CHAPTER FIVE

“Give us leave to approach you. We come from Wallingford at the behest of King John. It is important that you hear what we have to say because in our number is the sister of Arthur of Brittany.” The voice of Guy de Buissant rang loud and clear at the entrance to the manor of the Earl of Winchester.

“What have you to say that has not already been said?” barked-out a snarling dark-visaged personage in response.

“Allow us entrance and you will find-out. Surely the news that a relative of the King is here to see you must at least excite your interest.”

“In that case enter into our dwelling but your arguments must be sound, we have had enough of talking with no action. Time is decidedly running-out for all of us.”

Eleanor, Guy, and their appointed retainers walked firm of purpose, behind the scowling individual who had so discourteously addressed them. He seemed to almost lurch forward giving little indication of any gentility or nobility of life.

“Is this the Earl of Winchester?” enquired Eleanor whispering quietly to Guy.

“No, I know that this fellow gives the impression of being someone of importance but he is a roughneck of the worst order. His name is Eustace de Vesci and but for his important position in the North as Lord of Alnwick would have been hanged as a common rogue years ago.”

“Oh yes” smirked Eleanor “Uncle John rather fancied his wife didn’t he? No wonder there’s bad blood between them.”

De Vesci flashed a fierce but uncomprehending glance towards the couple, obviously unaware of what had been said but nonetheless suspicious of their every move. The dark-visaged baron spat vehemently to his side and with an urchin-like motion of the thumb ushered the Pearl and her escort into a draughty yet impressive hall. Gathered together was a significant number of imposing looking individuals, not necessarily impressive by any appearance of culture or gentle learning but by the sullen also awesome feeling that they generated of sheer-malice.

“Who have we here de Vesci?” snapped the most savage-looking of this sinister group.
“The King’s bloody niece and an escort of sorts, the one by her side is of some degree of gentle birth....” a snigger arose from the largely uncouth gathering...”a band of jackanape men at arms are also in the hall. There’s not many of them so there’s no danger on that score, they have come to talk terms with us.”

“Terms, eh” snarled de Vesci’s interrogator “what authority have they to carry terms?”

“We have the very highest authority Robert FitzWalter” responded Guy. “Our support is from his Grace the King.”

“Indeed. Well you know who I am. I take it that my fame has travelled before me. What do you know of my strength in arms, sirrah?”

Guy gritted his teeth and almost closed his eyes. Just to think about Robert FitzWalter was enough to turn his stomach. If anything FitzWalter was more disreputable than Eustace de Vesci. It had been said that only for his possession of territory he would be little regarded. His temper was high and his hand seemed seldom far from his sword. The savage baron had even challenged the King when the latter threatened to hang FitzWalter’s son-in-law Geoffrey de Manderville for killing a servant in a somewhat sordid squabble.

“It is said my Lord of Dunmow, that you are not a man to cross - that is if one has any sense. You are fierce and most forward in an argument.”

“Aye” laughed FitzWalter “you have said it right, and some would say the biggest scoundrel on earth. What do you say to that young sir, how do you find me?”

“I do not listen to tittle-tattle, sir. I am a Royal servant who is bounden to his Sovereign Lord.”

“But I am not so constrained or circumscribed, Lord Dunmow!” snapped Eleanor.

“Oh no my tiger cub!” grimaced FitzWalter.

“I wish I still were a young cub. Thanks for the compliment, my Lord” responded the Princess. “But it does not prevent me from saying that you have not served your King with all the loyalty expected for a baron, with feudal responsibilities.”
“By my Faith” snarled FitzWalter “what does John deserve? He could not even keep his possessions in Normandy. Is that the strong-willed, strong-armed master that we should obey?”

“On the contrary” replied Eleanor with some dignity “John has never lost a battle where he himself led. In the campaigns of last year, he achieved much in Maine and the surrounding district. It was others who let him down at Bouvines. Remember I was brought along to that expedition. At Nantes John was magnificent he captured Peter of Dreux, King Philip of France’s cousin. He was supposedly Count of Brittany in right of his wife Alice, my half-sister. Since John had brought me along there was talk that I may have been installed in Peter’s place. Who knows?”

“What’s all this got to do with me girl” bellowed FitzWalter. “I don’t need a damned history lesson.”

“Merely to remind you that King John is an effective military leader while you my lord....”

“Yes!” glowered FitzWalter “what about me?”

“Also know the value of strategy and planning” interposed Guy de Buissant.

Eleanor of Brittany glowered deeply at Guy. “Varlet” she hissed under her breath “I meant to say that FitzWalter and Saer de Quenci, another of the confederate barons, had cowardly opened the gates of Vaudrevil, a vital stronghold in Normandy. Even the French had openly despised them for it.”

“Stop holding private conversations” barked Eustace de Vesci “but did I also hear the name of Saer de Quenci, another of our brave company being mentioned here? What, of him, the gentleman is here in our midst.”

Ignoring this question the Pearl of Brittany rounded on Guy. “I will have my say, sirrah!” she almost roared.

The steadfast squire pulled her a trifle unceremoniously by the arm much to her obvious chagrin.

“My lady” began Guy “my apologies but discretion is the better part of valour here. We have come to quieten and still the waters, get a feel for the situation and hopefully act as peacemakers. We will not achieve that by openly insulting the

leading protagonists here.”
“Huh!” snorted the Pearl “Well I’ll be guided by you. After all it is said that sometimes servants know best.”

Guy ignored this barbed insult and merely bowed his head.

“I’m sure, my lady, you will find it the best course to follow. It would be a shame if all your focused intelligence and wit were to be wasted because of some meaningless difference of opinion.”

“You have made your point, squire.” snapped Eleanor in high dudgeon “let us resume our conversation with these gentlemen who obviously do not like to be kept waiting.”

“Is your pre-meeting meeting completed madam?” a jeering de Vesci sneered “we have other matters to attend to. Now, come tell us what you have to say.”

“We would urge you and your gathering to consider your oath and obligations to King John” retorted Eleanor “He has ruled this Kingdom well and has undertaken a number of significant administrative reforms. In spite of the fancy tales and troubadour’s yarns about good King Richard, the latter was a dead loss to England. Why my Uncle Dick was never here, he was either fighting the Saracens, or besieging some castle on the continent. He was no real King of England at all.”

“The point at issue is whether or not John is willing to allow us our rights and is he willing to allow us to exercise those rights fully” snapped de Vesci.

“How usefully have you used your powers for the good of England my Lord?” demanded Eleanor “why if your demands are just is there so much support for the King from high-ranking individuals, great in esteem amongst all right-minded people.”

“Such as, wench?” interrupted FitzWalter with considerable venom .

“William the Marshal, Earl of Pembroke” responded Eleanor “if there was no-one else, his grey hairs and heroic mien and distinction would counter-balance you all. But you will doubtless ask for others. Ranulph de Blundeville, Earl of Chester a most pragmatic balanced individual if one ever existed. William Ferrers, Earl of Derby supports Ranulph without any dissension whatsoever. Salisbury, Warwick and Devon stout and brave earls are willing to draw their swords with some fervour if the Crown were threatened. Arundel and Earl Warren of Surrey are also firmly behind

King John. Are you barons here willing to turn England upside down and cause yet more friction when if we all keep together and stand side by side we can make this the greatest monarchy in ....”

“Who cares about monarchies?” snarled FitzWalter.

There was a sharp intake of breath amongst the assembled throng. Even Eustace de Vesci coughed nervously at this gaffe by his associate. They were allegedly trying to save the King from himself, not disregard the seat of royal power altogether.

“Yes, my Lord” continued Eleanor seeing her chance to press home her point “there are many here who would wish no ill to the monarch, even amongst your adherents. The King, as I have outlined, has the support of well-respected men, men of your own class and up-bringing. I ask you again would you rip the Kingdom asunder. Think of all there is to lose, you are all men of property and wealth. Why, your great grand-sires if they were alive now would tell you all of the horror and devastation in England when Stephen and Matilda fought for almost twenty years against each other. Civil War is an evil thing. Better to combine our strength against some outside enemy surely?”

“A word with you my Lords”.

Almost for the first time the Earl of Winchester had involved himself in the discussion “I feel we should analyse our position in more detail. Whilst we cannot give a straight yea or nay to the good lady here, we can at least pass the message on to her royal uncle that we are considering all angles, and will provide a more fulsome case when Langton and the Marshal come to see us.”

“Then at least, my lords I can relay to the King that you are prepared to hold fire for the moment and consider what could be lost to us all, our peace of mind and prosperity.”

The curt nod from FitzWalter was as much assent as Eleanor could hope for. The meeting had probably gone as well as she could have expected. She was warming to her role as emissary for her uncle. Yes indeed there could be a position for her in the scheme of things, perhaps even her late brother Arthur might have been proud of her. She would ensure that everyone remembered the Pearl of Brittany. Guy de
Buissant tapped her lightly on the arm indicating their departure. Eleanor smiled to herself, she had momentarily forgotten the good-looking young squire. Yes he had served more than a useful purpose, here was a young man with considerable drive and efficiency. She felt herself, almost against her own wishes warming towards him. A personable youth without doubt.

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