because he was anxious for Sir Hugh.
Edward was happier to risk the life and livelihood of his own son than he was to risk the neck of his lover.
‘He would have something to say about this, wouldn’t he?’ the king was saying.
His words brought Sir Hugh back to the present. ‘Who, your highness?’
‘I said, the prophet here, Jeremiah, he would have had much to say about my reign, wouldn’t he?’
Sir Hugh racked his brains. ‘Jeremiah – he foretold of the disaster that was about to overwhelm the Holy Land, did he not?
When the Babylonians overran it?’
‘Yes. He was rejected by his own people because they felt he was a doom-monger, always giving them the worst, never telling
them that all would grow better. He was as popular as
I
am.’
The king had a break in his voice as he spoke, and Sir Hugh took a breath. ‘Sire, you are much loved by your people. It is
not your fault that—’
‘I have been astonishingly unlucky. Look at me! I was feted when I was crowned, but one thing after another has set the seal
on my reign. The Scottish, the French, the bastards from the borders – and there’s been nothing I could do about any of it!
As soon as I had the opportunity, I took my host to the lords marcher, and I defeated them, didn’t I? But that wasn’t good
enough to recover my reign. The people detest me. No! Don’t think to lie to me, Sir Hugh! I know what they are thinking. And
now even my queen has deserted me. She sits there in France with her brother and entertains his friends and my enemies, and
I cannot be sure what she intends. Fickle woman!’
‘We shall soon know, sire.’
But the king was not to be consoled, and when Sir Hugh left him some while later, it was with a worried frown at his brow.
Edward’sfears were all too well known to him, but it seemed that the man’s concerns were growing daily into fully developed panic.
And that was enough to give Sir Hugh cause for thought. His own position in the world was dependent entirely on the king’s
goodwill.
Sir Hugh had thought that when the Welsh marches rose in rebellion against him, it was a master stroke to have the king raise
an army and march with him. At the time it had seemed the most ingenious response. Those who had sought to meet Sir Hugh in
battle instead found themselves faced by the king’s banners. Any who attempted to fight would now be branded as traitors.
Their declarations of loyalty to the king were irrelevant. They had tried to impose their will on the king, and Edward had
suffered from that kind of interference before. He had been forced to submit to men who enforced ordinances restricting his
freedom to rule as he wished. When he tried to reward his favourite, Piers Gaveston, the earls had captured Piers and executed
him. Edward would not permit any man to stand in his way again. He had decided that he loved Sir Hugh, and any who sought
Sir Hugh’s destruction was an enemy of the king.
But the sheer brilliance of his scheming had concealed one possible risk. Sir Hugh had first seen to the capture of his worst
enemy, the bastard grandson of the murderer Mortimer, may he rot in hell for all eternity. Roger Mortimer, the grandfather,
had slaughtered Sir Hugh’s own grandsire at Evesham, and the Despensers were not a family to forget a blood feud. So Sir Hugh’s
first ambition was to have Mortimer held for a brief period, and then executed as a traitor to the king. And he had almost
succeeded. The king had agreed, after two years of careful persuasion, and Mortimer would have been dead already, except the
fortunate devil had learned of the death warrant being signed, and had made a daring escape from the Tower of London. Now
he was living abroad, plotting the downfall of Sir Hugh, no doubt. Rumours of his negotiations in Hainault for mercenaries
and ships had come to Despenser’s spies.
When the rebels were all captured or beaten, flying from the country, Sir
Edward was happier to risk the life and livelihood of his own son than he was to risk the neck of his lover.
‘He would have something to say about this, wouldn’t he?’ the king was saying.
His words brought Sir Hugh back to the present. ‘Who, your highness?’
‘I said, the prophet here, Jeremiah, he would have had much to say about my reign, wouldn’t he?’
Sir Hugh racked his brains. ‘Jeremiah – he foretold of the disaster that was about to overwhelm the Holy Land, did he not?
When the Babylonians overran it?’
‘Yes. He was rejected by his own people because they felt he was a doom-monger, always giving them the worst, never telling
them that all would grow better. He was as popular as
I
am.’
The king had a break in his voice as he spoke, and Sir Hugh took a breath. ‘Sire, you are much loved by your people. It is
not your fault that—’
‘I have been astonishingly unlucky. Look at me! I was feted when I was crowned, but one thing after another has set the seal
on my reign. The Scottish, the French, the bastards from the borders – and there’s been nothing I could do about any of it!
As soon as I had the opportunity, I took my host to the lords marcher, and I defeated them, didn’t I? But that wasn’t good
enough to recover my reign. The people detest me. No! Don’t think to lie to me, Sir Hugh! I know what they are thinking. And
now even my queen has deserted me. She sits there in France with her brother and entertains his friends and my enemies, and
I cannot be sure what she intends. Fickle woman!’
‘We shall soon know, sire.’
But the king was not to be consoled, and when Sir Hugh left him some while later, it was with a worried frown at his brow.
Edward’sfears were all too well known to him, but it seemed that the man’s concerns were growing daily into fully developed panic.
And that was enough to give Sir Hugh cause for thought. His own position in the world was dependent entirely on the king’s
goodwill.
Sir Hugh had thought that when the Welsh marches rose in rebellion against him, it was a master stroke to have the king raise
an army and march with him. At the time it had seemed the most ingenious response. Those who had sought to meet Sir Hugh in
battle instead found themselves faced by the king’s banners. Any who attempted to fight would now be branded as traitors.
Their declarations of loyalty to the king were irrelevant. They had tried to impose their will on the king, and Edward had
suffered from that kind of interference before. He had been forced to submit to men who enforced ordinances restricting his
freedom to rule as he wished. When he tried to reward his favourite, Piers Gaveston, the earls had captured Piers and executed
him. Edward would not permit any man to stand in his way again. He had decided that he loved Sir Hugh, and any who sought
Sir Hugh’s destruction was an enemy of the king.
But the sheer brilliance of his scheming had concealed one possible risk. Sir Hugh had first seen to the capture of his worst
enemy, the bastard grandson of the murderer Mortimer, may he rot in hell for all eternity. Roger Mortimer, the grandfather,
had slaughtered Sir Hugh’s own grandsire at Evesham, and the Despensers were not a family to forget a blood feud. So Sir Hugh’s
first ambition was to have Mortimer held for a brief period, and then executed as a traitor to the king. And he had almost
succeeded. The king had agreed, after two years of careful persuasion, and Mortimer would have been dead already, except the
fortunate devil had learned of the death warrant being signed, and had made a daring escape from the Tower of London. Now
he was living abroad, plotting the downfall of Sir Hugh, no doubt. Rumours of his negotiations in Hainault for mercenaries
and ships had come to Despenser’s spies.
When the rebels were all captured or beaten, flying from the country, Sir
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