A King's Ransom

If he’d had any doubts that he was balancing on the thinnest of wires, like the rope dancers so popular at local fairs, they were dispelled in mid-August by Heinrich’s unexpected arrival at Worms. While their meeting was outwardly amiable, it swirled with undercurrents deep enough to drown in. Heinrich began by giving Richard unwelcome news: after being stricken with a serious illness, Archbishop Bruno of Cologne had resigned his archbishopric, choosing to spend his remaining days as a simple monk at the monastery in Altenberg. Richard did his best to hide his dismay, for the elderly archbishop had been one of his strongest supporters. Now he could only hope that the monks would elect a prelate who’d also be sympathetic to his plight.

 

Heinrich was not one for making idle conversation and he soon revealed the purpose of his visit. The Bishop of Bath had been grievously disappointed to learn that the Christchurch monks had disregarded Richard’s wishes and elected Hubert Walter as the new Archbishop of Canterbury, he reported, adding that he’d been surprised, too, by their defiance. Richard expressed his own surprise and offered his sympathies for the bishop’s thwarted hopes, all the while bracing for whatever was coming next.

 

“I was sure that you’d share our disappointment,” Heinrich said smoothly. “So I daresay you’ll be pleased to hear that there is a way to compensate my cousin for his loss. He tells me he wants to annex the abbey at Glastonbury to his See of Bath.”

 

“Does he, now?” It took all of Richard’s self-control to remain impassive, for Glastonbury was one of the most important English abbeys, and since the recent discovery in the monastery cemetery of the graves of King Arthur and his queen, Guinevere, it had become an even more popular pilgrimage site. He could well understand why Savaric wanted to get his greedy hands on such a prize. “I doubt that the monks would take kindly to that, my lord emperor.”

 

Heinrich dismissed the monks’ objections with a negligent wave of his hand. “Savaric will deal with their complaints. What he proposes is that he grant you the city of Bath in exchange for the abbey, with the two churches united as one. I told him that I felt confident we could count upon your cooperation, my lord king. So . . . can we?”

 

Richard wondered if Savaric was truly so stupid that he did not realize there’d be a day of reckoning for this bit of banditry. He did not doubt that Heinrich knew it, but his concern was not with his foolish cousin’s future. He cared only about reminding his prisoner that he was one, whatever amenities and civilities he now enjoyed. Richard returned the emperor’s smile, although under the table, his hands had clenched into involuntary fists. “Of course,” he said, with a nonchalance that cost him dearly. “We are allies, after all.”

 

 

 

UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES, Richard was not looking forward to his thirty-sixth birthday on September 8; why would a prisoner celebrate one more day of captivity? To his surprise, it turned out to be an enjoyable occasion. The Bishop of Worms insisted upon hosting a festive birthday dinner for his royal guest and afterward, he engaged several of the German minnesingers to perform for them. Music always raised Richard’s spirits, and he was in a mellow mood even before the arrival of a messenger from one of his new allies, the Duke of Brabant.

 

The duke’s news could not have been better. The newly elected Archbishop of Cologne was the provost Adolf von Altena, who’d been very friendly with Richard since their first meeting during his trial at Speyer. He could not have asked for a more effective champion than Adolf, and Richard felt as if he’d been given an unexpected birthday gift.

 

After the meal and the entertainment, they went out into the palace gardens. Some of the men began to play a boisterous game of quoits, throwing horseshoes at a wooden hob. Richard was sitting on a turf bench, watching the game and bantering with Morgan and Warin Fitz Gerald when he was given a letter from the German emperor. At the sight of the imperial seal, it was as if the sun had suddenly gone behind a cloud, for any communication from Heinrich could not be good. Feeling as if he were about to lift a rock and find a scorpion lurking underneath, he broke the seal. Those closest to him also tensed, and were relieved when Richard looked up from the letter, for he seemed startled, not dismayed.

 

“Some of you may have heard that the French king agreed to wed the sister of the King of Denmark. My lady mother and my justiciars believe that Philippe hoped to get the use of the Danish fleet for an invasion of England. If that was indeed his motivation for this marriage, he has a most peculiar way of courting the Danes, for he disavowed his bride the day after the wedding.”

 

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