‘Come out if you dare and face us!’ roared Henry de Montfort, pounding on the barricaded door, his face scarlet with self-righteous rage. ‘Come and face us for the crimes you have committed and the inheritances you have stolen! Cowards and thieves! Come out now!’
Geoffrey muttered under his breath and gripped his sword.
Several letters had already been sent and the scribes were furiously writing more, one ear cocked on the noise outside. Climbing to the top of the lodging, Aymer opened the window to bellow down at them to go home and cease disturbing the peace of the King of France. His reward was jeers and a barrage of stones from slingshots.
‘The de Montfort boys don’t have sufficient men to make a serious assault,’ Geoffrey said. ‘But we might be in difficulties if they manage to rally others to their banner or bribe the porter.’
‘I doubt anyone else will be foolish enough to join them,’ William replied, ‘but to be safe let us make it worth the while of the servants to remain loyal. We might not have money to spare beyond the essentials, but I would call that essential.’ He silently vowed that de Montfort and his sons would pay. He would never permit a son of his to behave with such dishonour, disrespect and lack of discipline. The same for Joanna’s brother. Young Guillaume de Munchensy had to be taught a lesson.
Joanna too was busy with her clerk writing letters and evaluating her resources. She had sold three silk gowns and her second-best cloak, but was being careful. The line was narrow between being frugal and looking shabby. She had dismissed some of her attendants and retained a loyal core. Anything she spent beyond necessities detracted from the resources she intended taking to William when she joined him. The King’s administration, over-seen by the hostile barons, made acquiring new income difficult, and running a household without making inroads into the funds she had brought to London challenged her resourcefulness. She dined among the King’s retainers at court whenever she could, and tried not to let it look too much like receiving charity. Rather than becoming demoralised, she channelled her frustration and fear into seeking ways around her conundrum.
Her chaplain, Nicolas, quietly entered her chamber and stooped to murmur in her ear. ‘Madam, the King requires you to attend him in his private chapel for prayer.’
Nicolas often spent time with Henry’s chaplains and he kept his ears open around the court. Joanna immediately understood the message as a summons to a meeting for purposes beyond prayer, even though the latter would be involved.
‘I shall come at once,’ she said, and left the clerk to continue with the accounts.
Henry was waiting for her in his chapel, adjoining his great painted chamber. Joanna quietly approached the altar where he was kneeling with his eyes closed, and folding herself beside him, bent her head. The smell of incense filled each breath she drew and the candles twinkled in their gilded holders. It was like being enclosed inside a darkly glowing jewel.
For a while they prayed in silence. Joanna begged God, the Virgin and every saint she knew to keep William safe, counting their names on each prayer bead, imploring their help and their mercy.
Eventually, Henry breathed a soft ‘Amen’ and raised his head. He looked at Joanna with mournful eyes and took her hands. ‘Oh, my dear girl. I am so sorry about what has come upon you and William. If I could change all of this, I would.’
Joanna swallowed emotion. ‘Sire, I am very sorry too. I am deeply worried about what will happen to William, and to me and the children. My husband has been forced into exile. Hostile strangers occupy my manors and castles and who knows where the revenues are going – certainly not into my coffers.’ She raised her eyes to his beseechingly. ‘How am I to live and feed my household and my children when I have nothing?’
‘But money is being kept for you at the Temple Church,’ Henry said, looking distressed. ‘You have an allowance.’
‘Money may indeed be stored for my use at the Temple, sire, but I have received none of it. Before long you will be feeding me and my children at the paupers’ table in your hall.’
‘Never!’ Henry’s eyes widened in horror. ‘I would never allow that. Something will be done, I promise.’
‘Thank you,’ Joanna said, without confidence. ‘It was also agreed by all that William would go into exile for the time being. Now I hear that the sons of Simon de Montfort have pursued him and his brothers – your brothers – to Boulogne to harass them.’
‘I know of this, for I received a letter from William,’ he said, ‘and I have written to King Louis asking him to intervene.’ His face twisted with anxiety. ‘I have also spoken to my sister and the Earl of Leicester, and the young men concerned have been recalled. A messenger left before dusk with the order. That is partly why I summoned you tonight – to tell you.’ He lowered his voice. ‘We will prevail and in time William will return, I promise.’
Joanna’s relief at Henry’s intervention was tempered by the knowledge that until the messenger delivered the letters, William was not safe. She was dubious too about what Henry’s notion of prevailing actually meant when facing a charismatic and dominant opponent like Simon de Montfort.
‘Thank you, sire.’ Despite her misgivings, she was grateful, for at least something had been set in motion. ‘I hope to join my husband once he is in the Limousin. I may be under your protection at court, but it is still a difficult situation for me.’
Henry gently kissed her forehead. ‘I know, my dear, and I will do my utmost to obtain you a safe conduct to join my brother. I had no choice but to send him away – it was never my wish to do so.’
Joanna nodded, chewing the inside of her lip.
‘This might help both of you.’ Taking her hand, he turned it palm upwards, and placed a key in it. ‘This is for the coffer I keep in the chapel on the altar shelf. I am entrusting it to you, and giving you permission to take from it what you need. The items are personal to me and it is my business and no one else’s how I allocate them. You may take and dispose of a few items to help keep you and the children, and to assist William. I am counting on your utter discretion. My chaplain knows you have the key, and I trust him to stay silent, but tell no one – certainly not the Queen, for she would not understand. Take what you wish, my dear, and use it wisely.’
Joanna felt the cool, solid brass in her hand as Henry took her behind the altar and showed her the long, decorated chest, securely padlocked.
‘Everyone shall be told that I have given you special permission to use my chapel for peace and prayer whenever you choose.’
‘Thank you, sire,’ Joanna said, her voice tight with emotion. ‘I have no words for what is in my heart.’
‘Neither do I,’ Henry replied, wiping his eyes. ‘I am helping you in the only way I can at the moment and I expect you to take full advantage.’
He took the key from her, unlocked the chest and pushed back the lid. Joanna gazed upon the gleam of gold and silver-gilt, of colourful Limousin enamels and the sparkle of gems. The peacock dishes that the King of France had given him as a parting gift. He removed a small leather pouch containing four heavy gold rings set with precious stones. ‘Tie this to your belt,’ he said, before delving again, like a child riffling through a toy box. Although he had given Joanna permission, the consent was as much for himself. She noticed how his hand lingered upon certain items before moving on, and she resolved to leave those items alone for they were clearly precious.
‘Whatever I use, I will replace,’ she said. ‘I know what this means to you.’
He glanced at her and smiled. ‘Does it not say above the door in the great chamber that he who has and does not give will not receive? And indeed, I willingly give.’ He closed the chest and straightened up. ‘We shall weather this. We just have to endure the mud at the bottom of the pond for a while.’
