The Heart of the Lion Read Free Page A

emotion.
    There could be no doubt of his kingliness. He excelled in all manly pastimes. It had been so since the days of his boyhood. He was very tall, having the long arms and legs of his Norman ancestors as well as their blonde good looks; his hair was auburn, his eyes deep blue and he had more than mere good looks; his grace of carriage, his kingly air were unsurpassed, and in any company of men he would have been selected as the King.
    She was weak with pride – she who was usually so strong and rarely a prey for her emotions! This was the son whom she had reared and she had recognised his superior qualities from his babyhood; they had been the allies and had stood together against his father and the bastard Geoffrey who had been brought into the royal nursery. He had been her boy from the day he was born and the bond, she fervently prayed, would be severed only by death.
    ‘How my heart rejoices to see you here,’ she said.
    ‘There was much to be done across the sea before I could come.’
    ‘Your subjects have been prepared to welcome you.’
    ‘Mother, I know you have done good work for me.’
    ‘I trust I shall never do aught but good work for you, my son.’
    He scowled when Ranulph de Glanville approached to pay the homage, which he received coldly. Eleanor smiled realising that Richard was thinking of this man as his mother’s jailer. She must make him understand the importance of Glanville. He must not make an enemy of such a man. There would be much of which she must warn him, and she hoped he loved her enough to let her guide him.
    ‘Let us make our way to the castle,’ she said. ‘There shall be such feasting and revelry as is becoming to the arrival of the King.’
    ‘There is much we must talk of.’
    ‘Much indeed.’
    ‘How it rejoices me that you are here beside me. It will lighten my lot. You will care for matters here while I am away.’
    Her happiness was tinged with apprehension. When he was away? But of course he would have to be away. His dominions were widely spread. That must be what he meant.
    She dismissed her fears and gave herself up to the pleasure of seeing homage done to him as he entered the castle. How nobly he accepted it! She noticed how people looked at him.
    There never could have been a man who looked so much a king.

    To be alone with him, to talk to him of secret matters, to share his confidences, that was a great joy to her.
    ‘Your coronation must take place immediately,’ she advised. ‘Once a king is crowned he is in truth a king; before that . . .’ She lifted her shoulders.
    ‘I have decided it shall be on the third day of September.’
    ‘Isn’t that an unlucky day?’
    He laughed aloud. ‘Mother, I take no heed of these superstitions.’
    ‘Others may.’
    ‘Then let them. I shall pass into London on the first day of the month, and there I shall be crowned King.’
    ‘So be it,’ she said. ‘The important point is that the ceremony takes place without delay. Richard, I must speak to you of Alice. She is here.’
    ‘In this castle?’
    ‘Under restraint. I thought that as I had suffered it so long it would do her no harm to have a little taste of it.’
    He nodded but he was frowning. ‘What must be done with her? I’ll not have her.’
    ‘We must not forget that her brother is the King of France.’
    A shadow passed across his face. How did he feel about Philip now? There was no doubt that they had once been very close friends. Was that due to love or expediency on Richard’s part? He had once needed the friendship of the King of France when his own father was his enemy. Now that he was King of England – and all Kings of England must be wary of Kings of France – had his feelings changed? The one time friend . . . lover . . . was he now a deadly rival?
    ‘I care not who her brother is,’ said Richard, ‘I’ll have none of my father’s cast-offs.’
    ‘Your father never cast her off. He was faithful to the end they say . . . faithful