The Loves of the Lionheart Read online

  It would take some four months to travel to Sicily, provided there were no delays, a journey which would take them across mountains and through countryside so different from her beloved Navarre, Berengaria would never have believed there were such places.

  She insisted on stopping and giving alms to the poor who begged along the sides of the roads, despite Eleanor’s objections.

  “It is the responsibility of the fortunate to care for the less fortunate,” she argued. “It has ever been my way and it is a way I trust my new husband will allow me to continue.”

  She phrased it that way to appease Richard’s mother, but in truth no one, man or woman, was going to keep her from helping the poor. She firmly believed that was the reason God had given her so much, so as to put her in a position to carry out such good works.

  Eleanor made no reply, but she was not displeased. She thought it likely that Richard, too, would be happy with the sentiment of his bride.

  Berengaria had known no hardship in her life before this journey, but now she was forced to ride on the backs of mules because their feet were steadier than those of a horse, she was forced to sleep in tents or in travellers’ hostelries which offered only the very basic of needs.

  Still she had no regrets about taking this journey, for every step, every hardship brought her closer to her new life, closer to Richard. They managed to cover some twenty miles each day of the journey, despite slowing to greet some of the spectators who came out to see their colourful entourage.

  Eleanor was impatient with these delays, slight though they were. She was eager to arrive in Sicily before Richard left there with Philip Augustus, the King of France. But it seemed he was going nowhere just yet.

  They arrived in Sicily to discover that its new King, Tancred, had captured and imprisoned the widow of his predecessor and stolen the valuable gold plate that the late King had left to Richard. That widow was the sister of King Richard the Lionheart and he was not about to leave the situation as it was.

  So, he was still on the island when they arrived, having released his sister, Joanna and secured her safely with him to await the arrival of his mother and his bride.

  Despite the rift that now existed between King Philip and his former friend, when Philip first set eyes on Richard’s sister, the newly widowed Queen Joanna, he thought it expedient to try to mend the hostility between them. It was inevitable that she would be beautiful, being the sister of such a handsome man as King Richard, but he had given it little thought before.

  After the feast of that evening, during which Richard had seen the admiration in his friend’s eyes, he took him aside and spoke softly.

  “Please do not make any plans about my sister, Philip,” he said. “She has suffered enough. I would not allow her to suffer more at your hands.”

  “What does that mean?” Philip replied. “You don’t think I would hurt her, do you?”

  “Remind me, please, of the Danish princess who arrived here as your bride. Remind me of her fate when you decided, for some reason I have never fathomed, that you were repulsed by her.”

  “What has she to do with anything?”

  “When the Pope refused to annul the marriage and send her back to Denmark, you imprisoned her in a cold and damp castle without the basic necessities of life, without even enough food. Did I hear the tale wrong?”

  Philip could only stare at him, saying nothing. Richard nodded slowly.

  “Her only crime was in not pleasing you and what is more, she is still your wife; you are still married to her. If you think I would ever entrust my dearest sister to a man who would behave so to an innocent woman, then you have never known me at all.”

  “I found her repulsive, yes, but she lied to the Pope. She insisted that I had consummated the marriage so that I couldn’t get my annulment.” His jaw clenched in anger as talk of marriage reminded him once again of his own sister. “And what is your excuse for the interminable delay in marrying my sister? You promised me years ago you would get on with it, yet still she lingers unwed and I hear now you have moved her to Normandy. Is that in preparation for the marriage?”

  Richard frowned, wishing this conversation had never begun. He had told Philip years ago that he would never marry Alys and he had told him why, but he chose to ignore it. It was likely Richard’s own fault for doing nothing to dissolve the betrothal. He was still betrothed to Alys, but Princess Berengaria was on her way to him. He wanted nothing to come between him and Philip which would mean disaster for the coming crusade before it had even begun. A lie was in order.

  “I will marry her, on my return from the crusade,” he lied. “You must be on your way with the fleet, while I wait here for my mother.”

  “Why do you need to wait?”

  “My sister would be in danger still were I to leave her now. Even you must realise that. You must leave at dawn.”

  Before Berengaria arrives.

  But the following morning brought an angry Philip into Richard’s tent, demanding to know if the tale he had been told was the true one, or merely idle gossip to which he should give no credence.

  “I have been told that Queen Eleanor is on her way here, as you said, but not alone. I have been told she brings with her the Navarrese Princess, and that she brings her to you for your bride.” He paused and scowled, giving Richard time to slide from his bed and get to his feet. He was very much taller than Philip and the very action of standing gave him the advantage. “Well?” Philip demanded. “I know it must be a vicious rumour, because how can you be preparing to marry this Princess Berengaria when you are yet betrothed to my sister?”

  “Philip, I decided a long time ago that I could not marry Alys. You know that; I told you at the time and I told you my reasons. They have not changed.”

  “You lied to my face last night! You told me, assured me you would wed her when you returned, while all the time you were plotting to take another for your bride. What is this insult to my sister? To my whole royal house? What harm has she done you that you should despise her so?”

  Richard took a deep breath.

  “I do not despise your sister, Philip,” he said. “But she can never be my wife because my father knew her and she bore him a child. This you know. This is known by the whole of Christendom.”

  Philip’s eyes grew wide, his cheeks flamed, his jaw clenched along with his fists.

  “I do not believe you!”

  “It is true. You know it is true and pretending you don’t will not help matters.”

  “Where is this child?”

  “Dead. She was born prematurely and lived only a few hours after birth.”

  “Why did you lie to me?” Philip shouted. “Why did you tell me you would marry her after the crusade? Why did you bring her to Normandy?”

  “I wanted nothing to come between us,” Richard replied. “I wanted nothing to interfere with the crusade.”

  “And you brought her to Normandy, no doubt to keep hold of her dower lands.”

  Richard could not deny that was his motive and now the honourable thing to do would be to hand them, and Alys, over to Philip.

  “You can have them,” he said. “I will release her into your care or into the care of your representative. You can, perhaps, find her a suitable husband.”

  “I can find her a husband, but it will hardly be a man suitable for a royal princess. And she is likely past childbearing age, or soon will be.”

  Richard doubted that. His own mother had borne children much later in life than this, but it was true that Alys had carried on an affair with King Henry for years and produced no more children than the one who died. But that was not his concern. The truth was known now and all he felt was relief.

  “What is she worth?” Philip asked him gruffly.

  “Sorry?”

  “Alys, what is she worth? You cannot expect me to release you from your promise with no compensation at all.”

  “10,000 marks,” Richard said. “It is worth it to have the whole busi
ness out of my mind.”

  And now he could look forward to marriage with the most beautiful princess in Christendom and no fear of his father stealing her away.

  THE FLEET WAS MAGNIFICENT, one of the largest ever seen and the best equipped, largely due to Richard having rescued his sister and her dowry, together with all the gold plate her late husband, King William of Sicily, had left. He intended to use the gold at his wedding feast, then sell it on to equip more fighting men.

  The church allowed no marriages during Lent and Richard was eager to continue the journey to Acre. But nothing had yet been decided about the venue for the wedding and, although now free of any obligation to Princess Alys, he did not want her brother to be present at his marriage to the Navarrese princess.

  And as he waited for that princess, he could not help but recall his one and only meeting with her at a tourney in her home city of Pamplona. She was very young then, far too young for a man to even think about taking her as his bride, but he had been enchanted just the same. His thoughts then were to visualise how she would look in a few years time, when she had passed through adolescence to womanhood and now, as he anxiously awaited her arrival, he wondered if she had developed into the beauty he had expected her to be.

  He was anxious for the crusade to begin, but he was almost as anxious for his bride to arrive. They could not stay in Sicily until the end of Lent; that would be too much of a delay. He wanted to journey on to Acre at the earliest opportunity and meet with his fellow crusade leaders, so it seemed that city would be the most likely in which to hold his wedding.

  He had captured most of Sicily, laid siege to the castle where the usurper King Tancred had held his sister and taken him prisoner. He had also arranged a marriage treaty between his young nephew, Arthur, and Tancred’s daughter, although neither were yet of an age to wed.

  He was well aware that by entering into such an agreement, he was tacitly declaring Arthur as his heir, should he die without sons. Since his brother, Geoffrey, had died some five years ago, Arthur was the nearest male relative, but he was a child still. By making this gesture which would confirm him as Richard’s heir, he also knew he would enrage his youngest brother, John.

  It hardly mattered. John was unfit to rule an army of toy soldiers, much less an empire the size of this one. Richard had never had any love for England, had spent only enough time there to get himself crowned and raise money for his crusade, but despite that, he would not wish Prince John on them.

  He heard the horses arrival from his tent and he hurried to meet them. He had not see his mother for many years, thanks to his father keeping her a prisoner and allowing no visitors, and he was looking forward to seeing her again. He only hoped that her suffering had not affected her too much. Eleanor was a strong woman and Richard wanted nothing to diminish that strength; it was part of who she was.

  But as he lifted the tent flap his eyes moved past her to the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, seated on an elaborate saddle on a regal Arab pony. She was dressed in the finest silk of pale yellow, her head was covered in a veil of similar fabric and draped with precious stones and beads that fell about her ears and over her shoulders on their way to her full breasts.

  Richard caught his breath, seeing a shadow of the little girl she had been, just as he had seen this woman in the child she once was. He knew he had done the right thing by asking for her hand, he knew that of all the women he had ever known, of all the princesses he could have chosen for his wife, this was the one he could love.

  BERENGARIA COULD NOT help but notice the admiration in King Richard’s eyes as he looked at her and she was thrilled. She could hardly wait to join him at the altar, to become his bride. But it was Lent, so she would have to be patient.

  However, Richard was not prepared to wait in Sicily until the period of Lent was over. His priority was to reach Palestine and establish himself as crusade leader, before one of the other leaders started giving orders. This crusade had been his idea and he had organised it, so he was too anxious to start it to even think about his marriage, no matter how lovely was his bride.

  Not knowing when he and his men would enjoy a decent meal again, he arranged a farewell banquet the night before their departure, and during that banquet, Eleanor came to Richard’s tent to finalise the settlement for his marriage. She was prepared to part with some of her own territories to make up that settlement and she authorised him to bestow on his bride the region of Gastony. She also wanted to arrange for him to take Berengaria and Joanna with him to Acre.

  “No,” he argued. “Women cannot sail with crusaders. I think you know that, Mother. They can stay with you.”

  “I have no time to chaperone your bride. I have things to discuss with His Holiness which cannot wait, then I go to England to repair the damage your brother has done in your absence. He is ruining the country along with your reputation and must be stopped.”

  “Take the women with you.”

  “Are you not anxious to celebrate your marriage, Richard?” Eleanor asked him angrily. “You are long past the age when a man in your position should marry and produce heirs. You sent for the Navarrese princess, you asked me to go to Pamplona and fetch her to you. Now you are delaying the moment when you make her your Queen. Why?”

  Richard sighed heavily. He had so many things racing around his mind and he had no time for any of them. Palestine was where he needed to be, the sooner the better, so if his mother would not agree to take his betrothed and his sister with her, he would have to wed the Princess in Acre. That would delay the start of the crusade even more, and give Saladin more time to gather his own forces.

  This was not what he wanted. He had planned to be wed in Sicily on his way to the Holy Land, but he had completely forgotten that it would be Lent when Berengaria arrived there.

  “No reason, Mother,” he replied. “I am eager for my marriage, but I am more eager to drive the Infidel from the Holy City. Is that not more important?”

  “I think not. At this moment, your inheritance is more important.”

  “I say again; women cannot travel with the crusaders.”

  “True, but there is nothing to stop them taking their own ship and joining the fleet.”

  Richard could hardly argue with that. He nodded his agreement. Once Philip was out of the way, he would be more than happy to celebrate his marriage and bed his bride, but it could not be before.

  JOANNA STARED AT THE great ship which was to take her and her brother’s betrothed to Acre, and her heart weighed heavy with dread. Pulling her cloak tightly around herself to keep out the wind from the sea, she closed her eyes and tried to summon up the courage needed to step aboard the vessel. It bobbed in the water, making her dizzy as her eyes followed its movement.

  The last time she had been at sea, she was but eleven years old and on her way to Sicily for her wedding to King William. At that time, she had been so sick the captain had been forced to pull ashore and give her a day on solid land before she was able to continue.

  She always knew that one day she would have to embark on a sea voyage again, but now the time had come, her stomach heaved merely from the sight of the swirling waves.

  Somebody clasped her hand and she turned her head to see Berengaria, standing beside her, her hand tucked affectionately in hers.

  “You seem concerned,” she said.

  “I am. My experience of sea travel was not a pleasant one. Indeed, I was so ill, I didn’t think I would ever get to my destination alive.” She bit her lip, her mouth turned down. “I do not look forward to doing it again.”

  “I will look after you,” Berengaria said.

  There was comfort in her voice, enough to make Joanna believe that she actually could make her feel better, that she really could cure her sea sickness.

  “I understood this was the first time you had left Navarre.”

  “I went to Bordeaux once,” Berengaria replied. “I quite enjoyed the short trip here by sea. Besides, you are no longer
a child. You will have grown out of it by now, I am certain.”

  From the moment Joanna met her brother’s bride, she had felt an instant liking for her. She was very lovely, which should make Richard happy, but apart from that she was very kind. And they had so much in common. They had both been accustomed to living amid Mediterranean colours and sunshine and both loved music and singing. They could talk for hours about their childhoods, about their experiences of life so far and Joanna was delighted to know she was to be Berengaria’s chaperone.

  Joanna wanted to hear all about her new sister’s upbringing amid a close and happy family, with brothers and sisters and parents who loved her. In turn, Berengaria was keen to know what it was like to be sent away as a child to marry a stranger twice her age in a foreign country. And although Queen Eleanor was Joanna’s own mother, whom she had not seen for many years, she did not seem to have any particular affection for her daughter. Berengaria had already decided she did not like Queen Eleanor, but Richard loved her, so she was determined to do the same.

  They boarded the ship holding hands, like two children, but while Joanna was soothed by her friend’s comfort, Berengaria was wondering how long it would be before she had time to talk to her betrothed alone or if, indeed, she would have such a chance. His only thought seemed to be for the crusade and now she wondered why he had sent for her at all, why she had made this arduous journey over mountains and across strange terrain, just to wait for him to fight his battles. And if he did not survive? He was a great warrior and never lost a battle, but there was always a first time and if that should happen, she would have come all this way for nothing.

  The only reason she and Joanna were not being sent off with Eleanor was because she had refused to take them. Instead, she had given her son’s bride into the care of his sister and they were to follow him and his soldiers to the Holy Land. It was exciting for a woman who had never left her homeland, except for one short trip to France, but it was also frightening.