The Bastard King (41 page)

But they were too close not to be necessary to each other.

She was at her tapestry when he came to her and told her that Sampson had escaped to a monastery.

‘He will stay there in sanctuary. Doubtless he will become a monk. So he keeps his eyes. He has you to thank for them.'

‘If he had lost them he would have had me to blame.'

‘But you saw that he found refuge, did you not? Your agents warned him. Is that not so?'

‘That's so,' she said.

He laughed then. Then he embraced her. ‘By God's Splendour,' he said, ‘I must keep a firm hand on those who work against me.'

But he would never wholly trust her again. She knew it and it saddened her. When he left for England she was still Regent but there were those who were set to watch her.

He loved her, he needed her, but he no longer trusted her. She loved him, she needed him, but she would betray him for the sake of her son.

She could never admire Robert as she admired William. She knew that she had married the greatest man of his age and her love for her son did not blind her to his weakness. The arrogance, the love of power, the desire to be popular and appreciated, the fancy for finery, the preoccupation with women, choosing friends who flattered him, hating criticism, always looking for the slight – these were not the qualities which made a ruler. But he was her son and she loved him; she did not know why she must devote herself to him in preference to William, except that Robert was weak and William was strong.

Robert would never love her as William did. Yet William for all his strength needed her too.

She, a woman who admired strength and power must turn from William for Robert's sake. Why? Love was something too subtle for her understanding.

Gone were the happy years. Never again would she know them. Even when she had been separated from William she had had the excitement of waiting for his return. Every day she had looked for him and the overwhelming joy when he arrived had been an event outstanding in a lifetime of outstanding events.

Never again.

She feared his coming for that might mean that Robert was making an attack on one of his strongholds. He would come suspiciously, wondering how much of the treasure she had given had gone towards building up Robert's strength.

There was news and that from Robert. He was gathering adherents to his banner. There were always men to be jealous of William. He was a power in Europe. King of England and Duke of Normandy; there were many watchful eyes upon him.

The King of France, while not wishing to indulge in open warfare with William, would not be displeased to see strife in his kingdom. When Robert appealed to him for help he declared that it was a sad thing to see the heir of Normandy dispossessed of his rights and roaming the countryside
seeking supporters. He would therefore give him the castle of Gerberoi so that he might have headquarters in which to carry out his plans.

This was naturally construed as an act of friendship to Robert and as a result many Frenchmen flocked to his banner and perceiving this, those Normans who felt they had a grievance against William did not see why they should not join their fortunes with those of the heir. They had nothing to lose, for William would give them nothing and it seemed likely that Robert must inherit sooner or later, since William could not live for ever.

When this news reached William in England he was filled with wrath. He sent for Rufus who was constantly with him and who, now that he knew that he was to inherit England on the death of his father, was determined to please him.

Rufus was a good soldier who revelled in the hunt, even as William did, so that they had many a good excursion into the forest together. It seemed that this son was making up for the loss of Richard and the treachery of Robert. If he could have one good son he supposed he should consider himself lucky.

Rufus was ambitious. There was young Henry to consider of course, but he by this time was with Lanfranc and proving himself quite a scholar. Henry for the Church, then, for the archbishop's role was an important one as his Uncle Odo was proving in England now. (Sometimes he wondered whether the power he now had was changing Odo.) But it was as well to have one of the members of the family in the Church.

‘Listen to this,' said William to his son. ‘Curthose has set up his banner at Gerberoi. French and Normans are rallying to him. He plans to set himself up as Duke. What say you, my son?'

‘I say this,' said Rufus. ‘It is time we set out for Normandy to show him that we have other plans.'

Rufus's red face glowed with passion; the Conqueror looked at his son with approval. They were, as so often, of one mind.

Matilda took to her bed. She felt dizzy and sick. That it should have come to this – William and Robin fighting against
each other! It was for Robert she trembled. If they came face to face how would he fare in the hands of the old warrior? What hope would he have? In her mind's eye she saw the lance pierce his heart.

Who would have dreamed of this when he was a baby and they had both been so proud of him. If he had had long legs like Richard, if he had had the Norman looks, would it have been different?

She tried to pray but if she prayed for Robert's safety might she not be praying for William's defeat? But William had never been defeated. In the countless battles in which he had taken part not one drop of his blood had ever been shed.

‘Oh God,' she prayed, ‘save my son.'

On the plain of Archembraye beside the castle of Gerberoi the battle raged fiercely. In William's heart there blazed a mounting anger. The fact that the man he had sired had dared take up arms against him and was leading this attack seemed to him incredible. It was like a bad dream.

‘By God's Splendour,' he had vowed, ‘I will show this Curthose what it means to take up arms against me.'

He did not believe the battle would last long. He despised Curthose. He had not the experience. He had nothing to commend him. It was true he had managed to gather together a formidable force and it was shocking to think that so many Normans had rallied to his banner. William himself was relying on some of his English troops whom he had brought with him. But he was the general and with him in charge a handful of men could make short work of a legion.

It was with some dismay that he discovered all was not going as he wished. What had happened? Had some sorcerer put a spell on him? Fleetingly he thought of Matilda – on her knees no doubt, praying for the success of her son.

He was attacked at the rear and he had not expected this. Suddenly the ranks of his troops seemed to disintegrate. He roared at them but they could not re-form.

A lance pierced his arm and he fell. The enemy was upon him. He, the Conqueror, had been unhorsed and was at their mercy.

He must get up. He must remount. He must be there to lead his troops.

He began to shout. ‘Help me up. Get me on my horse. Don't you see who I am?'

A man was bending over him ready to strike. At the sound of his voice his assailant paused. He lifted his vizor and the man who was preparing to kill him was his own son Robert.

It was almost as though fate had contrived this dramatic moment. There lay the Conqueror defenceless on the ground and standing over him lance in hand ready to pierce him through the heart was his son.

Robert stammered: ‘Father!'

‘Yes, you traitor!' roared William. ‘It is your father.'

Robert knelt down. ‘Oh God, so it is indeed you.'

‘Well, you have your lance. It is a fitting deed and one I would expect of you.'

But Robert laid down his lance.

‘Let me set you on your horse,' he said.

‘You are a fool,' retorted William. ‘I am at your mercy. Slay me now and carry my head to your mother. Doubtless she will applaud you.'

‘Father,' said Robert, ‘forgive me.'

And with that he helped William to his feet and on to his horse.

He leaped on to his own and bareheaded so that all would know him, he led the wounded William out of the mêlée to safety.

William lay tossing on his bed. The wound in his arm was not serious. He heard with dismay that Rufus had been wounded also. Most disquieting of all, the day had gone to Robert by whose munificence his life had been saved.

Matilda nursed his wound and that of Rufus.

The wound to his body was not serious; it was that to his pride which was so hard to bear.

Matilda was exalted. Robert had saved his father's life. It was the answer to her prayer. All would be well now. All must be well.

She sat by his bed; she had scarcely left him since they had brought her to him.

Each day she said to him: ‘You must ask Robert to come and see you now.'

But he turned his face to the wall.

She would not give up. Every day she raised the subject. It made her so happy, she said, that Robert had been the one to save his life.

‘Ha,' he growled. ‘Doubtless you will make a tapestry depicting your gallant son, his lance poised to murder his father.'

‘It would be a good subject but I doubt you would like our little dwarf to design it for me. Nor would I wish to see you where you had been but once . . . at the mercy of another.'

He took her hand. ‘It pleases you,' he said. ‘Admit it. If one of us had to die you would liefer I were that one.'

‘Nay,' she cried. ‘If either of you had died that day my heart would be broken. Bruised it has been by this conflict between you. William, I grow old. See, my hair is almost white. You remember how golden it used to be. And you have grown so fat that there is scarce a horse will hold you. We grow old. Let us have peace in the family if we cannot have it elsewhere.'

‘You know what will happen. He will want Normandy.'

‘And you will refuse it.'

‘My mind is unchanged. I'll not strip now before I go to bed any more than I would then.'

‘He will not ask for Normandy this time, William.'

‘And why not? He was fighting for it a short time ago.'

‘He will come here and ask your forgiveness. He will understand that it is easier for him than for you.'

‘Easy for the victor of his petty battle.'

‘Much easier. He saved your life, therefore he can come in humility. You were at his mercy, therefore your pride is great. But I do not wish him to come in humility or you to remain in your pride. I want you both to be friends for your love of me, for I grow old, William, and there cannot be many years left to me.'

‘Don't talk so. Am I not older than you?'

‘You are a man. You see yourself among the immortals. Oh, you are fat and you must now ride horses that can carry your weight and they are not so swift as others you have known. You have your kingdom to govern, your dukedom to hold. But I must sit at home and wait and that is hard for a woman such as I am. I want you and Robert reconciled. I want peace in our home. Please, William, see Robert for my sake and when he asks for your friendship and that the past be forgotten, give it and forget. Please, William.'

She stooped and kissed him.

And she knew that she had won.

In the castle of Rouen William awaited the coming of Robert.

He had written to him telling him to come that he might receive a full pardon for his rebellion. If he did so, William added, he would be ready to grant him everything that he could expect from the affection of a father.

With memories of that emotional encounter on the battlefields, Robert lost no time in journeying to Rouen. He came attended by only three servants to show that he put his entire trust in his father.

Matilda embraced him warily and even William received him with a show of affection.

Rufus, who was present, hid his sullen feelings. He was not pleased by the reconciliation and Robert's dramatic act, although if his father had been killed he realized it could have gone ill with him. Robert might well have kept him prisoner and taken England as well as Normandy. So as things had turned out it was as well but he did not like to see friendship between Robert and his father.

Still, there was nothing he could do about it but feign pleasure.

There was feasting in the great hall and Matilda seated with her husband on one side of her at the great table and her son on the other, declared that this was one of the happiest days of her life.

Those days at the castle with the feasting and hunting
jaunts in the forest passed quickly and pleasantly. But the time must eventually come when William must return to that kingdom which demanded so much of his time to subdue and govern.

‘I wish you to come with me, Robert,' he said. ‘I have work for you to do. The King of Scotland is giving me trouble. I think you could help me there. You have proved yourself a good general.'

Robert, still living in the glow of that dramatic incident, declared his willingness to help his father defeat his enemies.

When Rufus and his father were alone together Rufus ventured: ‘It is well my brother is accompanying us. I feel safer with him under our eyes.'

And William replied: ‘I see we are of like mind.'

BACK IN ENGLAND
William put into progress a scheme which he had long had in mind. This was a survey which was to cover the whole of the country – not an acre of land was to be left out and there was to be a record of all cattle and such livestock. His idea was that because of the unrest in the country he needed money to maintain order and he would devise a means of taxation according to property owned.

He called this the Great Land Register but because the landowners saw this as another of the King's methods of taking their possessions from them it was called the Doomsday Book.

There was dissatisfaction with the Conqueror throughout the country but all but his greatest detractors were beginning to see that his harsh, but often just, rules had strengthened the land. Since his coming the country had become dotted with fine buildings; monasteries, churches and castles had grown up. He had brought in law and order, for so ruthless was the punishment accorded to offenders that few dared
offend. The Danes appeared to be wary of raiding the coasts for fear of meeting the Conqueror whose reputation was well known. He had studied the laws of the country and kept the best and substituted the rest by those of Normandy. He had encouraged marriage between Normans and Saxons, for he had said that the surest way to a peaceful country was to destroy racial differences. He set up industries and rewarded those who worked hard. He introduced the laws of chivalry. He was rich, but did not indulge in personal extravagance. He owned many manor houses and castles; all the forests of England were his property and he would allow no one to hunt in them without his permission. This was his great passion and he, with Rufus, sought the consolation the hunt could give on every possible occasion.