“Well, either I needed to talk with you out of earshot of eavesdroppers or I just fancied a stroll over to the stables.” Geoffrey glanced around to make sure they were alone. “I saw Papa this morn. He wants us to enter into a compact of perpetual peace and swear to abide by his disposition of his domains. Then he asked me again if I was willing to do homage to you for Brittany.”
None of this was news to Hal, and none of it seemed worth freezing his butt over. “So?”
Even in the subdued stable lighting, Geoffrey’s eyes shone like silver. “He is also going to ask Richard to do homage to you for Aquitaine.”
Hal’s jaw dropped. “I am not Richard’s liege lord! He owes allegiance for Aquitaine to the French king.”
Geoffrey had often marveled at Hal’s fondness for belaboring the obvious. “I know, and you may be damned sure that so does Brother Richard.”
“Richard will never agree, never!” Hal burst out laughing. “And when he refuses ever so rudely, Papa will be so wroth with him that my minor sins will be forgotten. Geoff, this is a gift from God. How else explain it-unless the old man has gone stark raving mad?”
“He is not mad,” Geoffrey said, “just desperate,” and he frowned, for however much he told himself that his father did not deserve it, he still felt an unwelcome flicker of pity.
Richard stared at his father in shock. “You cannot be serious?” As suspicious as he so often was of Henry’s schemes, he’d never expected this. “I will never agree to so outrageous a demand. Hal and I stand as equals. Just as he lays legitimate claim to your crown and lands, so do I lay claim to my mother’s inheritance. I owe him nothing for Aquitaine, and I owe you nothing either!”
Henry had known how difficult it would be to gain Richard’s consent, and he was prepared to be as patient as needed. “Will you listen first whilst I explain my reasoning, why I want you to-”
“No, I will not! Aquitaine is my mother’s and it is mine, and I will never give that lazy, idle drone any rights over it. I have been unable to gain my mother’s freedom, but I can safeguard the independence of her homeland, and by God, I will!”
“You can at least hear me out-” But Richard was already heading for the door, and when Henry started after him, his son slammed it resoundingly in his face.
Richard was conferring with the most trusted of his household knights, for he and Andre de Chauvigny were cousins, Andre’s mother being Eleanor’s aunt. So tense was the atmosphere in the chamber that they jumped like startled cats when a knock sounded at the door.
“I am seeing no one, Rico,” Richard instructed his squire, and the youth hurried to do his bidding. As soon as he’d opened the door, though, he spun around to face Richard, his eyes as round as moons.
“My lord,” he stammered, “it…it is the king!”
Richard was impressed that his father had been the one to seek him out, but he was not about to show it. Folding his arms across his chest, he regarded Henry stonily. Andre did not share his sangfroid and quickly found excuses to leave, with Rico right behind him.
“Richard, we need to talk.”
“No, we do not. There is nothing you can say that I care to hear.”
“Do you not even want to know why I would ask that of you?”
“I already know why-because you’d go to any lengths to secure my idiot brother’s feeble hold on power!”
Henry shook his head vehemently. “No, you are wrong. I am trying to protect you, not Hal.”
Richard was so obviously taken aback that Henry seized his chance, and said quickly, “An act of homage is a double-bladed sword. Yes, it would impose obligations upon you, but it would do the same for Hal. As your liege- lord, he would be honor-bound to respect your rule in Aquitaine, would no longer feel so free to conspire with your vassals. He would owe you protection, and you could hold him to that.”
Richard wondered if his father really believed Hal could be fettered by an oath. “I am quite capable of defeating Hal on my own. Indeed, I would welcome the opportunity.”
“Do not hold your brother too cheaply, Richard. Once I am dead, he will have the resources of England, Normandy, and Anjou to draw upon, money to hire more routiers than you could hope to count. Nor would he lack for allies in Aquitaine; you’ve seen to that.”
“Let him do his best,” Richard said, with such bitter bravado that Henry took a step toward him, yearning to shake some sense into this stubborn son of his.
“I am trying to help you, lad! Why will you not let me?”
He sounded so sincere that Richard almost believed him. “Assuming your intentions are good,” he said, with less hostility, “it changes nothing. I will never agree to do homage to Hal. Aquitaine is mine.”
“For how long? Christ Jesus, can you not see the danger you’d be facing? And not just Aquitaine would be at risk. If you and your brother lunge for each other’s throats as soon as I draw my last breath, what do you think will happen to my empire? My life’s work would be undone in a matter of months if you and Hal cannot make peace. Our enemies would be drawn by the scent of blood, and who do you think they’d choose to side with? They’d flock to Hal the way wolves go after a crippled deer, and after they helped take you down, they’d turn on him. Can you not see the truth in what I am saying? I can think of no other way to rein Hal in, to safeguard my legacy, and to keep our family from being ripped asunder.”
“I do not blame you for fearing a future in which Hal is king. His reign will make Stephen’s look like a golden age. But the survival of your empire is not my responsibility. I am the Duke of Aquitaine, not the King of England. As for our family, it is too late. That ship has already run aground.”
“No, you’re wrong, Richard. It is not too late. I will not accept that.”
“Delude yourself if you will. It is no longer my concern.”
Henry drew a labored breath. “What must I do to get you to agree?”
“You have nothing I want.”
“Are you so sure of that?”
Richard’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying, that you’d be willing to free my mother?”
Henry had been braced for this. “If that is the price I must pay for your cooperation, yes. I will release Eleanor after you do homage to Hal.”
“No, I’ll do homage after you release her.”
They stared at each other, having reached the end of the road once again. But this impasse was to be different than their others. Instead of storming out, Henry sat down wearily in the closest seat. “Do you remember asking me at Caen why I would not release Eleanor?”
“Why-are you going to answer me now?” And to Richard’s amazement, his father nodded.
“I am not seeking to punish her. In all honesty, I doubt that I could ever fully forgive her betrayal. But ten years have passed, and we’ve made our peace. Even you cannot deny that her life is much more comfortable than it once was. She has her own chamberlain again, her own servants. Despite your suspicions, I have no intention of keeping Tilda from her. I let Joanna see her, did I not? And the wound was still bleeding then.”
Richard was searching Henry’s face intently. His voice was drained of rage; even those defensive echoes seemed to come more from force of habit than genuine indignation. “Why, then? Why have you not set her free?”
“Because…because I no longer fear she’d conspire against me, but I do believe she’d do so for your sake, or for your brothers if one of you rebelled again.”
That was such a simple answer, one that made sense to Richard, and he wondered why it had not occurred to him. Picking up a stool, he carried it over, and seated himself next to Henry. “Maman has always had an appreciation for irony, but this is a jest worthy of Lucifer himself. She told me once that much of your troubles could be traced to the fact that you saw her as your queen and she saw herself as the Duchess of Aquitaine. You could not have picked a worse time, Papa, to come around to her point of view.”
At that hint of grim humor, Henry’s head came up sharply. He’d not truly expected Richard to understand, had fallen back upon utter honesty because he had no more weapons at hand. He saw now, though, that this son was capable of the sort of dispassionate analysis that had been the cornerstone of his own success, and that was a revelation.
Richard was discovering that he felt more kindly toward his father now that he knew his mother’s
