Richard had rarely heard the words “Holy Father” invested with such sarcasm, and he laughed again, ridiculously happy to see his cantankerous clerk, hoping that his sudden sentimentality was a symptom of confinement and would not survive once he’d regained his freedom.
Fulk had noticed the dropped letter and instinctively reached for it, accustomed to taking charge of his king’s correspondence. As he started to hand it to Richard, his gaze fell upon the salutation and he gave an exclamation of surprise. “You heard from the Doge of Venice?”
Richard saw no reason not to indulge his curiosity. “Go ahead, read it,” he said, and Fulk at once held the letter up toward the light.
“To his most serene lord, Richard, by the grace of God, King of England, Duke of Normandy and Aquitaine, and Count of Anjou, Enrico Dandolo, by the same grace, Doge of Venice, Dalmatia, and Cherum, health and sincere and duteous affection. Know ye that it has been intimated to me, from a source that can be relied upon, that Saladin, that enemy of the Christian religion, died in the first week of Lent. And one of his sons, whom he is said to have appointed heir to the whole of his dominions, is at present in Damascus, while the other one is ruling at Egypt and Alexandria. His brother is in the vicinity of Egypt with a numerous army, and the greatest dissension exists between them. Farewell.”
When Fulk glanced up, Richard saw that he’d immediately grasped the significance of this momentous news. “With Saladin dead, my liege, and his empire in disarray, Jerusalem is a plum ripe for plucking.”
“And if I’d not been compelled to make a truce with Saladin so I could return to defend my own kingdom, I’d still be in Outremer, Fulk. Without the French to hinder us, Henri and I could have taken Jerusalem back from the Saracens.” Richard was on his feet now, striding back and forth. “The French king and my brother have much to answer for. And so does that scorpion on the German throne. Had I been able to reach England, it would not have taken me long to put Johnny and Philippe on the run. I could then have made plans to return to the Holy Land, just as I’d promised Henri and the Almighty. Now . . . who knows how long it will be ere I am free to fulfill my vow?”
He whirled suddenly, demanding of his clerk, “Does any of this make sense to you, Fulk? Why has God let this happen? Saladin’s death offers a rare opportunity to regain the most sacred city in Christendom and yet I cannot take advantage of it!”
The easy answer would be to say it was not for them to question the ways of the Almighty. But Fulk was not one to offer easy answers, nor would Richard have accepted them. “I do not know what to tell you, my liege. I do not understand, either.”
“Eventually Saladin’s brother will prevail, for he is much more capable than his nephews. Now would have been the time to strike, yet here I am, thwarted not by the Saracens, but by another Christian ruler!” Richard spat out a few virulent oaths, none of which eased his frustration or his fury. Sitting down again, he slumped back wearily in the window-seat next to his clerk. “Saladin was a far better man than Philippe or Heinrich,” he said at last. “A man of courage and honor. It is a great pity that he must be forever denied the grace of God.”
Fulk sighed, thinking what Philippe or Heinrich would have made of such a statement. Sometimes it seemed to him that his king went out of his way to provide weapons for his enemies to use against him. Before he could respond, the door burst open and the Bishop of Bath hurried into the chamber.
“Sire, I have good news; wanted to be the one—” Savaric got no further, momentarily flustered by the unexpected sight of Fulk de Poitiers, for the two men had no liking for each other. “I did not expect to see you here, Master Fulk. My cousin the emperor must have forgotten to tell me you’d been released from custody.”
Richard thought it might be possible to invent a drinking game based upon how often Savaric used the words “my cousin the emperor” in any of his conversations. Fulk made no attempt to conceal his distaste. “Not all men would be so proud to claim the king’s gaoler as a kinsman, my lord bishop.”
Savaric bristled. “You need to catch up with recent developments, Master Fulk. Our king and the emperor are steadfast friends now and Emperor Heinrich has sent a letter to England’s justiciars in which he pledged lasting peace between our countries and vowed that from now on, he would look upon injuries done to King Richard as if they were done to him and the empire. Even your form of address is out of date, for I am soon to be Canterbury’s archbishop.”