CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Your half-brother was not as astute as you gave him credit for, my husband”. Isabella of Angouleme, Queen of England smiled somewhat evenly wanly at John Lackland as he sought to throw more water over himself during one of his frequent baths. The consort was a distinguished-looking lady very French and dark-visaged with a Mediterranean temperament that could alternate between fierce anger and kindly senuousness. She might find her husband irrascible in some respects but, thank God, he took care over his personal appearance. These regular baths were certainly a bonus compared with some - nay most - of the barons who apart from a saunter past their moats had barely espied water in their lives. He was a tough individual was John, inspite of what people said, about five and a half feet, chunkily built. Fair enough he liked his food, chicken and eggs in particular but he was not really a glutton. Not over-keen on the fashion of the day, but a good eye for expensive jewels which he prided on wearing at appropriate occasions. Quite a pragmatic individual but keenly aware of his status in life, good for a raunchy joke and a sly chuckle but every inch an Angevin King. Yes a strange contrast was John.

“William, by my troth yes. The Longsword was not so swift at getting to London was he? If he had moved with the same alacrity as Savory de Mauléon and fought with the same enterprise we would not have lost so much ground. De Maulèon has served me well in the South - his Poitevan mercenaries are stout-hearted rogues. Fitzwalter would have been crushed if he had had to take on de Mauléon. What a pathetic mess the rebels made in trying to take Northampton Castle, and it was only through a sympathiser holding Bedford Castle that they secured that negligible fortification.”

“True, my husband” interposed Isabella “but now that London has come out in favour of your enemies, you are in rather a tricky position.”

“Don’t be so sure, Isabella” grinned the King “Fitz-Walter has not had much joy in building up support throughout the Country. Most people know what is best for them, or at least they have sought to cover their backs. The old-established lords have voiced support for me whilst their heirs have ridden to London to offer solace to the rebels. That way there is a solid stale-mate. Not very decisive I would say.”

“Why don’t you urge de Mauléon to ride against the rebels. He could do
untold damage.....”

“Precisely, my Queen. I’m not quite so pig-headed as people believe me to be. I might cause ill-feeling for years after if Savary and his routiers laid waste the countryside. I want to appear a temperate monarch, one who balances his own needs with that of his people.”

“Well in that case how long is this whole episode going to last? Exactly what is the solution?”

“Stephen Langton has been thrashing-out terms in the form of Charter of Liberties agreeable to both parties. I know that he has had a fair amount of help - that glum-faced cleric hasn’t the wit to think entirely for himself. Hopefully I can put my great seal on a fairly meaningless piece of paper and then everyone can go home happy.”

“What exactly is this Charter?” queried Isabella.

“A tiresome document discussing forest laws, rights of inheritance etc. The barons would try and press me to be less than an absolute ruler. Still it all depends on the wording. In most cases you can agree terms, then build your strength up again and forget about the nonsense that you had solemnly supported. I am expecting Langton here virtually any moment.”

As John was completing his statement a tall dignified young lady entered the presence.

“Well, well” smiled the Queen. “It’s Brythech I believe. I will not chastise you for entering the room while the King is bathing. Indeed, I know, my child that you are accustomed to seeing the Royal Person in such a state of undress”.

“Quite my dear” scowled John “no need for sarcasm.”

“Oh my husband don’t be so pompous I know all about your cavorting and Brythech meets with my approval. She is a considerate lady and keeps you amused. A King needs to ease away the pressure now and then - although, of course, I feel that I have met with some success there as well.”

Brythech coughed politely seeking to draw the attention of the King and Queen to her.

“My Liege, my Lady I have news to convey. Stephen Langton, Archbishop of
Canterbury would like an audience with you.”

“Well damn it woman, don’t keep the prelate of All England waiting send him in” responded John.

After a slight interval the sober figure of Stephen Langton appeared at the threshold. As was invariably the case the Archbishop gave the impression of stoicism and self-importance combined.

“Well Archbishop what news?” demanded the King.

“If your Grace is otherwise engaged... “

“Tush man, the King of England has nothing to hide from the senior Churchman in the land.”

“Quite so my Lord” muttered Langton more than a trifle embarrassed.

“The state of the Country is really what I came to discuss.”

“Quite so indeed Langton!” snorted John “Have the rebels come to heel yet? I could have crushed them completely if I had so desired. I am more of a diplomat than most people give me credit for. If I had let my routiers run-riot there would have been bad feeling for a generation afterwards. I do hope that my magnanimity is not interpreted as weakness”

“Surely not my Liege.” insisted Langton “You know, of course that William Marshal and myself have been having discussions with the rebels in London.”

“What a fine mess those rebels have made of things. My London Subjects are loyal - they must be, after all I granted them favourable terms and conditions covering a number of issues barely a few weeks ago. Damn it if a few traitorous dogs don’t open up the London gates to the vile rebels. Serve them right when the scurvy barons plunder and ransack the place. Even so my royalist supporters have held - out solidly in the Tower - no-one can move them - stout-hearted and determined are they - what an example to my enemies.”

“Even so, my Lord” agreed Langton somewhat cringingly “but now is probably the best time to strike a bargain. It may be the right time to conclude a negotiated peace with the barons.”

“What do you suggest I promise them - holding up this so-called Charter that has been produced and agree to abide by the fine print?”

“Fine print is a matter for a King....”

“I’m glad you acknowledge as such Langton, after all I am the monarch who commands here. I’ve agreed to go on a crusade for what it’s worth and I am sure that Pope Innocent is keen to see my unruly barons brought into line.”

“The Holy Father has always been your friend, your Grace.”

“Well he certainly has a peculiar way of showing his friendship, he’s been a pain in the arse to me for a number of years..... “

“Let bygones be bygones John let us see how we can negotiate from here” interrupted Isabella “after all it is not only your crown, my husband, that we have to consider but that of our son Henry who will become King ultimately.”

“A long time ultimately I hope” snapped the King “still ‘tis no matter, where do you suggest I meet my enemies?”

“I have had discussions” responded the Archbishop “and provided that you are agreeable we could meet in a meadow called Runnymede on the banks of the Thames between Windsor and Staines.”

“Well I suppose I will have to agree. Let us get the matter over with as quickly as possible. I can manage to see the feckless baronage in, say, a few days time. Let’s make it 15th June.”

“I see no problems arising my good Lord. In fact I know that all your nobles will be pleased to be back in the fold once more. England at Peace is the aim of all parties I am sure.”

“God you talk the most arrant nonsense at times even for an Archbishop, Nevertheless I will be there. Tell everyone that they are offered safe passage and let us get back to Governing a united England.”

“Indeed, my Lord. Indeed my Lord” muttered Langton backing-out from the Royal presence.

As the Archbishop shuffled through the corridors, his head buried in thought, he could not resist a quiet smile. Yes he had done quite well. All this talk of barons, and warriors, even Kings, it was really the administrators such as himself who kept society in order. His learning, his diplomatic skills, yes he was certain that he would go down in history as a distinguished personage. It was good to be at the centre of
things, it was good to be needed, a Prince of the Church, someone of importance. Thank God that he was who he was and neither a baron nor a peasant. The Church had been valuable to him, it had got him where he was. Life was not so bad after all even though England had just escaped, or now were likely to escape from the continued effects of civil war.

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