‘How right he is! Oh Charles, you do not know how I have suffered through those Despensers.’

‘You have mentioned it now and then sister,’ replied Charles with increasing coolness.

Oh God help me, thought Isabella. He is going to send me back.

‘You want me to leave do you?’ she asked bluntly.

‘My dear sister, you have been long here. Your business is settled. It is natural that you should return to your husband.’

‘You mock me. My husband! You know what he is.’

‘You and your son should return to your home.’

‘He asks that you send us, does he? In what terms?’

‘He asks why there is the delay in your returning and mentions that you have been away long enough.’

‘Charles, I am afraid.’

‘You Isabella― afraid! I know you are many things but I am surprised to find you afraid.’

‘They will kill me if I go back,’ she said quietly.

‘Kill you? My sister. They would have to answer to me if they did. I do not think they would wish that.’

‘Charles, it would not seem like murder. But it would be. The Despensers hate me. You know what it was like before I came. I was almost their prisoner.

That is what they wish. Oh, they will not cut off my head. Nor will they give me a dose of poison which immediately removes me― but they will kill me nevertheless. They will imprison me and slowly they will take my life away from me.’

‘Isabella, you over-excite yourself.’

‘Would you not be over-excited brother if you were faced with murderers?

Let me stay here, only a little longer I promise you. I will make plans― but I cannot go back to Edward and the Despensers yet.’

She had fallen to her knees and raised her eyes supplicatingly to his. She was very beautiful and she was his sister and they were the only two left of their father’s children. Charles himself felt none too secure with the Templars curse hanging over him.

He raised her and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

‘Do not be so dramatic, Isabella. Certainly, you may stay a little longer. I will write something to Edward. But you must not get up to mischief. Do you understand?’

‘Mischief?’

‘There are rumours. I have heard that you are over-friendly with Roger de Mortimer.’

‘What calumnies! Of course I am friendly with the English here in France.’

‘You have gathered a good many about you.’

‘Indeed why should they not speak with me? They are unhappy about the King even as I am.’

‘I would not wish my court to be the plotting ground.’

‘Dear Charles! You are going to be my good brother. I promise you that I shall make my plans for departure and as soon as I can bring myself to do so I shall leave.’

‘And when you go take your malcontents with you.’

‘And you will write to Edward.’

‘And tell him that your departure has been temporarily postponed but that within a few weeks you will be making your plans to leave.’


* * *

The King of France was frowning over a letter he had received from the King of England. A few weeks had passed since he had told Isabella she might remain a little longer, but so far she had said nothing about her departure.

Very dear and beloved brother, wrote Edward, ‘We have received and well considered your letters― It seems that you have been told, dearest brother, by persons whom you consider worthy of credit that our companion, the Queen of England, dare not return to us, being in peril of her life, as she apprehends from Hugh le Despenser. Certes, dearest brother, it cannot be that she can have fear of him, or any other man in our realm. If either Hugh or any other living being in our dominions would wish to do her ill, and it came to our knowledge, we would chastise him in a manner which would be an example to all others― We also entreat you, dearly beloved brother, that you would be pleased to deliver up to us Edward our beloved eldest son, your nephew― We pray you to suffer him to come to us with all speed for we have often sent for him and we greatly wish to see him and speak with him, and every day we long for his return― Charles’s brow was wrinkled. The letter was genuine enough and although he despised Edward as an incompetent ruler, he could not believe he was capable of plotting the murder of his wife. Whereas he could believe of his sister that she was concerned in some mischief.

And whatever it was, he wanted no part in it. He felt weak in health, lacking in vitality; he doubted he would ever get a son and heir. The curse of the Templars sat heavily upon him and he was not going to look for trouble outside his realm.

Isabella would have to take her problems elsewhere.

By the same messenger there were letters for Isabella and young Edward.

Isabella, with Mortimer beside her, read hers aloud.

‘Lady, Oftentimes have we sent to you, both before and after the homage, of our great desire to have you with us, and of our grief at heart at your long absence; and as we understand that you do us great mischief by this, we will that you come to us with all speed and without further excuses.

Before the homage was performed you made the advancement of that business an excuse and now that we have sent by the honourable father, the Bishop of Winchester, our safe conduct to you “you will not come for fear and doubt of Hugh le Despenser” whereat we cannot marvel too much― And, Certes, lady, we know for truth, and so know you, that he has always procured from us all the he could for you, nor to you have either evil or villainy been done since you entered into our comradeship― and we are much displeased, now the homage has been made to our dearest brother, the King of France, and we have much fair prospect of amity, that you, whom we have sent to make the peace, should be the cause (which God forfend) of increasing the breach between us by things which are feigned and contrary to the truth. Wherefore we charge you as urgently as we can, that ceasing from all pretences, delays and false excuses, you will come to us with all the haste you can. Our Bishop has reported to us that our brother, the King of France has told you in his presence “that, by the tenor of your safe conduct, you would not be delayed or molested in coming to us as a wife should to her lord”― Also we require of you that our dear son Edward return to us with all possible speed for we much desire to see him and speak with him― Isabella finished reading and looked in dismay at Mortimer, who said: ‘It is clear that he is becoming anxious.’

‘He will have written to my brother,’ replied Isabella. ‘My dear love, soon it will be impossible for us to remain in France.’

‘And it is equally impossible for you to return to England. We must gather together an army. We must be certain of a good reception when we do return to England. If only we had a few more months.’

‘My brother cannot force me to go.’

‘I fear he can. And he doubtless will if Edward continues to demand your return.’

‘There must be a way,’ cried Isabella. ‘We have come so far we cannot throw everything away now. Moreover in spite of Edward’s protestations, I would not give much for my chances with the Despensers if I returned to England.’

‘Let us not show panic. Let us see what is the effect of the letters Edward will have sent to your brother.’

‘There is something else,’ cried Isabella. ‘He will have written to my son.’

There was silence. ‘I must go to Edward and see what his father has written.

The boy is asking direct questions.’

‘He will not wish to leave you,’ Mortimer assured her. ‘You have cast a spell over him as you have over us all.’

‘It is true that he loves me well, but he is clever. He thinks often of when he will be King.’

‘There is no harm in that. The sooner he is, the better.’

‘Still, Stapledon instilled some filial feeling in him. A curse on that man!

These letters are the direct result of his escape and reporting to the King.’

‘It is done. Let us go on from where we now stand.’

‘You are right, my love. I will go at once to young Edward.’

The young Prince was at that moment reading the letter from his father.

Very dear son, As you are young and of tender age, we remind you of that which we charged and commanded you at your departure from Dover and you answered then, as we know with good will “that you will not trespass or disobey any of our injunctions in any point for any one.” And since that your homage has been received by our dearest brother, the King of France, your uncle, be pleased to take your leave of him and return to us with all speed in company with your mother, if so be that she will come quickly and if she will not come, then come you without further delay, for we have great desire to see you and to speak with you; therefore stay not for your mother, not for anyone else on our blessing― Of course they must return to England, thought Edward. He wondered why his mother waived the matter every time he suggested it. It had been pleasant at the Court of France but he was looking forward to returning home. He would speak to his mother at the earliest possible moment.

He did not have to wait long. As he was putting the letter into a drawer his mother came into the room.

‘Oh Edward, dear son,’ she cried embracing him, ‘did you enjoy the hunt? I hear you brought in a fine buck.’

‘I don’t think I ever saw a finer,’ replied Edward enthusiastically. ‘My lady, I have heard from my father.’