidens. At Poitiers, the most esteemed knights were not just the ones who were brave in battle, but also those who could compose and sing ballads expressing their eternal love for their ladies.

‘As you know, Prince Henry is heir to the throne. But he is only interested in prancing at tournaments and cavorting with girls, he is not the man to follow his father in controlling an empire half the size of Europe.’

‘But, my Lord, is he not already crowned and anointed as our sovereign?’

‘He is, but he is the Young King only in name. He can’t be our true King while his father lives, and certainly not while he acts like a juvenile.’

‘But, sire, he’s only twenty-one years old. There will be plenty of time for him to become a mature leader.’

‘I disagree. If you are a crowned king, even while your father lives, you should act like one.’

Although kindly in demeanour and as old as Methuselah, the Earl took on the unmistakeably fierce look of a seasoned warrior.

‘We need a king who has the courage to lead his men in battle, not a mannequin in the fancy dress of the tournament.’

There had been a flash of anger on the Earl’s face. But it soon subsided, to be replaced by his usual sagacious warmth.

‘But there is a man of valour… and one day he will be the King we need.’

I looked at Father Alun again. He nodded his approval with a benign smile. The Earl returned to his seat by the fire and threw more logs into its heart.

‘I feel the cold these days. When I was younger, no amount of cold bothered me, but now I have to look after myself like a newborn baby, heavily swaddled and kept close to the fire!’

He sat back in his chair and stared at the roaring fire, which crackled and spat with energy.

‘The young man in question is like this fire. He burns with ambition and courage. His mother, Queen Eleanor, is wary of my interest and has kept me at arm’s length, but I’ve watched him grow from a distance. He is prodigious. Still only nineteen, but he’s been leading his army in Aquitaine for three years and they already call him “Lionheart”. He’s tall like all his kin, with hair the golden red of a lion’s coat and a beard the dark tinge of the beast’s mane.’

I had heard the name ‘Lionheart’ before. His reputation was already known among my fellow knights. He was Richard, Duke of Aquitaine, King Henry’s third son and, after the early death of his elder brother, William, was now second in line to the throne.

‘Sire, I have heard of this man. But I believe he spends all his time in his dukedom, many miles from England.’

‘You are correct. That is part of the problem that must be solved. Duke Richard was born at Beaumont Palace, in Oxford, but has spent very little time in England. He does not speak our language and, from what I hear, thinks our precious land is a dismal, godforsaken place off the coast of civilized Europe. He thrives in Aquitaine, where he loves the warmth, the wine and the women. He likes to fight and relishes its lawlessness and the challenge of the many formidable adversaries he finds there.’

I was now perplexed. If the task was to persuade the Duke of the value of his English pedigree, it appeared that the Earl needed a sophisticated diplomat rather than a soldier.

‘My Lord, are you suggesting that I can play a role in the life of the Duke?’

‘I am.’

The Earl was quick to see my furrowed brow.

‘Don’t be concerned, there is logic to my plan. But it does require some guesswork on my part and, I admit, for providence to play a role. However, there are several precedents for fate playing a major part in my family’s history.’

He paused to stare at me keenly.

‘It will also involve a leap of faith on your part, but I will leave that to your judgement. If you accept this commission, you will do me and England a great service. This young Duke has the world at his feet. He has good men around him, but they are not men who can help him understand and appreciate his English pedigree, a lineage that is far more important than he realizes. For that, he needs you and Alun.’

With an earnest intensity, Father Alun then spoke for the first time.

‘I have made my leap of faith. For me there could not be a more important calling in life.’

I looked at the priest. I could see the passion in his eyes and felt humbled that these two men should think me worthy to be an accomplice in their quest. Alun had saved my life, and I knew him to be a true and kindly man. If my role was to lend the strength of my arm to the wisdom that he would bring to this intriguing mission, then I would not only be a fool to turn down such a unique challenge, but also disloyal to England and to my people.

A spark flew from the fire at that point, breaking my concentration. Realizing that I had been listening so intently that I had not moved for several minutes, I adjusted my position in my chair. My backside had become numb and I winced slightly as the blood flowed back and made my buttocks prickle.

‘Some more wine, Sir Ranulf? I think you need a little respite for a moment.’

Father Alun leaned across and poured another goblet of the Earl’s excellent dark-red wine.

‘It is from a small estate I have in Aquitaine. You will like it there. In the winter it is not unlike here, but the autumns are mild and the springs and summers are like heaven on earth.’

‘So, I am to travel to Aquitaine?’