Joanna shook her head. Doting parents or not, it did not sit well with her. ‘Promise me you will make no bargains involving our sons or daughters.’ She gave him a hard look.
He drank, and said nothing.
‘Promise me,’ she repeated fiercely. ‘And that you will make no agreements, even casual ones, without my yeasay.’
He lowered his cup and sighed heavily. ‘Very well, I promise, for I know if I do not, you will fight me tooth and nail, and I would rather have you by my side than sticking a dagger in it – but you have to accept that it is how many do business.’
‘But I do not have to like it,’ she said, ‘and I do not have to follow their example.’
Simon de Montfort had returned from Gascony to attend Margaret’s wedding. William had managed to avoid him during the nuptial celebrations but was standing at Henry’s side the next day when Simon approached to speak to the King.
William’s stomach clenched, his fists too, although he remained expressionless. Before they had travelled north for the wedding, a deputation of Gascon lords had arrived at court to complain about de Montfort’s heavy-handed rule, and had laid out details of the injustices, beatings and torture the people had been suffering at the hands of his harsh regime. Henry had been shocked and horrified by the reports and had promised to deal with the situation and ascertain the truth.
The atmosphere sparked with tension, and William sensed Henry’s trepidation. His half-brother detested facing de Montfort, who made a point of putting him at a disadvantage.
De Montfort knelt, performing his obeisance, but making William think of a lion with a lashing tail.
‘Sire,’ de Montfort said, ‘I wish to make my report on Gascony. The people are in rebellion. They constantly burn my camps and stir up insurrection. I have had to expend far more than expected to control the situation. If there is to be a peaceful and smooth changeover when the lord Edward comes of age to inherit these lands, I must have more funds from you to control these people.’
Henry frowned. ‘So you say, but I have received reports from my loyal liegemen that they are suffering wrongfully from your enthusiasm to quell insurrection. I need to know you are targeting the rebels and not the general population.’
A look of angry astonishment crossed de Montfort’s face. ‘Sire, I root out your enemies where I find them. I know their many petty treacheries and they cannot be treated with lenience. The sword has the greatest value in the region. You do not understand the situation.’
Henry’s hands twitched on the arms of his chair. ‘I understand that if this continues, my son will have nothing but scorched earth and corpses to inherit. You must be discriminating in who you choose to censure and make proper accord with those who are not involved. I will not have you engaging in broad destruction. Many of these people are friends and allies. You will desist from your harsh policy forthwith and be more discerning.’
De Montfort fixed Henry with a contemptuous glare. ‘Sire, you have no knowledge of military matters, as so often has been proved. That is why you employed me to do this work.’
‘I did not employ you to destroy everything in your path,’ Henry snapped. ‘You will remain at court for the moment while I decide what is to be done.’
De Montfort’s lip curled and he abandoned all pretence of diplomacy. ‘You are a parody of what a king should be. You have no more idea of governance than that beetle running across the floor.’
Henry stared at him in furious astonishment. ‘You speak the words of a traitor. You are free to break our agreement any time you desire, and take the consequences. You will not insult me. We shall see who rules here. I think you will find it is me. You are dismissed!’
De Montfort flourished a sarcastic bow and strode from the room, his footfalls like hammer blows.
William watched his departure with an open mouth. He had been ready to draw his sword to protect Henry. De Montfort had surely burned his bridges now, and with this insult had given the King a reason to act.
‘You have done the right thing, sire,’ he said.
‘This is not the first time he has disrespected me,’ Henry said, trembling. ‘He may be my sister’s husband, but the ties of kinship can only go so far before they snap.’
‘You cannot let him return to Gascony and continue to wreak havoc there, or the lord Edward will have no territory to govern.’
‘I know that,’ Henry said tersely. ‘Do not you treat me as a fool as well.’
‘Sire, I would never do that.’
William brought Henry a cup of wine, pouring it himself rather than summoning a servant.
‘Perhaps you should send a group of trusted advisers to discover what has truly been happening in Gascony and ask the Archbishop of Bordeaux to oversee. Our brother Guy might have a notion too since he is close by in the Limousin.’
Henry drank, lowered the cup and sighed. ‘This must be investigated thoroughly. I wanted the Earl of Leicester to govern Gascony, not slaughter it.’
‘From the tales I heard growing up, his father was of that ilk,’ William said. ‘It is as though he has been born with sword steel in his spine and knows no other way but war. His father had no love for the Gascons. He died in Toulouse, trying to bring the barons of the south to heel. Perhaps for the Earl of Leicester this is unfinished business.’
Henry lifted his cup again. ‘There is merit in what you say, but am I like my father? Are you like yours?’ He shook his head pensively. ‘Your wife’s grandsire warned me on his deathbed that should I grow up to become like my sire, he wished me an early death before it came to that.’
William had no wisdom to answer, and a platitude would be wrong. It was a question for a chaplain. ‘Sire, it has clearly not come to that.’
