respects to him before the Emperor’s men escorted him away. He had won a great victory, perhaps the most important of his life, and he had achieved it not with his sword but with his words. The Abbess Hildegard would have heartily approved.
Accounts of his defence would soon spread around Europe like a fire across a field of stubble. His bravura had not made him a free man, but the intended humbling of a great King had been thwarted.
29. Purgatory
After the King was taken away from the nave of St Mary’s, I did not see him again for several days. It was a very fraught interlude. Although it seemed unlikely that the Emperor would harm him after what had happened in the cathedral, the King was a long way from home and in the grip of a very angry and humiliated man.
Perhaps an ‘accident’ would be arranged, or a sudden ‘illness’. Neither Charles nor Clovis could get anyone to divulge anything regarding the Lionheart’s whereabouts; we were restricted to our billet and closely watched. My anxiety grew with every day that passed.
Then, early on the fourth morning, our door was thrown open and, accompanied by a posse of warriors, a sergeant ordered us to be ready to leave within the half-hour. To my horror, by the end of that day, we were back in the castellated ossuary of Trifels. This time, I was spared the oubliette that I had suffered before, but was instead given the comparative luxury of a small room high up in the north-west tower. At least it had a garderobe, a window and a palliasse to sleep on. Clovis and Charles were nearby, but the Lionheart was nowhere to be seen.
I wrestled with the conundrum. Did our return to Trifels mean the King was safe, or doomed? I decided that it must be good news. If he had come to an unfortunate end, there would be no reason to keep us alive, so he must still be amongst the living. However, as soon as I had come to a positive conclusion, I changed my mind. If they had murdered the King, it would look much more suspicious if we also died. Thus, we would be spared to add credibility to his ‘accidental’ death. Perhaps the deed would be done at Trifels at the hands of the odious Castellan.
My mind spun with the possibilities.
Two days later, all three of us were taken to a higher level in the tower.
In a simple room, but one that was a little more refined than mine, looking quite relaxed and humming a tune, was the King. This time, his greeting was reminiscent of the Lionheart I remembered. He jumped to his feet and embraced me warmly.
‘Good to see you, Ranulf, if not in the most auspicious of circumstances.’
‘It is good to see you, sire.’
‘What did you think about Speyer; wasn’t it splendid?’
‘Indeed it was, my Lord. How did the Emperor get himself off the hook you put him on with your performance?’
‘Very cleverly. The next day, the Archbishop gave his judgement; but the Emperor would not allow it to be announced in public. I was exonerated of all charges.’
‘So, does that mean you are free to go, sire?’
The King smiled, and I realized immediately how naive my question had been.
‘My dear Ranulf, you have been around the halls of power long enough to know nothing is as simple as that. The Emperor summoned me to see him in private. Only his Chamberlain and the Archbishop of Worms were there. He was furious with me, but took great satisfaction in outlining his devilish scheme.’
The King turned to the two abbots.
‘You are to return to England tomorrow; listen well, you must take this news to Queen Eleanor. The Emperor is now saying that, as the charges against me have been repudiated and Leopold of Austria is now the villain of the piece, he has done the noble thing by acting as guarantor of the ransom demanded by Leopold.’
Abbot Charles saw through the ruse straight away.
‘But, sire, that’s tantamount to the same position as before.’
‘Of course, but it gets the Emperor off the charge of being my cruel jailor and passes the opprobrium to Leopold.’
‘So, my Lord, if Henry is guaranteeing the ransom, then you can go?’
‘I’m afraid it’s much more diabolical than that, good Abbot. The Emperor is also saying that Leopold will only accept his guarantee when the geld is delivered. And as no one other than Queen Eleanor can produce such a sum in the immediate future, I have to stay in Germany until she has arrived with a convoy of cartloads carrying enough ingots to cover Henry’s pledge.’
We all looked bewildered.
‘Yes, it’s a semantic trick. My plight is exactly as it was before, and any man with the intelligence of a stoat can see through it. But, on the surface, it saves the Emperor’s face. It’s stunningly clever in its simplicity.’
The King strode to his window and looked out across the valley below and, beyond it, to the Rhine.
‘So, gentlemen, make haste to Westminster and tell the Queen to stoke the furnaces and melt barrels of coins into silver ingots as fast as the smiths can toil. In the meantime, Ranulf and I will play chess and watch the summer bloom in Swabia.’
I looked at the King; all my anxieties for his future returned. Trifels was a purgatory for him and would not be eased when he discovered that I had never played chess.
As the two abbots rose to leave, the King stopped them.
‘I have a scroll for you. It is for Blondel; it’s a new chanson I have written for him. Songs help me with the loneliness. A few weeks ago, I heard of the treachery of two companions who were with us in the Holy Land, Geoffrey of Perche and William of Caieux. Their lands are on the border with King Philip’s French realm, and they have declared for him. This brute of a Castellan here made sure I was given the news when it arrived from Paris. So, I have written a little lament; it’s rather melancholy, I’m afraid, but it reflected my mood at the time and comforted me. It’s called “No Man Who’s Jailed”.’
He then sat in his chair and started to sing in a melodious voice with a timbre as fine as any troubadour.
