He called for a horse and galloped out to meet him.
There they embraced.
‘Perrot! Perrot, my beloved. At last you are home.’
Gaveston looked eagerly into the King’s face. ‘Nothing has changed,’ he said. ‘Tell me nothing has changed.’
‘It is as it always was, dear friend,’ the King assured him.
* * *
The Queen was incensed. So they had brought back Gaveston! Edward was completely infatuated with him. So far, she was not pregnant. If she had been she could have been more reconciled. It was maddening that she, one of the most beautiful of queens, should be so neglected. One day she would have her revenge.
If she had not been a queen, she would have taken a lover. There were plenty who would be ready to risk a great deal for her. But no, even she dared not. There must be no doubts as to the royalty of her children. It was to be the old battle with Gaveston again.
She realized with a certain exultation that Gaveston was a fool. He had suffered banishment more than once and he should have been warned; but it seemed the man’s overweening vanity would be his downfall as it had on previous occasions. One would have thought that having felt the power of the barons he would have done his best to keep in their good graces. Heaven knew they had been given grudgingly enough. But no! Edward’s Perrot could not forget that he was the King’s favourite; he wanted to rule the country through the King and this was what he was attempting to do. As for poor besotted Edward he could deny his minion nothing. It was nauseating.
But she could watch with amusement because she knew that Gaveston’s downfall could not be far off. It was her duty to lure Edward to her bed when she could. She had impressed on him the need to get children and he did realize this.
God,
she thought,
if this were not the case, I would scorn you, Edward Plantagenet. Do you think I have no pride? I, a Princess of France, to be set aside for a low-born adventurer?
In her heart, though, she knew that one day she would be revenged.
Meanwhile she watched foolish Gaveston prance about the Court. She saw the offence he gave to high and low. He was becoming more and more insolent every day and would talk audibly of Monsieur
Boele Crevée
in the presence of the Earl of Lincoln, calling attention to the Earl’s enormous paunch and although humbler men might take up the soubriquet of Burst Belly, they did not admire Gaveston for using it.
Gaveston’s brother-in-law, the Earl of Gloucester been a good friend to him once, irritated him ; and he had the impudence to dub him a whore’s son, which was a slight on his mother— Joanna, the King’s aunt.
Gaveston believed that the great esteem which the King had for him entitled him to behave exactly as he felt inclined by the mood of the moment.
Let him,
thought Isabella.
He is sharpening the axe which will one day sever that insolent head from his shoulders.
* * *
Gaveston had been back but three months when Edward called a council to appear in York. It was disconcerting when a number of the barons, led by Lancaster, refused to appear and when the King demanded to know the reason why, he was told quite bluntly that it was because of Gaveston’s presence.
‘They are all jealous of me,’ said Gaveston blithely. ‘They envy me your lordship’s love.’
But he did not really think that was the reason. They envied him because he was richer, more handsome and so much more clever than they were.
‘A plague on their council,’ he added. ‘Come sit, my lord, and let us talk of other matters than this dreary community of slow-witted oafs.’
Edward said: ‘You must not talk so of my relations, wicked one.’
‘As I have told you many times, my lord, the perfections allotted to your family were all saved for you.’
So they laughed and snapped their fingers at the barons, but knew that they were moving towards a repetition of what had happened before.
‘Let us do a play for Christmas,’ suggested Gaveston. ‘What say you, my lord?’
‘You know how to divert me.’
‘Then we will go to Langley and have Christmas there together. Oh how the thought of that pleases me!’
‘It fills me with great joy to have you back with me,’ said Edward.
So they spent Christmas at Langley, in Hertfordshire, and they were very merry and for days they were happy together. Edward showered gifts on Gaveston and calculating their worth, Gaveston felt it was indeed a pleasant Christmas that they spent at Langley.
February came and it was time to attend the Parliament at Westminster.
Edward and Gaveston came south together lamenting that thee happy days of Christmas were over.
They knew there would be trouble. What had happened at York had been a pointer to that. This would be more serious. This was Westminster. If any of the barons refused to attend the Parliament and gave as their reason the presence of Gaveston, that would have to be taken seriously.
Edward was downcast, terrified that it would mean separation again.
Gaveston was more optimistic.
‘We will find a way, sweet lord,’ he said. ‘Leave it to me.’
‘You are clever Perrot, I know,’ replied Edward. ‘But how I hate these men!
I think most of all I hate Warwick. Your name for him is apt. He is like a mad dog, and I fear mad dogs. Their bite can mean death.’
‘We will draw the fangs of this one, Edward, before he has time to infect us with his venom.’
But it was as Edward feared. Warwick, Oxford, Arundel and Hereford, led by Lancaster, refused to attend. Their reason for their absence was as before.
Because of the presence of Piers Gaveston.
Edward was in a quandary. There must be a session of Parliament, for he needed money and only Parliament could grant it. Also there was animosity in the air and he knew towards whom it was directed.
He was afraid for Perrot.
They discussed the matter together and even Gaveston dropped his easy optimism. They were out to destroy him, and he knew it.
‘You must get away from here,’ said the King. ‘It breaks my heart but you must go. I cannot be at peace while you are here for I fear for you. Leave at once for the North. I will join you as soon as I can. Then I will call the Parliament and they will assembled because you are no longer with me.’
It was drastic. It was infuriating. But they both saw that a separation by themselves was better than one which would be forced on him.
So they parted, and Gaveston rode North.
* * *
It was unfortunate that about this time the Earl of Lincoln died. It was true that he had become alienated from the King because of Gaveston and had deeply resented the insolent of Burst Belly being applied to him; but although he was somewhat ponderous he had been a steady influence and had won the respect of Edward the First. It was because the second Edward was so unlike his father that Lincoln had swerved his allegiance but what he had done was had been that which he thought right for the country.
The reason why his death was such a blow to the King was that Thomas Earl of Lancaster, who had married Lincoln’s daughter, on Lincoln’s death inherited the earldoms of Lincoln and Salisbury through his wife. As Lancaster already had, besides his royal birth, the earldoms of Leicester and Derby, he was without doubt one of the richest and most influential men in the country.
Being seven years older than the King and considerably more mature, he had overnight become an even greater power in the land than he had been before. He had shown himself to be one of the fiercest enemies of Piers Gaveston, and with Lincoln dead, discontented barons looked to him to lead the faction which was going to demand the final banishment of Gaveston.
The King was very worried.
Edward lost no time in joining Gaveston under the pretext of making war on Scotland and he was at Berwick when news came to him of Lincoln s death and Lancaster’s accession to the earldoms.
It was very pleasant to be far away from the conflict, and Gaveston said:
‘You know, lord, we should be grateful to your enemies the Scots.’
Then they laughed together and talked in that intimate fashion which was such a delight to the King and they wondered how long they would be left in peace to enjoy each other’s company.
Their pleasure was interrupted by an announcement that Lancaster was on his way north to pay homage to the King for the earldoms of Lincoln and Salisbury which he had just acquired. That, he said, must be his first duty.
‘A plague on him,’ cried Edward. ‘I never trusted that man.’
‘He’ll be insupportable now,’ agreed Gaveston, and added enviously, ‘He will be the richest man in the kingdom― no exception.’
‘My Perrot must run him pretty close,’ said the King fondly.
‘But five earldoms! He will think himself more important than the King.’
‘He did that with three.’
‘We must find a way of cutting that arrogant fellow down a little, my lord.’
Edward agreed, but it was Lancaster who was to cut Gaveston down.
One of Lancaster’s men arrived at Berwick with a message from his master.
The King heard what the man had to say and his brow darkened with anger.
Gaveston was with him and his indignation was as great as the King’s because Lancaster’s message was that he refused to come to Berwick. He owed allegiance to the King for his lands in England and as Berwick was over the border into Scotland it would not be proper for him to come to the King. The King must come to him.
‘I never heard such insolence!’ cried Gaveston.
Edward was uneasy. ‘Some would say he was right. Berwick
is
across the border and we are just inside Scotland.’
‘So you will give way to this man.’
The messenger said: ‘My lord has said that if you will not accept his allegiance he must return south without it.’
Edward realized what that meant. At any time, Lancaster could raise an army against him— and he was capable and rich enough to do that— and not put himself wrong with the law, because he had sworn no allegiance.
‘There is nothing to be done but cross the border and meet him,’ said Edward. ‘He
must
take his oath of allegiance.’
Gaveston had to agree and the King sent the messenger back to say that he would see Lancaster at Haggerston, a small place close to Berwick and just within the English border.
There they met— a very arrogant enriched Lancaster, and a somewhat humiliated Edward with Gaveston who felt mischievous and at the same time excessively envious of this man whose birth and marriage had brought him five earldoms and all that went with them.
The King received the Earl’s homage with Gaveston beside him. Lancaster’s behaviour was very correct as far as the King was concerned but the contemptuous manner in which he ignored Gaveston was obvious. Edward felt furious but could do nothing about it in public although he raved against Lancaster in private.
As for Gaveston, he was furious and with his fury was mingled led a deep apprehension. He had realized that the powerful Lancaster was the bitterest of his enemies and with these two men— and many others― against him, his position was very precarious indeed.
Lancaster left and Edward with Gaveston returned to Berwick, but they both knew they could not remain together much longer. The King must go to London for another session of Parliament.
Fearfully, they left Berwick together but the parting was near.
‘Let it be Bamborough Castle,’ said Edward. ‘It is a strong fortress and I shall feel that you are far enough from Westminster there to be safe until we can be together.
So to Bamborough they rode, and in the formidable castle there, set high upon a perpendicular rock looking out to sea, they took a painful leave of each other.
The King rode south, determined to defy his barons while Gaveston within in the stone walls of Bamborough assessed his case. He had held the King’s favor for a long time, far longer than he had dared hope. He was a rich man. He had been wise in getting a great deal of his wealth out of England because he had always been aware that one day he could lose everything that remained there. His estates and possessions in Gascony were vast. At any time he could slip away to them. But he loved possessions so much he could never resist the desire to gain more.
He was fond of the King. He was greatly flattered to be so beloved by him.
Edward had been faithful since the days of their childhood, and Gaveston was wise enough to know that his fame and fortune rested entirely on the King’s favor. But the day would come when he must leave that rich field even though there was still much to be gleaned. He would have to choose that moment and not allow his avarice to overcome his common sense.
There in Bamborough, this castle which had stood on its cliff of rock since the days when the Romans had built it, he could look out on a stormy sea and contemplate his fate as so many others had before him. Bamborough, named after Queen Bebba the wife of King Ida of the Angles who had turned the Roman fortress into a castle, could provide only a temporary refuge. He paced the wall and thought of Edward and wondered what the outcome of this visit to Westminster would be.