“What do you mean?”
“I mean that Heinrich’s need to save face has blinded him to the consequences of his demand. As soon as you do homage to him, you become the most powerful and highborn vassal of the empire. Think what that could mean if Heinrich dies unexpectedly. He has no son, and even if he did, our crown passes by election, not birth. You’d have a vote when it came to electing the next Holy Roman Emperor and your opinion would sway others. The crown might even be offered to you,” he said, with a sudden grin. “Now, that’s a thought to keep Heinrich awake at night!”
Richard was not yet ready to appreciate the irony of that. For the moment, he could think of nothing but the ordeal he faced on the morrow—having to kneel and swear homage and fealty to a man he loathed, a man he wanted dead. Turning away, he sat down in the closest chair, and the slump of his shoulders told Eleanor that she’d won. His pain tore at her heart, but his freedom mattered more. She hoped that in time, he’d come to see that, too. But even if he did not, she would have no regrets. There was nothing she would not have done to get her son out of Heinrich’s power—nothing.
THERE WAS A WIDELY HELD BELIEF that certain days had been identified by ancient Egyptian astrologers as days of ill fortune, upon which no enterprise should be started or blood drawn by doctors. The fourth of February was one of these unlucky Egyptian days, yet to Eleanor, it would be a blessed day, for in the third hour of the morning, her son regained his freedom. She was startled and embarrassed to find herself bursting into tears when it finally happened. But the audience was very moved by the sight of this celebrated, aging queen sobbing in the Lionheart’s arms, and Heinrich was convinced that it had been a deliberate maneuver to sway public opinion in Richard’s favor. He’d awakened in a foul mood, for not even Richard’s act of homage could take away the bitter taste of defeat. But he cheered up somewhat after Markward von Annweiler reminded him how outraged the French king would be when he learned that Richard had done homage to Heinrich for Normandy and Anjou, and it was with a chilly smile of satisfaction that he became the English king’s liege lord.
Eleanor was sickened by that smile, for although nothing showed on Richard’s face, she knew it would haunt his memory in years to come. The ceremony was a formal one, carefully scripted beforehand. Richard knelt and pledged his faith and fidelity to the emperor. He then offered his leather cap to Heinrich as a symbol of vassalage. Heinrich solemnly accepted the cap and then handed it back to Richard, along with a heavy gold cross, in return for a promise of an annual payment of five thousand marks. Eleanor knew Heinrich would never see a farthing of it. As she glanced around the hall, she thought Richard’s German allies seemed pleased that so renowned a king was now a vassal of the Holy Roman Empire, but Richard’s own vassals looked like men attending a public hanging. She consoled herself that at least the worst was over now, although bidding farewell to the hostages would be difficult.
After his homage to Heinrich, Richard took the homage of eleven German lords and prelates in return for money fiefs, yearly revenues to be paid from the rents of English and Norman manors. He had told Eleanor that he’d formed an alliance meant to encircle and isolate the French king, while also rewarding the men who’d been so instrumental in winning his freedom. But she’d not realized the full significance of this coalition until she saw how many distinguished, influential men had been drawn into Richard’s league against Philippe: the archbishops of Cologne and Mainz, the Bishop-elect of Liege, the dukes of Brabant and Limburg, the Count of Holland, the Marquis of Montferrat, and in a fine example of either political cynicism or realism, Baldwin, the eldest son of the Count of Flanders and Hainaut, who was firmly allied with the French king. Even Leopold of Austria and Heinrich’s uncle Konrad, the Count Palatine, and his brother, the Duke of Swabia, did homage to Richard for English fiefs.