Chapter One

 

Prince John gazed at the quiet, respectful crowd of courtiers, attendants and richly attired ladies that filled the audience hall at Durham castle. There was an expectant silence as John Lonchant, REGENT OF England, approached the wooden bench that served Prince John as a temporary throne. This drizzling foggy day in March was the grim setting for the confrontational audience, which was about to transpire in the crowded hall. Everyone who was anyone was there, surrounded by attendants and guards.

Prince John was a short man, well-favored of proportion with iron gray eyes and matted brown hair. What he lacked in appearance he more than made up for in a natural dignity and an attitude of command, which leant a singular authority to his words.

Nevertheless, John known as the Lackland, was resplendent in well-polished chain mail and a red Norman cloak with gold braid, artfully woven around the edges. He certainly had the appearance and deportment of a prince of the realm and everyone there knew it. He was the personification of royalty and authority, even though his brother Richard was currently the king of the realm.

 

Lonchant had been regent, since Richard had left the realm in 1189. He was a tall sturdy man who exuded confidence and experience. Lonchant was still a formidable presence in spite of his gray hair and 50 odd years. His cool green eyes locked on the Prince's countenance as the anticipated confrontation began. The whispering in the crowd diminished as they saw Prince John motion for silence. The regent's face was as stony as the granite walls.

"We have summoned you, John Lonchant to inform you that you are no longer regent of England."

At this there was a low murmur from the crowd of spectators.

"Further we command you to leave England forthwith. We shall supply you with letters of safe conduct and 500 marks to defray your traveling expenses. You will be accompanied by a body guard of 20 men at arms under the command of Stephen DeMontford, to make sure that you are not interfered with on your journey back to your brother's estate in Normandy."

For a long moment, John Lonchant looked at Prince John and asked the question that everyone in the hall dared not ask.

"By what authority do you presume to repudiate the command of Richard Cordele on, lawful king of England?"

Prince John visibly stiffened at Lonchant's blunt rebuke. There were audible gasps from some of the people in the crowd.

"We are the royal successor to Richard, king of England and it has been over a year since Richard left the holy land. No one has heard any word of him since. Therefore I am taking over the regency in preparation to accede to the throne. My brother is probably dead and this country needs a ruler, not an obsequious regent. Besides we have over three thousand men at arms at our disposal, which is all the authority I need. You really should learn better manners, Lonchant. A mere noble, such as yourself, should no better than to question a prince."

At this retort there were a few amused chuckles.

"Milord Prince, it is my duty to inform you that if Richard should return he will make you account for your actions this day."

The prince gave a quick nervous glance to Falconbridge who was standing guard near him.

John let scorn creep into his retort. "Let me worry about my brother, Richard. Now get you gone across the channel and let us here no more from you."

There was a long pause as Lonchant chose his words carefully. He was aware that john could have trouble controlling his temper at times.

"Is there nothing I can say to change your decision?"

The Prince looked at the solemn gathering and gave the faintest hint of a smile.

"There is nothing you or anyone can say. You have our permission to withdraw."

"Will you allow me a few days to gather my possessions and prepare for this lengthy journey?"

"Certainly, you will have until the morning of the fifth day from now at which time you must be on your way. My kinsman Falconbridge will attend you and see that all is done satisfactorily."

Lonchant's face became grim and as hard as flint. He had served Henry the second and Richard the Lion Heart for many years and the insulting tone was just as irritating as the decision itself. The soon to be exiled regent thought wistfully of the only great man he had ever known. Henry Plantagenet. How could he have fathered such a thing as John? It obviously was yet another one of God's great mysteries.

"Lonchant decided to end his service on a note of dignity. Then may God have mercy on this realm and on your person, noble prince." The hint of sarcasm was not noticed by anyone.

"Amen to that." Prince John crossed himself at his conclusion to Lonchant's brief prayer.

As Lonchant turned to leave he could not reframe from giving John a searing insult.

"I honestly believe, John Lackland, that when Richard returns there will be no mercy for you or any of the traitorous cretins who support you. I will now take my leave of this hapless realm."

Lonchant bowed respectfully and walked out of the hall. He never glanced back. As he left the hall, He never noticed nor would he have cared if he had the look of raw fury that passed over the Prince's face at the former regent's insult. John's anger erupted in a low whisper to Falconbridge.

"The bloody insolent bastard, I should have his head. A pox on him. He better leave England quickly per my command."

 

Fortunately it was relatively easy for Lonchant to prepare for the trip, as he only had 5 servants with him and his wife had been dead these past 7 years. He noted a new group of surly guards, which had appeared as by magic, to watch him closely and surround his quarters. He gave them a contemptuous glance and entered his residential quarters, thinking to himself, John will pay for this insult.

"Jean, come here!"

Lonchant's master servant appeared in the small alcove as Lonchant entered.

"Yes milord, what are your orders?"

"We must pack all our goods and be ready to leave on Thursday. As you may have already guessed, I am no longer regent of England. The noble Prince has given us five days but we're leaving ahead of that cretin's schedule. I always believe in catching the bastards off balance. I will be glad to wipe the dust of Durham castle off my boots. Get the others and let's get to work."

Jean bowed respectfully and immediately the former regent's quarters became a whirlwind of activity as preparations were made.

 

Meanwhile, the court was buzzing with the unexpected news that had just been thrust upon the Prince's servants and nobles. Many a furtive glance was exchanged and many a despondent remark as the prospects of becoming the enemy of Richard or John was examined. It was certain that one could not serve two masters and what if the owner of the vineyard should return? Would he not utterly destroy the unfaithful servants just as it had been written in the sacred books? All that day the castle of Durham was in a state of excitement and apprehension. What would be the right choice?

 

That evening, Hugh Falconbridge and Prince John were discussing the day's events in John's comfortable quarters. The apartment was a spacious solar replete with rich tapestries and warmed with a large fire, blazing in a wall pit which was standard in Norman castles. Hugh was serving them both with a second goblet of John's favorite Aquitanian wine. His mother Eleanor had introduced him to the beverage and John had become addicted to the exceptionally fine liquid.

"I must admit to you that I am concerned about my brother, Richard.

Falconbridge had a concerned look on his face.

"Lonchant has raised a valid point, milord. What if Richard should return?"

John took a thoughtful moment to drink some of his wine. He had learned much of his shrewdness and cleverness from his dead father, Henry.

"I have thought of that. I just learned yesterday from a certain Austrian courier that my dear brother Richard lies rotting in an Austrian dungeon. Leopold is holding him for ransom. The silly fool expects me to pay 50,000 marks in gold, mind you, for the release and safe conduct of our brother, Richard."

At this Hugh brook out in unrestrained laughter.

John was a little taken aback by Hugh's reaction and his voice became suddenly frosty.

"What do you find so funny, if I might ask?

"It's really too funny. Does Leopold really think that you are stupid enough to pay him for the privilege of preventing yourself from obtaining the crown of England? Leopold must be daft. You would have to be the love sick brother indeed to pay such a grandiose some to continue to endure the terrible name of John Lackland."

John looked for a moment as if he was angry at this comment, but then he remembered that Hugh was the only man he could trust in the entire realm.

"You are quite right, if put a bit too blunt for my taste. I certainly am not going to spend 50,000 marks in gold and loose the crown in the bargain. Richard was never a real brother to me. He insulted me at every turn. I mean we weren't all cut out to be tournament champions. A sharp wit can be more powerful than a well-carried claymore. Look at my mother. She was so dangerous that my father had her confined to a guarded castle for 16 bloody years."

Hugh and John each drank in silence for a few moments before Hugh resumed. "Eleanor of Aquitaine, the greatest lady of our age. It might be a good idea to seek her advice at the right time. She has much wisdom and you are her son, after all."

"It might, however, the one problem with seeking her advice, is that one might have to follow it and that means that one would be indebted to what we both admit is the most powerful woman of our time."

Falconbridge smiled briefly before continuing.

"Do you have a plan in case Richard should arise from the dead or escape from the clutches of our excuse for an Austrian ally?"

"Of course. I have given this a great deal of thought. First, if I ignore the message and hold the Austrian envoy indefinitely, Richard might die in Austrian captivity. In that case the problem is solved for me and Richard's blood would be on Leopold's head and not mine. However, if Richard should be so importunate as to set foot in England again, it is my opinion that after years of fighting in the dry deserts of the holy land, Richard will not be able to tolerate the wet cold climate of our England. He will most probably succumb to the ague and die of that untimely sickness. At least, that will be the official story. We shall be sorry, of course and we shall mourn his memory. It will be a sad burden to rule the realm in his stead. To be a royal person is an awesome responsibility, a vast burden, but I will do my duty for the good of my poor subjects. Do you gather my meaning?"

Hugh raised an eyebrow and spoke with a sardonic grin.

"I take it that this illness shall be unexpected and quite swift?"

John took another draft of the rich red wine.

"Exactly."

For a moment, Hugh looked at the rich tapestry, Saint George slaying the dragon. The

Fantastical scene was beautifully woven on the tapestry hanging opposite the fire pit.

"Wouldn't it be prudent to have spies watching the channel ports to report to us if such a personage should appear?"

"I can see that you have learned from our father. That is precisely what I want you to do. After you have made the arrangements for the removal of Lonchant I want you to select men you can trust to set up spies in all those channel ports just in case Richard should be so inconsiderate as to come back to a country he has never really loved. Christ man, since he became king in the year of our Lord 1189, he has spent only six short months here in England."

Hugh nodded and looked into the dancing flames. His voice was subdued and introspective.

"I have little love for Richard. As you know, for years, Richard called me every vile name in the book and a few out of it."

Hugh then turned to Jon and nearly shouted at John witch made John Cringe for just a moment. The prince had not expected this flare of passion from his half-brother, Hugh.

"Was it my fault that I was born out of wedlock? I am proud to be the son of Henry Plantagenet! I was proud to serve his lawful sons! But you were the only prince who treated me with any kindness or consideration. You were the only one that realized that I had value as a leader of men."

Hugh became more subdued as he took another draft of the rich French wine.

"Milord John, I would never betray you. I realize that I could never become king. Even if you and Richard and any lawful issue that either of you might have were to all die, I still wouldn't be appointed king. They would find somebody that was a legitimate heir to the throne even if he were some distant cousin in Normandy, to take the throne. I have absolutely nothing to gain by harming you. You have given me command of this castle and of the major portion of the army when you are not in the field. You could say I am the third man in the kingdom after you and his grace the archbishop. That is more honor than most men ever hope to gain. What I am trying to say to you is that I am content to be your subject. I care not what other men say, you have always treated me with kindness and respect. I would follow you to the lowest level of hell and fight the very devil on your behalf."

There was a long silence and there were tears in both men's eyes. John went over to a small desk and upon opening a drawer he remove a ring and handed it to Hugh with these words.

"Please take this ring. It is special to me but I want you to have it. ...You know I am prone to quick temper and my rage can for a short time be unreasonable. It is probably my greatest weakness for a king should be a cold as ice and as calculating as a viper. There may come a time when I become angry with you. I make this promise. If you but show me this ring only, I will remember your words of devotion this night. I will stay any peril that I may threaten you with. It is sometime the curse of Kings that they do not remember the kindness of their subjects and only look at their faults."

Hugh held the ring in his hand and stared at it for a long time.

"Again you have shown me honor beyond my dessert. I have many faults my liege, but ingratitude is not one of them. I hope I will never give you cause to be angry with me. May God keep you an honest man."

John placed his hand on Hugh's shoulder and smiled with unguarded affection.

"May God keep me so. It is not always possible to be honest with the countless knaves of this weary world. Mark me, Hugh, I want the crown, of course, but it is not because I hate Richard so much but rather, I love England more. I don't enjoy crushing my enemies, but they would prevent me from protecting England from the treacherous Welch, the barbaric Scots and the rebellious outlaws who collectively threaten the body politic. I know there must be some reforms in the laws. I have heard our father say that many times and I believe him to be right. If for no other reason, it helps keep our poorer subjects content to know that they can expect a small improvement in their admittedly hard lot. All that having been said Hugh, I will be king and no power on the face of this fair earth will stop me."

Hugh raised his eyebrow a bit as he put the ring on his finger.

"What if the pope should interfere with your plan? What if Richard should go to Rome first?"

"I'll pay the pope's price. You probably don't know this but a hundred years ago, a pope was practicing black magic and as little as fifty years ago, another pope was so lecherous that his term of office was known as the pornocracy. For enough gold marks I can convince the damn pope that the knight begging his help is an imposter or worse."

Hugh glanced down at his wine goblet and spoke again in a calm voice.

"It certainly makes more sense to pay thousands of marks to gain the crown then to lose it. But this brings me back to the little errand you wish me to conclude with milord Lonchant. I never make assumptions when it comes to your unspoken thoughts. Do you want john Lonchant to reach Normandy or do you want him to have a very untimely and unfortunately fatal accident?"

John laughed spontaneously at this comment.

"By Christ's wounds you read me well! No Hugh, I want Lonchant to reach Normandy safely. There's no need to destroy the hand when Richard's head shall roll."

John sat back down as he waited for Hugh's reply.

"In that case do I have your permission to not only send twenty men at arms to protect him, but do you think it advisable to send an advance guard of a dozen men to make sure there are no ambushes planned by outlaws or other undesirable factions?"

"Excellent idea. See to it. While you are at it, place the Austrian envoy under close house arrest. I have not decided what to do with him yet. However, I certainly don't want him wandering around or sneaking off to Austria with some untimely report. Just tell him that we've had word that his life is in danger and we need to guard his person. Also, please make sure he is well supplied with food, drink and female companionship."

"It shall be as you command, sire. Do you wish another drink?"

There was a nod from John and Falconbridge refilled the golden goblet. He continued speaking.

"While I am here, I'd like to suggest some people you can count on during my absence."

John raised a brow and nodded again.

"Certainly the Bishop of the black canons is a firm supporter and Reginald Fitzwalter can be very useful in court administration. Guy of Gisborne, earl of Lester will continue to provide strong leadership in the North. However Sir Guy does bear some close watching. He shows too much greed for other men's estates. I bring up a name you may not be familiar with. He is a young man who is without rival when it comes to grasping the intricacies of the legal codes. He is truly remarkable. I think you could get much valuable advice from him. His name is Stephen Langdon."

John placed his left hand under his chin as he thought a moment before replying. "You are a sound judge of men, Hugh. I actually have heard of Langdon. I'll give him a try. Fore sooth it is getting late. Come back in the morning and we'll finalize the plans concerning the Austrian and Lonchant's departure."

Hugh finished his drink and bowed respectfully to John. As he was leaving the room he placed his goblet on the table and spoke in passing.

"Good night milord. May your reign be filled with golden days."

"Thanks Hugh. The die is cast."

 

After Hugh had left, Prince John stared for a long time at the gradually dwindling flames. His thoughts were turbulent as he considered Richard. It always came back to the ruthless, warrior king. The older brother, who had been the boisterous bully. He'd never taken John seriously for anything. John unconsciously spoke to himself.

"Well, Richard, may hap you will finally meet your match. Perhaps the timid little Lackland will leave you to a dismal fate."

John continued to pace back and forth in his room like a prowling lion. He remembered how his brother Richard and his long dead brother, Jeffrey, had always used him as the brunt of their jokes and abuse. Even his mother, the great Eleanor of Aquitaine had always been caustic and critical of virtually everything John had said or attempted to do. He was called Lackland because he had been given no realm or large estate to rule. All he owned was Durham castle and a few miserable, tiny estates in Normandy. Even these were at the behest of Richard. John had hoped that Richard had been killed in the holy land or during his return from the Crusade. But of course, Richard was still alive in an Austrian dungeon and who knew what might happen. What if Richard escaped? What if some idiot was able to come up with at least part of the ransom?

"I must be watchful."