“I’d have been here sooner, but the emperor wanted to show me his castle at Trifels first.”
While Richard got no response from Heinrich, he’d not expected one. He did catch interesting reactions from the others. An expression of surprise crossed Konrad’s face. The corners of Constance’s mouth curved ever so slightly. And Savaric Fitz Geldwin hastily averted his gaze. So Konrad had not known about his sojourn in Trifels. But the bishop did. Why would Heinrich have confided in this sly, pompous schemer?
Heinrich had leaned forward in his seat, his eyes intent upon Richard’s face. “Now that we are to be allies, I have been thinking how best to demonstrate my goodwill. And then it occurred to me. I am in a position to do you a very good turn, my lord king.”
Richard felt the brush of his chancellor’s mantle as he edged closer. “And what is that, my lord emperor?”
“It has been called to my attention that your archbishopric of Canterbury has been vacant for more than two years. As it happens, I have the perfect candidate at hand—my cousin, the Bishop of Bath.”
Richard’s first reaction was not anger; it was disbelief. He stared at the other man, incredulous that even Heinrich would dare to meddle so blatantly in English affairs. “How kind of you to take such an interest in the English Church. I will give the Bishop of Bath’s candidacy all the consideration it deserves.”
“I knew you would appreciate my interest. But surely there is no need for consideration. My cousin is well qualified, after all. I will be pleased to provide you with my own scribe so that you may write to your justiciars in England, informing them of your wishes in this matter.”
Longchamp surreptitiously touched his king’s arm, hoping to convey a wordless warning. But one was already echoing in Richard’s ears. Do whatever it takes to keep Heinrich from selling you to the French. “If it pleases my new ally, then it pleases me,” he said tonelessly.
Heinrich nodded, with another of those hinted smiles. “It is good that we understand each other, my lord king. That bodes well for our future endeavors.”
“Sire, how can I ever thank you?” Dropping dramatically to his knees before Richard, Savaric Fitz Geldwin gazed up euphorically at the king. “Such a great honor! I promise you that you will have no regrets. I will be loyal to you until my last mortal breath.”
Richard looked down at Savaric’s flushed, thrilled face, his own face expressionless. “You need not fear, my lord bishop. I know exactly what your loyalty is worth.”
THE FOLLOWING TWO HOURS were very unpleasant ones for Richard. Many of those in attendance upon the emperor were eager to meet him or to renew acquaintances struck in Speyer, and he found himself having to smile and make small talk and act as if nothing were amiss. His new friends were primarily churchmen and he assumed they were grateful that they would not have to choose between allegiance to their emperor and their Pope now that he and Heinrich were supposedly reconciled. He did the best he could, but when he developed a pounding headache, he told Longchamp that he needed to end this farce straightaway.
Longchamp marveled that Richard had held out as long as this. “I will inform Heinrich that you are ready to depart,” he promised, and limped off toward the dais. Despite his tactful phrasing, Richard knew what he was really saying—that they could go nowhere without Heinrich’s permission—and that was just one more bitter drop in an already rancid drink. But as he waited for Longchamp to return, he noticed the empress standing a few feet away, conversing with the Bishop of Worms. As soon as the bishop moved off, Richard ended his own conversation with several archdeacons and crossed to Constance.
“Madame, may I have a word with you?”
“Of course, my lord king.” Correctly interpreting the glance he gave her women, Constance added, “My ladies speak no French, so I rarely get a chance to make use of my native tongue.”
Richard appreciated the subtlety of her assurance that they could speak freely. “My chancellor told me that you interceded on my behalf, getting him an audience with the emperor. If not for your kindness, I might still be enjoying the dubious comforts of Trifels. I wanted to tell you that you have a king in your debt—and I always pay my debts.”
To anyone watching, Constance’s smile was polite, impersonal, and as devoid of warmth as her husband’s own smiles. But Richard thought he caught a spark in those extraordinary sapphire eyes. “You owe me no debt,” she said softly, “for what I did, I did not do for the English king. I did it for Joanna’s brother.”