“If you feel this warrants discussion, I am willing to hear you out. But I must say at the outset that I have no intention of having a second coronation.”
“I totally agree with you, my liege. I see no need for a second coronation, either, nor did most of the other bishops. They were talking of something less than that, mayhap a crown-wearing ceremony. Kings used to do that several times a year, but your lord father ended the tradition, not liking the bother of it all. So it would not be an innovation, merely the revival of an old custom—a way to celebrate your return to your kingdom and your subjects.”
“You have a tongue agile enough to lick honey off thorns,” Richard said wryly, quoting a Welsh proverb he’d learned from Morgan. “You sweetened the drink almost enough to disguise the taste of the hemlock—almost.” As little as he wanted to do this, mayhap it was a debt he’d owed from the moment he’d knelt before Heinrich in the great hall at Mainz. “What of the rest of you? Do you all think this is necessary, too?”
Eleanor said simply that it was a decision only he should make. He got an emphatic “No!” from both Longchamp and André. But the other men seemed hesitant to commit themselves. Will Marshal at last said slowly, “The people would love such a ceremony, my liege.” Geoff, Hamelin, Fulk, and William Briwerre then echoed that, too, and when Hubert suggested that they could pay honor to the Scots king by asking him to take part in the ceremony, Richard knew he’d been outflanked.
“I will think about it,” he said, even though he knew—and they did, too—that he was conceding defeat, not delaying the decision.
The meeting ended soon thereafter. Richard walked across the bailey with André, neither one speaking until they reached the keep. André rarely made use of Richard’s given name, calling him “my liege” in public, and “cousin” in private; he did so now. “Richard, you did nothing shameful during your time in Germany, and your honor bears no stain.” The younger man’s face remained impassive, his thoughts guarded. But André coaxed a reluctant smile from him then by adding with a grin, “However, I must say that I rather fancy your idea of bathing in French blood.”
JOHN AND HIS ALLY, the Bishop of Coventry, were ordered to appear within forty days to answer the charges of seizing castles, laying waste to lands in England and Normandy and making a treaty with the French king in violation of the fealty he’d sworn to Richard. John was declared to have forfeited any right to the kingdom or his English estates. And it was announced that Richard would celebrate Easter with the Scots King, William the Lion, and then have a formal crown-wearing ceremony at Winchester on the following Sunday.
“SO I HAVE NO SAY in it at all?”
Berengaria sympathized with Anna’s plight, but she still marveled that the girl would even ask such a question; at sixteen, she was old enough to know women wed whom they were told to wed. Joanna sympathized, too, while finding it easier than Berengaria to understand Anna’s rebellious streak. So rather than chiding her, she patiently explained again that the marriage was part of the terms of the pact of Worms, part of the price Richard had been forced to pay for his freedom. She’d done her best to reconcile Anna to her fate, reminding her that the Austrian duke was her kinsman and he’d shown genuine concern for her welfare, repeating all of the favorable things they’d gleaned from Morgan and from Richard and Eleanor’s letters about Leopold’s son. Anna was not yet ready to hear them, though, and they finally withdrew, giving her all they had to offer—time and privacy.
Back in the hall, Joanna did not see Mariam and when she asked Dame Beatrix, the older woman said with a sly smile that Mariam and Morgan were out exploring Poitiers again, which they all knew meant visiting one of the city’s inns. Joanna laughed, but Berengaria was not as amused, for she’d recently had a worrying conversation with Guillaume Tempiers, the Bishop of Poitiers, about Mariam and Morgan. Berengaria’s friendship with Bishop Guillaume had been a source of great comfort in the six months she’d spent in Poitiers, for he was widely respected for his exceptional piety and integrity and at times he seemed almost saintly to her in his determination to combat both secular sins and ecclesiastical abuses. So when he’d drawn Berengaria aside and spoken of his concern for the Lady Mariam’s soul, she’d taken that concern seriously.
“Joanna, did Mariam tell you the bishop had admonished her about her relationship with Morgan?”