A King's Ransom

Richard’s brother-in-law known as Der L?we—the lion—had once been the most powerful of all the German lords, Duke of Saxony and Bavaria, a force to be reckoned with. But his feuding with the Hohenstaufens had proved catastrophic for his House. He’d been disgraced, exiled, and stripped of his titles and duchies. Richard could understand his bitterness. It did not make sense to him, though, for Heinrich der L?we to hold out if all of his allies made peace with their hated enemy.

 

Henrik apparently didn’t think so, either, for he said with a sigh, “I tried to convince him that he should at least hear what the emperor is offering. He was not willing to listen—to Heinrich or to me.” His smile was rueful. “He has yet another grievance against the emperor now. I’ve been plight-trothed since childhood to Heinrich’s first cousin. Agnes is the only child of Heinrich’s uncle Konrad, the Count Palatine of the Rhine, so it was a brilliant match, and when he lost his duchies, my father took consolation from that, often saying that at least he did not have to worry about my future. Well, the marriage was forbidden by Heinrich, who wants to wed Agnes to Duke Ludwig of Bavaria. I admit I was very disappointed. Not only is Agnes a great heiress, she has a smile like a sunrise and we’ve always gotten along very well. But my father took it harder than I did. He hates the Hohenstaufens even more than you do, Uncle.”

 

“No one hates them more than I do,” Richard protested, with such mock outrage that Henrik laughed. “Does your father know you’ve come to the peace conference?”

 

Henrik nodded. “He knows that I am here only to see you. I’ll not be able to join the others if you are able to cobble together a peace. I have to stand with him, even if it is not what I’d rather do.” Relieved when Richard indicated he understood, Henrik straddled a chair, impatiently pushing aside the fair hair slanting across a sky-blue eye. “Uncle Richard . . . I have something to tell you, and you’ll not like it. I had a letter from my sister, confessing that her husband took part in the French king’s invasion of Normandy.” Seeing Richard’s mouth tighten, he said quickly, “Richenza says Jaufre felt he had no choice since Philippe is his king, but she is greatly distressed about it. When I write to her, what should I tell her?”

 

“Say I do not blame her,” Richard said, with enough emphasis on the pronoun to tell Henrik that Jaufre was not so lucky. Richard was not truly surprised by Jaufre’s defection, but it still stung, all the more because he was sure there would be others.

 

Henrik confirmed that now by giving him the names of several other barons who’d joined the French campaign, including two who’d fought beside him in the Holy Land. “And that is not the worst of it, Uncle. Richenza says that you lost Gisors Castle. The castellan betrayed your trust and surrendered it to the French king.”

 

Richard had been expecting some defections, but not this. He slumped back in his chair, not sure whom he loathed more at that moment, the disloyal lickspittle who’d yielded up Gisors, the French king, who was as shameless as he was craven, or that hellspawn Heinrich.

 

Henrik hated being the bearer of ill tidings and so he’d deliberately held back Richenza’s welcome news till the last, hoping the good would ease the rancid taste of the bad. “But the French king suffered a severe setback when he besieged Rouen, Uncle. The Earl of Leicester not only stopped him from seizing the city, he made a fool of Philippe in the bargain by opening the gates and challenging him to enter—if he dared. He did not and slunk away with his tail between his legs!”

 

Henrik’s strategy worked; Richard roared with laughter. “What I’d not have given to see that!” He shared then with his nephew some stories of the Earl of Leicester’s heroics in the Holy Land, and he was in much better spirits when the summons came to meet the German lords in the great hall. Rising, he beckoned to his guards as if he still had the right of command, silently vowing to show Philippe that, even as a prisoner, he was capable of thwarting the French king’s treachery.

 

 

 

ALL OF THE GERMAN rebels except Richard’s brother-in-law were present, but the leaders were clearly the Dukes of Brabant, Limburg, and Bohemia, and the Archbishops of Cologne and Mainz. Richard was predisposed to mistrust Heinrich of Limburg, for he’d not followed through on his vow to fight in the Holy Land, but he felt an immediate rapport with Limburg’s nephew Heinrich of Brabant, and he was very pleased to see the Archbishop of Cologne’s nephew Adolf von Altena; he’d been impressed by the cathedral prior’s forthrightness and courage during his trial at Speyer. As he exchanged courtesies with Duke Ottokar of Bohemia, the irony of meeting under these circumstances was not lost upon him, for he’d initially hoped to find safety in Moravia, the duchy of Ottokar’s brother. That was only five months ago, but it seemed as if it were part of the distant past, so much had happened since then.

 

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