In Paris, Henry greeted William with a warm embrace and joy in his eyes, but after they had hugged and kissed, by mutual agreement, they stood apart, alert to Simon de Montfort’s hard scrutiny.
‘You look well, my brother,’ Henry said.
‘Yes, sire,’ William replied, thinking he could not say the same for Henry who was haggard, his drooping eyelid sagging more than usual, and a tremor in his hands. ‘I have not been idle on my homelands and there has been a fine harvest. I had forgotten how excellent the chestnuts are when fresh from the region, and the ears of grain have been full too. I have enjoyed renewing bonds with my neighbours – although I miss England.’
‘Yes indeed,’ Henry said, flushing. ‘How are your beautiful wife and children?’
‘Joanna is incomparable. I bless the day you vouched her to me. Perhaps you can arrange to meet her during your visit. I know she would value it greatly.’
‘Yes, I would like to see her.’ He raised a knowing eyebrow. ‘As you say, incomparable. I hope there will soon be peace, for I deeply miss you and your brothers.’ He moved on.
De Montfort gave William a cutting look and stalked past, making it clear that William would have to approach him, and thus seem like a supplicant. William had no intention of being caught in that particular trap, and stayed at the gathering just long enough to speak to people in a modest and mature way, without rancour. As dusk fell over the city, he prepared to return to Joanna and the children at their lodging.
He was fastening his cloak when de Montfort’s senior squire approached him. ‘My lord asks you to meet him at the Temple,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘He is keen to settle any differences and misunderstandings that lie between you and him.’
William looked at the young man askance. ‘And why could he not do so here and ask me himself ?’ he demanded. ‘He has had plenty of opportunity at this gathering.’
‘It is not the court; it is neutral territory,’ the squire replied.
Settling their differences could mean anything, perhaps even an assassination attempt. He would put nothing beyond Simon de Montfort. ‘And if I choose to decline his offer?’
‘That is your choice, sire, but I am sure it will be in your interest.’
‘Then you are more certain than I am,’ William said.
Something was afoot, and he knew it would not be of any benefit to him unless it also benefited de Montfort.
William entered the great tower of the Parisian Templars and looked around, feeling wary. Elias had accompanied him, armed with a sword and a stout cudgel, and he had his knight Geoffrey Gascelin too. He was wearing his fine mail shirt under his tunic and had a slim dagger up his sleeve and another in his boot. The Templar compound might be neutral ground, but he was taking no chances.
De Montfort’s squire led him to a room that bore the function of a waiting chamber for guests who had business at the Temple. Simon de Montfort was already present, sitting in a curve-backed chair, leaning back with his legs crossed, his top leg swinging in a pose that was dominant, casual and nonchalant.
‘My dear brother-by-marriage, I am glad you chose to come,’ he said. ‘I do not think we need the presence of these men.’
William gestured, and Elias and Geoffrey withdrew with de Montfort’s squire.
‘Please, sit.’ De Montfort indicated a second chair, smaller than his own.
‘I would rather stand,’ William replied stiffly and, planting his legs wide, folded his arms. ‘What is it you wish to say to me, my lord?’ He glanced around the shadows, half expecting figures to dart out and assault him.
‘Do not worry,’ de Montfort said witheringly. ‘Had I wanted to do away with you, it would not be here. I have asked you to come for a purpose other than assassination. Will you have a cup of wine?’ He left his chair and went to a table where a flagon and cups had been set out.
‘I am not thirsty – I had sufficient with the King at his gathering,’ William replied. He had no intention of drinking in this man’s company. Certainly, murder was in his own thoughts. One quick thrust in the right place from his concealed dagger. It would not be that difficult and might even be worth it.
De Montfort poured wine for himself and drank it down in several swallows. ‘As you please.’
‘What are you going to say to me here that could not be said at my brother’s court?’ William asked, to the point. ‘Let us stop this nonsense and come to business.’
De Montfort lowered his cup. ‘As I instructed my squire to say to you, the Temple is neutral ground and no one to overhear and carry tales. I have asked you here for one reason only and that is to make peace for England. You know what I am talking about.’
William regarded him blankly. ‘No,’ he said. He was not sure he did know, and had no intention of giving Simon de Montfort help with what he had to say.
‘It is like this,’ de Montfort said impatiently. ‘The barons must unite in protecting the King from others and himself, and you must play your part. I am willing to give you the opportunity to return if we can settle our differences.’
William inclined his head to show he was listening, but remained cynical. It was not about ‘protecting’ the King; it was about incarcerating him and removing his power.
‘If you will honour me with the same respect that you grant the King as his confidant in his affairs, then I will welcome you back to England and not stand in your way, if you will not stand in mine.’
William said flatly, ‘I honour you only insofar as I honour the King and his choice of minister, and no further than that.’
