She had forgotten one of Richard’s needs, though, something he found as essential as air. But André had not, and as Richard stood beside his new stallion, talking soothingly to accustom the animal to his presence before mounting, André approached with a large hemp sack. “I thought you might want this,” he said, opening the bag to reveal a scabbard of Spanish leather.
Sweeping his mantle back, Richard fastened the belt and then drew the sword from its scabbard. He saw at once that a superior bladesmith had labored to create this superb weapon, with a thirty-inch blade and an enameled pommel, reminding him of the sword he’d been given by his mother upon his investiture as Duke of Aquitaine at age fifteen. He admired its balance, his eyes caressing that slender steel blade as a lover might, and when he glanced toward his cousin, André thought that he finally looked like himself.
“Do you know how long it has been since I’ve held a sword in my hand, André?”
The other man shook his head.
“One year, six weeks, and three days.” For a moment, their eyes held, and then Richard sheathed his sword, swung up into the saddle, and gave the command to move out.
RICHARD’S HOMEWARD JOURNEY WAS turned into a triumphal procession by his German allies. He and Eleanor spent three days as the archbishop’s guests in Cologne, where they were feasted lavishly and entertained by some of Germany’s finest minnesingers. On February 14, they heard Mass in the great cathedral, and the English chroniclers reported gleefully that the archbishop had deliberately chosen the Mass for the August feast day of St Peter in Chains, with the Introit that began, “Now I know that the Lord hath sent His angel and delivered me from the hand of Herod.” The German emperor’s reaction to that was not recorded.
Richard rewarded Cologne by issuing charters exempting its merchants from paying rent for their London guildhall and other local fees and giving them the right to sell their wares at all English fairs and to exercise their own customs. As England was a major wool exporter to the Rhineland city and its largest market for Cologne’s textiles, wine, and luxury goods, these privileges were greatly appreciated, rebounding to the credit of their archbishop for allying himself with the English king. And although neither man knew it at the time, their friendship would pay even greater benefits in years to come.
From Cologne, they passed into the territory of the Duke of Brabant, and again they were feted at each town or castle along the way. By late February, they’d reached the duke’s port of Antwerp. Here English ships were riding at anchor in the harbor. After parting from Archbishop Adolf and the duke, Richard spent five days at Zwin. The weather was unsettled, and he took advantage of the delay to scout the estuaries and inlets of the islands, for he had a keen interest in naval warfare and felt certain that if a French-Flemish invasion occurred, it would sail from these waters. The winds finally were favorable, and on March 12, they unfurled sails, raised anchors, and headed out into the Channel. By the next day, they were approaching the port of Sandwich. It had been four years since Richard had last set foot on English soil.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
MARCH 1194
Sandwich, England
Richard’s unheralded arrival at Sandwich stirred up much excitement, as none had known when he would be returning or even if he would be returning, for many of his subjects had feared he would die on crusade or in a German dungeon. After greeting the townspeople, he continued on to Canterbury, where he gave thanks at the shrine of the martyred saint Thomas Becket, and greatly pleased the Christchurch monks by declaring that he’d not wanted to enter any English church until he’d visited the mother church of Canterbury. Hubert Walter was away besieging John’s castle at Marlborough, but the prior was delighted to play host to their renowned crusader king and his venerated queen mother. It was a source of ironic amusement to Eleanor that after a lifetime of controversy and public disapproval, she was now acclaimed for the very qualities that had once earned her such censure. She had never wielded as much power as she had during Richard’s crusade and captivity. But none had challenged her exercise of this unique authority, for her boldness, determination, and political shrewdness—so unseemly in a wife—were deemed admirable in a mother fighting for her son.