Alison Weir - Captive Queen

“I thank God for that,” Eleanor went on. “I am sure that many will remember Henry as a wicked man, but he was never that simple. I loved him with a passion—and came to hate him as fervently, and in our later years I hardly recognized the young man I had so joyfully married. But I could never forget what had been between us, and just occasionally I was afforded a rare glimpse of the old Henry, the one I had loved—and that is why I say to you that he was not truly a wicked man. And when all is said and done, he was, in many respects, an excellent and beneficial ruler.”

“He was a great king, and I will miss him,” Marshal said simply.

“And I too, immeasurably,” said Eleanor. “For all the unkindness between us, and our terrible betrayals of each other, I think I still loved him to the last. I can’t explain why, and God knows I had little reason to love him. But there was something about him, something about us, that kept me in thralldom, even when I wanted to free myself. It’s very complicated, and I couldn’t expect anyone to understand it.”

Clearing the buffet cupboard behind her, Amaria made a face.

William Marshal, flouting protocol, laid his hand on Eleanor’s. His kind eyes were warm. “I know what you mean,” he said. “I loved him too. I would have died for him.”

Later, after the tablecloth had been lifted, Marshal came to the chief purpose of his visit.

“My lady, we must get down to business. This cannot wait. I have come here, not just to set you free, but to inform you that the King has entrusted you with the power of ruling England as regent. I carry in my saddle pouch instructions to the princes and lords of the realm that your word shall be law in all matters.”

Her heart was suddenly singing. This was the measure of Richard’s love and trust, she knew. And, please God, she would be equal to it. Not many men, let alone women, were called at the advanced age of sixty-seven to such responsibility and honor. She gave thanks that her years of endurance had taught her a degree of wisdom, despite what she had self-deprecatingly said to William Marshal, and that she was as energetic as she had ever been, and had all her faculties about her. She knew, for she had learned in a hard school, how to rule well, and how to command the respect and obedience—and the love—of her people. Her new authority, for which she thanked God most humbly, would sit easily upon her.

She was eager to be gone from Winchester, to grasp the reins of government and wield power for the common good. She would make sure that she exerted a sage and benevolent influence over her son the King, who was going to need all the help and support he could get to rule his great empire. His subjects in England hardly knew him, for he was a stranger to them. Well, she would do all in her power to win him their love.

Her head was full of plans. She would go to Westminster and make every free man in England swear to bear fealty to their new liege lord. Then she would make a progress through the shires, dispensing justice and disposing of all things as she sought fit, cozening the obedience of the nobles. She would transact the business of court and chancery in the King’s name, but using her own seal.

She was bursting with great plans. She would reform the harsh forest laws, which were so injurious to the poor who tried to scratch a living from the vast swaths of woodland that kings had hitherto regarded purely as their personal hunting grounds. She would legislate for honest weights and measures, and a coinage that would be legal tender anywhere in the kingdom; and she would found hospitals and free prisoners. If any protested against that, she would remind them that she had found prison to be a terrible thing, and that those who were released from it experienced such a delightful refreshment of the spirits that they would make sure never to risk such punishment again. She would make herself exceedingly respected and beloved, to her son’s benefit and that of the whole kingdom.

With God’s help, she would do all this and more, with wisdom and compassion, and in her own name: Eleanor, by the grace of God, Queen of England.

Eleanor thought her heart would burst with joy when she beheld Richard, in all the golden beauty of his manhood, striding toward her across the vast length of the great hall in Winchester Castle. As she stepped forward from the dais, and he caught her in his strong arms and embraced her, the whole court burst into cheers and applause. Then, in all humility, the King knelt for his mother’s blessing, which she gave with gladness.

With due state and ceremony, Richard ascended to his throne; there were in fact two thrones, side by side, with nothing to distinguish one from the other in precedence or importance. Eleanor saw by this that her son was resolved to treat her as an equal.

But he had not yet sat down in his high place; he remained standing before her, facing the assembled throng. “My lords and ladies!” he cried in ringing tones. “I wish to express now, before you all, my deepest gratitude to my Lady Mother the Queen for so ably securing this kingdom for me. I cannot sufficiently do her honor, but I would ask you now always to remember how especially dear she is to me, and treat her accordingly.”

Eleanor’s eyes brimmed as she rose and curtsied before the acclaim of the people. It was awhile before she could see clearly to watch the great ceremonies that were being enacted to welcome the King to his realm.

“And now, my lady,” Richard said much later, in a lower voice, “let us be private, for I would unburden myself to you.”

As soon as they were alone in his great chamber, which she’d had done up so gorgeously against his coming, he turned and grasped both her hands, gazing down on her with a troubled countenance.

“My lady, I am aware that, through rebelling against my father, I have earned the disapproval of good and wise men,” he confessed, his strong, handsome face flushing a little. “Do you too censure me for it?”

He looked for a moment like a little boy again, seeking his mother’s forgiveness for some silly prank. But this was no childish silliness; he had cruelly made war on his father, against all the laws of God and Nature, and Eleanor had found that difficult to reconcile with her cherished notions of her son, however just his cause had been. She had reminded herself, often, that had not Richard rebelled, John would have stayed faithful, and Henry would have been spared that last, bitter betrayal. But, of course, Henry had been wrong in the first place …

“I make no judgment until I have heard what you have to say,” she said carefully.

“Then know this, Mother. I crucify myself every day for what I did to my father—and yet, I know that if I had it all to do again, I would do the same. I had the right of it, you see. But he is gone now, and I cannot mend things between us. Instead, to make up for my past wrongs, I will do all I can to show honor to you as my mother. He would have wanted that. And I hope that my obedience to you will atone for my offense against my father. Will that suffice? Can you forgive me?”

Eleanor gazed lovingly into his eyes. “Yes, Richard, of course. Our Lord teaches us that to err is human, to forgive divine. Before he left me for the last time, your father and I pledged our forgiveness to each other. I can do no less for you, his son and mine. Yes, I forgive you, with all my heart. And I am sure that if Henry has attained Heaven and is looking down on us, he would forgive you too.”

She sank into a chair, overcome by the emotion of the moment. “This reminds me of a prophecy of Merlin that I never thought to see fulfilled,” she said. “He foretold that the ‘Eagle of the Broken Covenant’ should rejoice in her third nesting. I puzzled over that for years. But now I know for certain that I am indeed that eagle, and that the broken covenant was indeed my marriage to your father—I suspected that much long ago, but I knew that the latter part of the prophecy had yet to be fulfilled. And now it has. It is you, Richard, my third son, who is my third nesting. It is in you that my heart rejoices. You are the one who will raise my name to great glory, as the seer foretold.”