and the main castle gate remained closed.
The King turned to me, smiling.
‘More sport tomorrow.’
Then he gave instructions for the bodies of the fallen – men who, despite their traitorous allegiance to Prince John, were still his subjects – to be removed with due ceremony and respect, before ordering his men to set up camp for the night.
The next day, when we began to build one of the huge siege engines used in the Holy Land and to prepare the Greek fire, the castle gates opened. Leading out the garrison were the last two rebels who had allied themselves to Prince John’s cause: Robert Brito and Hugh of Nonant. They were both lords of little consequence who, like many others, had gambled that the King would not return from his captivity.
They fell to their knees and begged the Lionheart for forgiveness, which he duly granted. Not only that: he stepped forward and lifted both of them from the ground.
‘Go to Prince John in Normandy; tell him that he has nothing to fear from his brother, who loves him dearly. Reassure him that, for the future of England and the Empire, he will be treated with magnanimity, as I have treated you.’
After the breaking of the siege, the King called a Great Council of the realm to gather at Nottingham and then, while the preparations were being made, we went hunting in the Forest of Sherwood. Propitiously, the land was owned by Earl Harold. I learned that it had been a gift from the Lionheart’s great-grandfather, a grateful King Henry Beauclerc, while the Earl was in his service.
Two days later, when we were deep in the forest and relaxing by a camp fire, the King handed me a sealed scroll.
‘These are the deeds to Earl Harold’s estates. He holds much of this forest, but also land at Barnsdale and Loxley Chase. These estates are yours now; he had no heirs, so it is only right that they should go to you.’
I was shocked and delighted.
‘I am so grateful, my Lord. You are more than generous.’
‘Not at all, you deserve it. The income will give you a life of comfort; after what you have been through on my behalf, that’s the least you should expect. I must also make good my promise to establish a foundation for Abbot Alun. Will you help me with that?’
‘I will, indeed, sire. In fact, may I offer you an ideal solution?’
He looked at me inquisitively.
‘Do I sense that you have hatched a plot, and that it may involve the beautiful Negu?’
‘I have and it does, my Lord. My rendezvous with Negu at Rupertsberg exceeded my wildest dreams. In fact, with your agreement, we would like to establish a foundation in memory of Alun. She holds the status of Prioress in the Rule of St Augustine and can easily recruit a prior, monks and nuns from the Rhine to begin a new community.’
‘A cunning scheme, my friend.’
The Lionheart laughed heartily, and put his arm around my shoulder.
‘And if this foundation happened to be near your lands in the north, where you and Negu could enjoy communion together on a regular basis, that would be, as you put it, “an ideal solution”?’
‘Something like that, my Lord.’
He then laughed again, with even more gusto.
‘Let me speak with Roger de Lacy, Lord of Bowland; he’s a good man and owns most of the lands north of the Ribble. I’m sure he can find you a place where a community can flourish.’
We hunted well in the ancient Forest of Sherwood, and it was a time of unbounded happiness for me. I had brought the King home safely, he had regained control of England, and it looked like Negu and I would have a life together.
I had only one more task to perform, which was to complete my undertaking to Earl Harold and pass on his casket to the King.
But for that, I had to wait for the right moment.
At the Council of Nottingham, which began on 30 March 1194, the King made secure the resumption of his authority over England. He appointed nineteen new men to be sheriffs of the domain’s twenty-eight shires, all of which produced substantial income for the Exchequer. He also accepted a large number of pleas and requests from plaintiffs and made numerous other appointments. They were mostly petitions that had not been pursued while Prince John held sway – because men did not trust him – and they brought more new income. At the end of the Council, William Longchamp, the King’s Chancellor, announced that Winchester’s treasury held 25,292 pounds in gold and silver, a large increase over the previous year’s amount.
As the Council closed and the King thanked everybody for their attendance and loyalty, he raised his sword and proclaimed loudly.
‘Now to Normandy, to deal with the lamentable King of the French!’
He called me over a little later, still beaming about the geld he held at Winchester.
‘You were right, my friend, this is a land of good and loyal people. Not only that, it is rich and pays its taxes. I have a sufficient war chest to meet Philip Augustus head on and win back what John has given away. I have mobilized the army and called out the Grand Quintet. I am seeing William the Lion at Southwell Minster next week, to make sure he and his Scottish lords still support me, and then I will sail to Normandy. A fleet of a hundred ships is gathering at Portsmouth – a new port I am creating in the west – ready for the crossing to Barfleur.’
‘Very well, sire, I will be ready.’
‘No, Ranulf, not this time. Get Negu established in the north first. She will need your help; it is a lawless part of the world, but one that you know well. You are to take a two-year sabbatical, then you can join me.’
‘But, sire, your campaign could be over by then.’
‘I doubt it; the border with the French is not like England. Loyalty means nothing there. With Philip’s meddling and John’s duplicity, it will take me years to bring them to heel.’
‘I hope this does not mean the end of my service to you?’
‘Of course not, I will always be in need of your wisdom and your friendship.’
The King put his hands on my shoulders and embraced me warmly.
‘Come, I want you to meet Roger de Lacy; he has some news for you.’
The Lord of Bowland was a direct descendant of one of William the Conqueror’s warriors at Senlac Ridge and the epitome of the formidable Norman warlord of the past.
‘Ah, Sir Ranulf, the King has told me about you. I would be honoured to have you as a tenant.’
‘The honour would be all mine, my Lord.’
‘The King tells me that you want to bring to the north a prioress from the community of Hildegard of Bingen?’
‘Indeed, my Lord.’
‘And that she is not only a woman of similar worth to the good Abbess Hildegard, but is also very beautiful?’
‘She is, and a very devout woman of high repute.’
‘So I hear.’
He cast a mischievous glance at the King.
‘Well, I have the ideal place for you. It’s in the valley of the Wharfe, at Bolton, just north of Skipton. The land is held by Hawise, Countess of Aumale, daughter of my cousin Alice of Romille, my vassal at Skipton Castle. She has just married again and is so rich from her holdings in Normandy, she can spare a small estate in the distant north. It has enough arable land along the valley for a reasonable community to thrive, and there is grazing for sheep that extends high on to the moors above. Will that do?’
‘It will, my Lord; I am most grateful.’
‘Very well, my steward will draw up the documents. The King has told me that you saved his life more than once and went through the purgatory of prison with him. That being so, you will have the tenancy at two-thirds of the price.’
‘Thank you, my Lord.’
We shook hands and the King placed his gauntlet over them.
