It was in Limassol that Richard married Berengaria.

I knew I could trust him to keep his promise to me. Joanna wrote and told me about it. I was glad she did for she told me in more detail than the others would have.

The people were pleased to have a royal wedding in their town. The romantic situation appealed to them. Moreover, Richard was such an impressive figure. I doubt any of them had ever seen a man so handsome; Berengaria was a charming bride, and the fact that she had traveled from Navarre and had made the hazardous journey to her future husband was intriguing.

Of course, the Archbishop of Canterbury should perform the ceremony, but on this occasion it was quite out of the question, and Richard’s chaplain Nicholas would have to serve instead. I daresay it occurred to Richard that there might be a possibility of postponing the wedding until he returned to England that the Archbishop of Canterbury might officiate, but he must have remembered his promise to me.

This was something more than a wedding for, having driven Isaac Comnenus several miles inland, Richard had decided to crown himself King of Cyprus. Thus he would make Cyprus safe for pilgrims. He had always said that making the way safe was as important as getting to Jerusalem itself. Many pilgrims had set out and many had been lost on the way, through the treachery of those through whose land they had had to pass. Now he was making Cyprus safe, there should be both a wedding and a coronation.

Joanna said that Berengaria looked very charming with her long hair parted in the center; she wore a transparent veil held in place by a jewel. She was so happy that she looked quite beautiful in her long white gown. Richard looked godlike. Joanna rhapsodized over his appearance. She had never seen any man so splendid. His great height, his Nordic looks, his imperious manner were such as to make people worship him. They were ready to believe in his divinity; and since he had told them that he wished them no ill, they accepted him gladly, for Isaac Comnenus was far from a benevolent ruler.

Richard walked to the church, one of his splendidly appareled knights going before him, leading his horse, whose saddle glittered with jewels. The people crowded in to the feast and, when they saw this godlike being playing the lute so sweetly and singing to accompany it, they thought it was indeed a visitation from Heaven.

So at last they were married. Joanna knew my thoughts, and she added that after the feasting the bride and groom were conducted to their tent. In Joanna’s opinion all ended satisfactorily.

I pray Berengaria be fruitful soon, I said to myself.

The wedding celebrations had been brief. I supposed Richard was more interested in the conquest of Cyprus; and Isaac Comnenus was not a straightforward person to deal with. Richard had announced that Isaac was his vassal and that he would rule Cyprus under him; but as he was committed to leave for the Holy Land, he proposed to put a deputy in charge of the island and take with him Isaac who must now muster up a company of his best soldiers.

On the morning when they were due to depart, Isaac had disappeared. He clearly had no intention of going to the Holy Land. He did not consider Richard ruler of his island; he had merely appeared to capitulate in order to gain time.

But Isaac was no match for Richard, even though, during the fighting, Richard was taken ill with the return of the ague which plagued him from time to time. That he should be enfeebled angered him, but when the fever was on him there was nothing he could do but rest.

Urgent messages were coming from the King of France. Where was Richard? Why was he not with him? Was he or was he not supposed to be leading the crusade?

The King of France would have to learn that one of the greatest tasks facing the crusaders was to make the way safe for pilgrims, and that was what Richard was doing. In his messages Philip referred to him as Duke of Normandy, implying that he was ordering Richard to obey him. That always infuriated Richard as it had Henry. He sent a message back to say that the King of England would come in his own good time and took orders from no one.

But he was eager to go. He was afraid that Philip Augustus would take Acre without him.

He set two men whom he could trust to administer the island. Isaac was in silver chains, and his daughter was in the care of Joanna and Berengaria. So Richard set sail.

The Cyprus adventure had delayed him considerably; but he had made the way safer for pilgrims. and his fame had increased.

Now he was ready to join forces with Philip Augustus and to throw himself into the all-important battle for Acre.

The Road to Chlus

THE MONTHS WERE PASSING. Christmas was upon us. News came that the key town of Acre had fallen to the Christians. I was delighted. This would mean that they were ready to march on Jerusalem. I prayed that their crusade would soon have achieved its purpose and Richard would be back with us.

I spent Christmas at Bonneville-sur-Touques. It was very quiet but I was in no mood for merriment. I was very anxious about Richard. I was sure the climate he was enduring would bring little good to his health, and I was uneasy about England and the French provinces.

Then I had disquieting news. A jongleur came to the castle. He had been in Paris and could tell us that Philip Augustus had returned home from the crusade.

“He is very ill, my lady,” I was told. “His hair has fallen out and his nails are dropping off.”

“Was it some pestilential fever?”

“No one knows. He said he was forced to return home because of the treachery of the King of England.”

“This is nonsense,” I said. “He is more likely to be treacherous than my son.”

“It is what he is saying, my lady. He says that the Franks captured Acre and that Richard Plantagenet would take all the credit for it.”

“A likely story. How dare he!”

“The people of Paris are giving him a hero’s welcome.”

I was very uneasy. They must have quarreled, and this, like most lovers’ quarrels, would be violent. I knew Philip Augustus was jealous of Richard. How could he help it? Philip Augustus was a wily King; he could be more devious than Richard; but he lacked Richard’s charisma; he was no Coeur de Lion. I had heard it said that, as soon as they saw Richard, men clustered about him and were ready to go wherever he led. That must have been galling to Philip Augustus. It was true he had loved Richard but that was one part of himself; the rest was all king, and kings of France would always regard kings of England as their natural enemies.

Philip Augustus was saying that his illness was a result of poison and, in view of his relationship with Richard, had half suggested that Richard was behind the attempt to poison him.

I thought the quarrel must have gone very deep.

Philip Augustus was determined to show his anger. He went into Normandy and at Gisors demanded that his sister Alais be returned to him. The Seneschal refused to give her up. I supported him in this. Alais must remain where she was for a time. I did not want more stories spread about her seduction by Henry and her desertion by Richard.

It looked to me as though we might be at war with France and, with Richard far away, that was the last thing I wanted.

However, I was mistaken. Having just returned from what was evidently an exhausting experience and being truly very sick, Philip Augustus had no stomach for war at such a time.

I should have looked elsewhere for trouble.

Messengers came from England with disturbing information. My son John was spreading the fabrication that his brother Richard had no intention of coming home, and as the people could not continue without a king, he, the late King’s son, was ready to be crowned. For this purpose he would need allies. He must have heard of the quarrel between Philip Augustus and Richard, and the French King was just the ally for him. With Richard away and with the French King’s help, it should be an easy matter to take the crown. What revenge for Philip Augustus! What glory for John!

Now I was really worried. I could no longer stay in France. I must go to England with all speed.

It was February—just about the worst time of year to cross the treacherous Channel, but no matter, I must go.

I suffered the journey and made my way to Windsor, where I summoned all the barons and the clergy to come to me.

When they were assembled, I said: “I have information that my son John is gathering together a fleet and an army of mercenaries. His object is to go to France and solicit the help of the French King in gaining the crown. He is ready to give up certain overseas possessions in return for this help; and Philip Augustus is ready to give it. I have heard that he is offering John his daughter Adela in marriage and proposing to give her all Richard’s Continental lands.”

The Council was grave. They did not approve of the King’s absenting himself from his country. He was asking for trouble in doing so. But by now they knew something of John’s character, and the last thing they wanted was for him to usurp the throne. They agreed with me that it must be stopped. The best way to do this was to threaten to seize all John’s English lands the moment he attempted to cross the sea.

Sullen and angry, John knew he dared not leave the country. He went down to his castle of Wallingford to brood over the wrongs he had suffered.

But I knew this would not be the end of his endeavors. I had to be watchful all the time.

I did immediately dispatch a messenger to Richard telling him he must come home. His throne was in danger. We had foiled John once, but we might not be able to do it again. John was obstinate and he longed to get possession of the crown. He was unstable and cruel. It is sad to have to admit this of one’s son but it was true. I was glad that the barons were aware of it.