empire.’
‘I know, and I am sorry. I was drunk and surprised by your sudden appearance. But the rumours about you and my grandmother, you must admit, have been gossiped about for years.’
‘That is as it may be, but rumours are what they are. And they don’t justify you speaking of them to all and sundry. Your grandmother and I were very close for many years, right up to the end of her life. That’s all that anybody needs to know.’
‘I agree, please accept my apologies.’
‘Now, the second thing: the state of your army. It’s a shambles—’
‘How so, Earl Harold? They fight like Trojans and have overwhelmed every fortress we’ve challenged.’
‘—as evidenced by our ability to reach your own chamber in the middle of the night, almost unopposed. Good siege engineers and a rabble of mercenaries do not an army make. If we had been cut-throats, you would be dead now.’
‘I grant you that I should be more conscious of my own security. But when it comes to a fight, my men can overcome anything sent against them.’
‘I don’t doubt that they are seasoned soldiers, good in a skirmish – and especially in a brawl – but a pitched battle between armies requires a lot more than men who are good at killing.’
The Duke looked perplexed.
‘You are young,’ observed the Earl. ‘How many major battles have you fought in?’
Duke Richard did not answer; it was obvious that his fighting had been restricted to sieges and small encounters.
‘Wars are won by tactics, logistics and planning; only after those things have been taken care of is it time to fight. Then, discipline becomes the key. Men who can fight as an individual or in small groups need discipline if they are going to fight in large numbers. Only right at the climax of a battle, when it is man against man, does the ability to fight become important. Up to that point, rigid discipline is vital. An army of good men, without the discipline to take orders and act in unison, can be run off the field in a few minutes of panic.’
The Duke listened intently to Earl Harold’s lecture on generalship.
‘Are the deficiencies in my army easily remedied?’
‘Yes, but it will take time. The mighty army of King Harold of England and that of your great-great- grandfather, King William, the Conqueror of the English, were a lifetime in the making. But you have time; you’re still only a young man. One day, when you rule this mighty Plantagenet Empire, you will need an army that can defeat anything that opposes it. You start from a strong base; you are already recognized for the strength of your resolve and for your chivalry. Your mother taught you well. But if you want to lead a powerful army one day, you should start the preparations now.’
‘Will you help me with that?’
‘Of course, but only for a short time. I am old now and I have a home to return to, where I want to see out my days in peace. But I will leave you with these men; they have all the skills and wisdom you need.’
‘Then you had better make the formal introductions.’
‘This is Father Alun, one of the cleverest men in England. He knows everything you need to know about the history of the peoples of your realm.’
‘But, Earl Harold, a scribe of history, how can he help me build an army?’
‘Because without the wisdom of the past, you cannot understand the present. And nor can you shape the future.’
Father Alun stepped forward, bowed slightly and offered the Duke his hand. Duke Richard grasped it, a little hesitantly, clearly not convinced that he needed a learned monk in his entourage. Even so, he was polite in his response.
‘Welcome to Aquitaine, Father Alun.’
‘And this is Ranulf of Lancaster, hand-picked by me from the elite officers of your father’s garrison at Westminster. He is an exemplary knight and the finest of soldiers.’
I bowed to the Duke and held out my hand. He grasped it warmly.
‘Sir Ranulf, that is a glowing introduction. Welcome to the army of Aquitaine.’
‘Earl Harold is very kind; I hope I can do justice to his praise.’
The rest of the dark winter of 1176 was spent watching the ageing Earl Harold and the young Duke Richard become closer and closer. They hunted together and spent countless hours talking. Richard was fascinated by the stories he heard, especially about England’s civil war, when the Empress Matilda’s army was led by Earl Harold, as she tried to claim the throne from her cousin, Stephen.
Father Alun and I shared in many of these conversations and we soon developed a strong bond with the young Duke.
Eventually, as the New Year approached, Richard decided it was time to move south to confront his intractable lords in Gascony and beyond. That was a journey too far for Earl Harold, especially in the depths of winter. His campaigning days were over and it was time for him to return to his home to the east of Bordeaux. When he was preparing to leave, I asked him where his home was.
‘It is many miles to the east of here, high up above the River Lot. It sits at the top of a crag above the river and has wonderful views down the valley. It is called St Cirq Lapopie and it is as pretty as its name suggests.’ He looked to the east, with a hint of tears in his eyes. ‘It is a special place. I will be buried there; perhaps you will come and see my grave when your adventure with Richard is over. I would like to know the outcome of his life. Perhaps you can sit by my grave and recount it to me; I may even be able to hear you above the fires of Hell.’
‘I would be happy to, my Lord, but I doubt that Hell awaits you after such a noble life.’
‘Sadly, young Ranulf, you only know the half of it. When you learn more, you may have the same misgivings that I have about my eternal destiny.’
He smiled sagely, and I responded with as much admiration in my expression as I could muster. As he was in a reflective mood, I took the opportunity to prod him again about my mission.
‘My Lord, I realize that I am expected to help the Duke build his army and prepare for the day when he is King. But I suspect there is more to my mission than that.’
‘There is, but it is only detail, and Father Alun carries all that in his head.’
‘How will I know when my task is complete?’
‘You will know. Just remember why you were chosen, and keep in mind all the things from your past that you believe in. Those are things that will guide you. It is your life that will unfold as well as the Duke’s. You are helping shape his destiny, but also your own. When you know more about my family from Father Alun, you will understand. Eventually, you will become part of my family’s journey and we will be proud to have you.’
‘Earl Harold, I relish the opportunity to help England’s cause and that of your family.’
‘Good, because they are one and the same thing. Young Richard has little regard for the English part of his father’s vast realm, so it is important that you and Father Alun help him understand what England means to us and why its future is so important.’
The next day was a poignant one for all of us. For several days, the warmer air from the west had been replaced by a much cooler wind from the east. The ground had turned cold, and ponds and lakes had frozen. As the morning wore on, the icy easterly wind subsided and a stillness settled over us. But it was only a temporary tranquillity; heavy dark-grey clouds filled the sky over the sea to the west, and by mid-morning heavy snow began to fall.
The stillness became an eerie silence as the snow covered everything like a death shroud. Everyone in Bordeaux stayed in their homes, and the men of Duke Richard’s army huddled in their tents. Braziers were lit beyond the awnings and their flaps pulled back to encourage heat to circulate inside.
In the midst of this ghostly scene, I saw Earl Harold busying himself. He was preparing his mount and packing his belongings on to two bay sumpters. I called to Father Alun and walked over to the Earl.
‘My Lord, would it not be wise to wait until the snow stops?’
‘I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I like the snow, it brings back fond memories.’
‘Of what, may I ask?’
He did not answer, but a look of nostalgia spread across his face. Father Alun answered for him by
