Edward had no alternative but to submit, but he had expressed his gratitude to Hugh le Despenser for his support.

‘I shall not forget my friends,’ he said, and when shortly afterwards Hugh le Despenser was dismissed from the council, he remembered those words.


* * *

The King rode with Gaveston to Bristol, seeking to make the journey as long as possible.

He was sick at heart. There was no joy in life for him without his beloved Perrot. Gaveston declared that his own sorrow at the parting was as great if not greater than the King’s.

This was not true of course. In fact Gaveston was somewhat excited at the prospect of governing Ireland. There he would be treated like a king. He had come with all the trappings of royalty and he intended to be treated as such. It had been a stroke of brilliance to have thought of Ireland. He was determined to succeed there. That would be a blow for his enemies. They thought he was frivolous but he was by no means so. He frivolled to amuse the King, that was all. The King’s favour was necessary to him. Because of it, he was richest man in England; and he had been careful to get his treasures out of the country because he could never be sure when those barons were going to trump up some charges against him, and who knew they might take it into their heads to confiscate his goods. So he had made sure his wealth was taken into Gascony where he had some estates and there it awaited him if at any time he had to leave the country in a hurry. Edward was the most generous of men and he had bestowed on him the funds which the late King had gathered together for a crusade. Gaveston grimaced. He could make much good use of such treasure.

Better for him to possess it than that it should be frittered away on some useless campaign for killing Saracens and getting nowhere.. When he thought of all that had been wasted in that hopeless endeavor in the past he could feel really angry.

Well now he must say farewell to his sorrowing King and assure him that very soon he would be back with him.

‘I intend to make such a success of this Irish campaign, sweet lord, that your barons will tear their hair and smite their breasts and like as not grovel on the floor and eat the rushes.’

‘That was what my great grandfather used to do.’

‘They shall do the same, I promise you.’

‘Promise me one thing more important, my dear one. That you will never forget me and come back as loving as you left.’

‘I give you my word, dear lord.’

Edward stood on the shore and watched the ship sail away. Then he turned sorrowfully away. ‘I can know no happiness,’ he said, ‘until Perrot comes back to me.’

MURDER ON BLACKLOW HILL

EDWARD was desolate but Isabella was triumphant. She was furious, of course, to have been set aside for Gaveston and her inclination was to scorn her husband, but she had grown up since her marriage and was not going to act in a manner which might bring no good to herself. Strangely enough she was still physically in love with her husband. When she looked round the court, she could not find one man who was as handsome in her eyes.

As for Edward, he was pliant, amiable, and anxious to placate her and she found his melancholy attractive. She thought how gratifying it would be to win him away from Gaveston and when that fellow returned, as he undoubtedly would, it would give her immense satisfaction to see Edward turn away from him because of his love for his wife. It would be a difficult task to achieve with one of Edward’s proclivities, but the very immensity of it intrigued and inspired her.

There was one other consideration— and this was the chief of all: she wanted children. She must have a son who would inherit the throne. If she did, then she could guide and rule him; and if Edward so displeased the barons and they deposed him— which, it had already occurred to her, was not an impossibility— she would be there with her son ready to take the crown. That was looking forward a good many years but she was becoming shrewd and wise.

Edward had humiliated her beyond normal endurance. Very well, why should she not use him to get what she wanted from life? Determination had taken the place of humiliation and life had become quite amusing and exiting.


* * *

It was by no means so for Edward. He missed Gaveston desperately.

Sometimes he thought of giving up everything and joining him in Ireland. He could not do that, of course, and secretly he wondered whether Perrot would find him so attractive if he were not King. He must keep his royalty― Perrot set such store by it. He loved to see Perrot’s face light up when some gift was bestowed on him and only kings could provide the sort of gifts which Perrot wanted.

There was trouble in Scotland. Robert the Bruce, who been crowned King there, was endeavouring to regain the whole of his kingdom and drive out the English. The best thing that had happened to Scotland from Bruce’s point of view was the death of Edward the First, he whom they called the Hammer of the Scots, that Edward who had commanded that his bones he placed in a hammock and carried before his army. Bruce said cynically that he feared the bones of Edward the First more than he feared his son and any army led by him.

Insulting words, but let be, thought Edward. How can I be in Scotland when there is so much to be done here and I am unsure of the fidelity of those about me?

His father-in-law was offering advice. In fact, since the marriage Philip had made it clear that he took a great interest in Edward’s affairs. Philip had the Pope dancing to his tune; he wanted his son-in-law to do the same.

A messenger from the Pope had arrived in England and he told the King that his master was much disturbed by the practices carried out by the Knights Templars and that he wished the Order to be suppressed in England as it was being in France.

Edward was alarmed. He had always believed there was something holy about the Templars. He knew that over the centuries they had amassed great wealth but he remembered his father’s saying how magnificent they had been during his crusade and how their presence there had been such a help to the soldiers.

He sent for Walter Reynolds who had been a great comfort to him since the departure of Gaveston.

Walter was thoughtful when he heard of the Pope’s instruction. ‘You can depend upon it, this does not come so much from His Holiness as from the King of France,’ was his comment.

‘Philip has started to suppress the Templars. Walter, I fear it will bring me ill luck. I fear if I do this, something awful will happen. I might never see Perrot again.’

‘The King of France has amassed great wealth through the suppression of the Order, my lord.’

‘I know it well.’

‘And a king never needed money more than you do.’

‘It seems the wrong way to get it.’

‘If it is true that they practise these obscene acts―’ Walter licked his lips and Edward knew that Walter was thinking how he would like to witness some of them.

‘Do you believe it, Walter?’

Walter shrugged his shoulders. ‘It would be a way of replenishing the royal coffers,’ was his comment.

Edward shuddered. ‘I will not do it.’ he said. ‘Frankly, Walter, I do not believe it. My father-in-law is a ruthless man. He needs money, so he looks round to see who has some. He has alighted on the Templars. I think this will bring him ill luck. The Templars are― or were― men of God.’

‘You will doubtless put it before the council.’

‘This I must do, but somehow, Walter, I fancy they will not wish to do it either. The Templars have lived peaceably here for many years. I had rather they continued to do so.’

‘The King of France is the most powerful man in Europe, my lord. It is a blessing that you married his daughter.’ Walter smirked. ‘The lady seems a little more pleased with life of late. I doubt not this state of affairs has reached the French King’s ears.’

‘If he thinks to rule me,’ said Edward somewhat petulantly, ‘I shall defy him.’

‘Who is the King of France to govern the King of England! He is determined though that the Templars be suppressed and not only in his own country. It may be that he wishes to ease his conscience by letting others share his guilt― if guilt it is.’

‘If these men are innocent, Walter―’

‘I doubt they are that. It is not the nature of men to be innocent and when an Order amasses great wealth it can become obsessed by that wealth and eager to see it multiply. They say there was much indulgence among these men. They lived in luxury, they belied their holy laws. Oh yes, that seems very likely, my lord.’

‘But does this deserve torture and death?’

‘The King of France thinks so.’

‘Do you think he has lived such a virtuous life?’

‘That is beside the point if I may say so, lord. Philip is a king; these men proclaim to be holy knights. They have been foolish. They should not have become so wealthy for where there is wealth there will always be those who covet it and scheme to take possession of it. There is no doubt that Philip is determined on their destruction. He sent for the master, Jacques de Molai, on pretext of wishing to talk to him. Molai came to Paris from Cyprus and was treated well at first to allay his suspicions. Then suddenly Philip swooped on Molai and sixty of his knights of high order. They were taken to noisome dungeons and there daily these Knights Templars are submitted to hideous torture.’