When it came William’s turn to stand before Henry, he paused and stared around at the gathered nobles. Some men met his gaze, but many looked away. ‘I refuse to put my name to a document that is treason to the King and takes away all that he has given me in clear and fair honesty,’ he declared in ringing tones. ‘I will never concede to these pernicious terms and yield the castles, wardships and lands that are mine and my family’s.’
‘My lord, you are bound to do so, or be called a traitor and pay the traitor’s price,’ de Montfort said, indicating the document, a curl of satisfaction to his lips.
‘I am not the traitor here,’ William replied with scorn, ‘but I can see plenty of others in this chamber who would see their king in fetters.’
De Montfort lowered his brows. ‘You have a clear choice before you. Either yield your castles or lose your head. We are ready to accommodate you either way.’
A brief, taut pause hung between them like an arrow on the bowstring before the loose, and then the moment exploded, and the air filled with the sound of shouting, men roaring for William’s head and shaking their fists. Henry shrank back, white-faced, horrified – powerless. William turned on his heel and stalked from the chamber, his heart hammering, for at any moment he expected the verbal attack to become physical. His fine mail shirt might protect him from a single stab wound but not a multitude. His brothers hastened out with him, and John de Warenne, who shoved several people aside and shouldered his way through.
Arriving in his chamber, William stared down at his hands which had started trembling like Henry’s. He was sick with frustration, fury and fear, because Simon de Montfort had meant every word and he would carry it through given the chance.
‘We cannot stay here,’ Aymer said, breathing swiftly. ‘It is too dangerous and it is their territory. It will be impossible to negotiate anything but our downfall.’
‘Then what do you suggest we do? I have no strongholds close, only manor houses, and if we go to one we will only incite them.’
‘My Bishop’s palace at Wolvesey is only half a day’s ride and they will think twice about attacking an ecclesiastical building. We can be there tonight. If we stay here, we will either have to swear to give up everything, or be killed.’
‘I will accompany you,’ John said. ‘They will not dare to attack me and I certainly have no intention of agreeing to their outrageous demands.’
‘I will come too,’ Edward announced from the doorway. ‘They shall not dictate to me; I am not their lackey.’ He entered the chamber, his expression fiercely determined but holding, too, a glint of relish. ‘My father has no choice for he has been backed into a corner and he does not have the force to stand up to them, but they shall not say that the monarchy is toothless and nor shall I throw my uncles to the wolves.’
‘I am grateful, sire,’ William replied, ‘but this will not end well whatever happens. What if they besiege us at Wolvesey? Where will we go from there?’
Edward gave him a calculating look. ‘You will have to leave England for a while – the opposition is too strong. But you cannot negotiate here for you will die. Leave now with your heads intact and regroup at Wolvesey. With me, de Warenne and my cousin of Almain as escort, you will be able to negotiate a safe outcome.’
‘An outcome that involves my castles and lands being taken from me,’ William said, starkly.
‘Bide your time,’ Edward replied. ‘When the wind is set against you, wait for it to change, and in the meantime, use the time to prepare.’
Looking into his nephew’s eyes, William did not see a nineteen-year-old youth staring back, but a king. Ruthless and hardened to practicality. The unspoken energy in the reply convinced him, and he gave a wordless nod.
‘Muster what baggage you can without calling attention to yourself. The summons to dinner will come soon. Put it abroad that you are coming to the table and are considering your answer. I shall order the horses saddled; there is no time for baggage carts. We will need to ride fast, but if you have sprightly sumpter horses, bring them. You can send messages and everything else you need once we are away from here.’
William nodded curtly. ‘The grey sumpter and the chestnut palfrey. Both have good legs. I’ll ride my destrier and bring my spare.’
‘I will see you down there,’ Edward said, and took his leave.
William covered his face with his hands. What would happen to Joanna and the children without him here to protect them? He stood between the fire and the cliff edge. The imperative was to leave Oxford and escape the clutches of the hostile barons.
He changed into his finest robes – a red silk undergown and magnificent blue and white tunic. He could sell the jewels and gold thread from the garments later if he had to. He ordered his knights to go to the stables a few at a time and sent his new manservant James to the hall to place his cup on the table and announce that his lord would shortly be coming to dinner. Then he turned to Iohan, who had recently entered John de Warenne’s household as a page, and who had been watching the proceedings with wide eyes. They needed to ride hard, and if they were pursued, who knew what might happen. Better to send the boy to Joanna, and pray that Henry still had enough influence to protect them.
‘Iohan, you must go to your mother with Elias.’ He turned to his grim-faced serjeant. ‘See my son safely to my lady at Bampton and report to her what has happened. I will write later. I need you to do this and do it well.’
‘You can rely on me, sire,’ Elias said stoutly. ‘I swear on my life to keep them safe.’
William put his hand on Iohan’s narrow shoulder. ‘You are my heir. You are the man of the house. Look after your mother and sisters and brother but do as your mother tells you. I am proud of you and I am trusting you until I return.’
‘Yes, sire.’ Iohan puffed out his chest, acting bravely but with a glisten of fear in his eyes. ‘When …’ He swallowed. ‘When will that be?’
William gave him a man-to-man look, although his heart lurched. ‘I do not know, but it will all be sorted very soon. I just have to leave for a while.’
‘I hate Simon de Montfort,’ Iohan said, clenching his fists.
‘You are not alone,’ William answered wryly. ‘But be very careful what you say and do because others are always listening and your life and the life of your family might depend on your discretion. Think before you speak. Knowing your heart is not always the same as speaking your heart. Quickly now, go with Elias and fetch your things.’ He embraced Iohan, kissing the soft cheek of the child he was exhorting to be a man, and watched him leave the room with Elias. Then he turned, his body stiff with suppressed emotion, and nodded briskly at the men remaining in the room.
In the stable yard, William’s warhorses Talent and Rous had been made ready, with his palfrey and a sumpter horse put on lead reins. Most people were at dinner in the hall, but there were still servants around to bear the message that the Lusignan party was leaving. William mounted Talent and reined him around towards the priory gates. Edward, astride his grey, was smiling. William had seen the king in him earlier, but the youth with a love of wild adventure was still vying for position.
‘I warrant we’ll outrun them,’ Edward said. ‘I had my grooms hide all their tack and cut the reins and girths. It is going to be a while before they can set out in pursuit.’
