King of France leave his kingdom if the King of England did not also leave his?’
‘’Tis a fact, Richard, that these two so fear the other that they could not know what one would be about during the other’s absence. What a chance for the warlike fellow to take certain French castles he covets.’
‘And it has always been a whim of the kings of France to take Normandy from the Normans.’
‘Some of my ancestors believe it should never have been given to your ancestor Old Rollo. What a marauding pirate he was! He was not content with his lands of the North, he had to take a part of France as well. And you, my friend, are descended from those pirates. What of that?’
‘I am proud to remember it.’
‘As proud as I am doubtless of Charlemagne. I’ll tell you this, Richard, that one day when I sat gnawing a little green twig one of my barons told another that he would give him his best horse if he could know what the King was thinking. One over bold asked me and I answered him “I am thinking of whether God will grant unto me or one of my heirs grace to exalt France to the height which she was in the time of Charlemagne.”’
‘It is not possible,’ said Richard.
‘If I were to admit that I would be sounding the death knell to my hopes. Nothing was ever achieved by deciding it cannot be done.’
‘So you will begin by snatching the Holy City from Saladin.’
‘’Twill be a beginning.’
‘I long to be there,’ said Richard. ‘It is inconceivable that the Holy Land can remain in the hands of the Infidel.’
‘You long for military glory,’ said Philip. ‘You want your name to resound throughout the world. The greatest of our warriors! It is for this reason you go to the Holy Land?’
Philip had often been an uncomfortable companion. They were too intimate for hypocrisy. Richard’s was the simpler mind; he was direct, he saw good and bad distinctly. Philip was analytical, intellectual, subtle, seeing many aspects of one question. Their characters were opposing and yet they were a complement to each other.
Talking to Philip Richard realised that he did indeed seek military glory. He wanted to recover the Holy Land for Christianity but he yearned most to go into battle and win great honours there.
Philip watched him slyly. There were plans to be made; they had a great deal to talk of.
They rode out together; they hunted as they had done when Richard was at Philip’s court, a beloved hostage.
They swore friendship. They would defend each other’s realms and share any gains that came their way during their crusade. They would be as brothers.
‘This pleases me,’ said Philip. ‘How I have missed you!’
They made plans to meet at Messina. But there was work to be done first. Richard must travel through Normandy to inspire more men to follow him and support him with their worldly goods; but they lingered awhile, neither anxious to cut short this interlude. Richard was less sure of his feelings towards Philip than Philip was towards him. In Philip’s eyes Richard was physically perfect. He greatly admired the long Norman limbs, the grace of movement, the blonde good looks, the vitality which was not impaired even by the recurrent attacks of fever. He loved this man and yet at times he hated him. They were friends but theirs was too passionate a relationship to be peaceful. By the very nature of their positions they must be enemies. It was inconceivable that a king of England who was also a duke of Normandy could be regarded with anything but suspicion by a king of France. Normandy was a thorn in the side of all kings of France. It was the secret dream of every king who loved France to bring back Normandy to the crown. How could it be otherwise? The land had been filched from them by the pirate Norsemen and, although that had happened many years before, Normandy to the French would never be anything but theirs. And since William the Conqueror had brought the crown of England to add to the
‘’Tis a fact, Richard, that these two so fear the other that they could not know what one would be about during the other’s absence. What a chance for the warlike fellow to take certain French castles he covets.’
‘And it has always been a whim of the kings of France to take Normandy from the Normans.’
‘Some of my ancestors believe it should never have been given to your ancestor Old Rollo. What a marauding pirate he was! He was not content with his lands of the North, he had to take a part of France as well. And you, my friend, are descended from those pirates. What of that?’
‘I am proud to remember it.’
‘As proud as I am doubtless of Charlemagne. I’ll tell you this, Richard, that one day when I sat gnawing a little green twig one of my barons told another that he would give him his best horse if he could know what the King was thinking. One over bold asked me and I answered him “I am thinking of whether God will grant unto me or one of my heirs grace to exalt France to the height which she was in the time of Charlemagne.”’
‘It is not possible,’ said Richard.
‘If I were to admit that I would be sounding the death knell to my hopes. Nothing was ever achieved by deciding it cannot be done.’
‘So you will begin by snatching the Holy City from Saladin.’
‘’Twill be a beginning.’
‘I long to be there,’ said Richard. ‘It is inconceivable that the Holy Land can remain in the hands of the Infidel.’
‘You long for military glory,’ said Philip. ‘You want your name to resound throughout the world. The greatest of our warriors! It is for this reason you go to the Holy Land?’
Philip had often been an uncomfortable companion. They were too intimate for hypocrisy. Richard’s was the simpler mind; he was direct, he saw good and bad distinctly. Philip was analytical, intellectual, subtle, seeing many aspects of one question. Their characters were opposing and yet they were a complement to each other.
Talking to Philip Richard realised that he did indeed seek military glory. He wanted to recover the Holy Land for Christianity but he yearned most to go into battle and win great honours there.
Philip watched him slyly. There were plans to be made; they had a great deal to talk of.
They rode out together; they hunted as they had done when Richard was at Philip’s court, a beloved hostage.
They swore friendship. They would defend each other’s realms and share any gains that came their way during their crusade. They would be as brothers.
‘This pleases me,’ said Philip. ‘How I have missed you!’
They made plans to meet at Messina. But there was work to be done first. Richard must travel through Normandy to inspire more men to follow him and support him with their worldly goods; but they lingered awhile, neither anxious to cut short this interlude. Richard was less sure of his feelings towards Philip than Philip was towards him. In Philip’s eyes Richard was physically perfect. He greatly admired the long Norman limbs, the grace of movement, the blonde good looks, the vitality which was not impaired even by the recurrent attacks of fever. He loved this man and yet at times he hated him. They were friends but theirs was too passionate a relationship to be peaceful. By the very nature of their positions they must be enemies. It was inconceivable that a king of England who was also a duke of Normandy could be regarded with anything but suspicion by a king of France. Normandy was a thorn in the side of all kings of France. It was the secret dream of every king who loved France to bring back Normandy to the crown. How could it be otherwise? The land had been filched from them by the pirate Norsemen and, although that had happened many years before, Normandy to the French would never be anything but theirs. And since William the Conqueror had brought the crown of England to add to the
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