"Yes," Ranulf said. "I have heard that he is nothing like either of his gentle parents."
"The church now attempts to mediate a solution to this long and dark crisis that has plagued England these many years. The church has suggested that King Stephen rule for his lifetime, but that when he dies, the crown go to Duke Henry, the empress’s eldest son." The knight paused, and took a swallow of his wine. "The king," he continued, "of course, resists this solution, but in the end he must come to accept it. Eustace is unfit to rule, and his young brother, William, has assured Duke Henry that he is content as Count of Bologne. William has no designs upon the English throne."
"But Duke Henry does," Ranulf said quietly.
"It is his by right, my lord," Sir Garrick replied. "My master wishes to know if you will support him over Prince Eustace once King Stephen is dead. Your manor, small as it may be, sits in a strategic area, near to the Welsh border." Sir Garrick gazed about him. "Are your walls new?"
"Nay," Ranulf responded. "We have simply strengthened them. Come, and I will show you, Sir Garrick."
The two men rose and walked toward the demesne.
Elf signaled to Willa and Ida. "Come," she said, "we must prepare the best bed space for this knight." The three women hurried into the house.
As they lay abed later, Elf asked her husband, "What will you do, Ranulf? Will you support Eustace or Duke Henry?"
"Duke Henry," her husband replied without hesitation.
"Why?"
"For several reasons, petite. Eustace, whom I have known all of his life, is a very unpleasant man lacking completely in his father’s charm or chivalry. I began my career when I was just seven at King Henry’s court. That king died when I was almost thirteen. I was Stephen of Blois’s page, whenever he was in England. He was his uncle, the king's, favorite. I learned to love him, although if the truth be known, he is not the best of kings, petite. He has charm, and he is a brave fighter, but he has not the other skills needed to be successful. Only the fact that the Empress Matilda is so arrogant, over-proud, and nasty a lady-coupled with the fact it suited the more powerful lords and barons to keep the country in chaos without a strong central government-has kept Stephen king in power. When he became king, I was made one of his squires, then knighted when I was sixteen. He was always kind to me, and generous as well. Had I been a boastful man, I should have been resented by those whose sons were of higher rank. My loyalty was always and openly to King Stephen. You understand why, don't you, Elf?"
She nodded.
He continued. "I knew his queen, the heiress of Eustace, the Count of Bologne, and his wife, Mary of Scotland, King Malcolm’s youngest child. She was called Matilda, and she loved King Stephen with all her heart as he loved her. There were three sons of the union. Baldwin, who died when he was nine. Eustace, and William, who is the Count of Bologne today. There were two daughters. The first died before she was two. The second, Mary, is unwed. Count William and his sister, Mary, are courteous and pleasant people. Eustace is violent, haughty, disdainful, and overbearing. Even his own wife, Constance of Toulouse, does not like him, and they have no children. She is the French king’s sister, and he hoped to regain Normandy through her. He did not, of course, for France didn't wish to engage the lords of Anjou over the matter. They had taken Normandy while Stephen and Matilda fought over England."
He paused, contemplative.
"I believe I understand, Ranulf, except perhaps for the particulars about Eustace."
"There is a slyness about him that troubles me, Elf. He is too quick-tempered. Frankly, petite, I do not trust him. While I love his father, I cannot support the son."
"But what do you know of Duke Henry?"
"Surprisingly, a great deal, for he has been considered Stephen’s rival for several years now since his mother gave up the fight. He is married to your namesake, Alienor, the great heiress of Aquitaine, whose marriage to King Louis VII was annulled on the basis of their consanguinity. She is ten years Duke Henry’s senior, but he is mad for her. His household is constantly on the move. He, himself, seems to need little sleep. It is said he can travel the day long and still remain up half the night drinking. His secretaries complain constantly of overwork. He exhausts everyone around him. He is educated and scholarly like his late grandfather, King Henry I. He loves hunting, feasting, and is said to enjoy the ladies prodigiously. He will be a young king, for he is but twenty, and wed only a year, but sired a son three months after his marriage to Alienor of Aquitaine. Some say she seduced him into marriage.
"Duke Henry is a good soldier. While his temper is said to be fierce-'tis said one of his ancestors wed with a daughter of the devil-he is a fair man, evenhanded in his rule. His kingdom is huge, yet well run. Other than his appetite for women, which has not, despite his love for his wife, abated, I can find no fault in him. He is more kingly than Prince Eustace will ever be. That is why I will support Duke Henry. England will be in better hands, certainly stronger hands, with Duke Henry."
"Perhaps the king will agree to the church’s compromise," Elf suggested hopefully.
Ranulf shook his head. "I doubt it," he said. "King Stephen is a stubborn man, and every bit as ambitious for his son as the Empress Matilda is for hers. At least when the time comes, my good lord will be dead and not know I cannot support his weakling offspring."
In the morning Ranulf de Glandeville and his guest walked out in the near meadow where the sheep grazed placidly. Elf watched them go, wishing she might hear the conversation, although she knew what her husband would say.
"You may tell your master, Duke Henry," Ranulf began, "that I will support his claim to England’s throne upon the death of King Stephen, but not before. I cannot afford to make enemies of Prince Eustace and his friends. None of them is above setting the Welsh upon me in revenge. Ashlin has had a bounteous crop of lambs and calves this season. My fields are green with healthy new growth. I want to be able to harvest those fields, and take a fine large load of wool to the fair in Hereford come Lammastide. If my manor is attacked in an effort to redress what Eustace considers a wrong done to him by me, I will not be able to feed my people this winter next, and Duke Henry certainly will not."
"Your walls look strong," Sir Garrick noted with a small smile.
"My walls enclose the demesne only. My fields and my meadows are all open and not defendable, particularly with the crop half grown. The Welsh have left Ashlin in peace because they do not believe it to be worth their time and effort. I prefer they continue to believe that. I prefer that no one offer them coin to come here and ravage my lands. Your duke with his vast lands and his castles already lives like a king. There are only great estates on the other side of the channel. Here in England, however, while we have some great lords, there are many more small manors like mine, with little lordlings like me who work side by side with their people in the fields. If we can raise enough wheat, barley, and oats, enough food from our kitchen gardens, a bountiful crop in the orchards, enough livestock and poultry to keep us through a long winter, we consider ourselves blessed. Your duke must understand this is the way in England.
"I wonder if he does? He is surrounded by those who would please him, who say what he would have them say. They have power and wealth, and they seek to gain even more. I am a simple knight with a small manor. It is all I desire. Duke Henry will have my undying loyalty when he comes into power. I give you my bond, Sir Garrick, and my word has always been known to be good."
"Your reputation precedes you, Ranulf de Glandeville. I will tell Duke Henry what you have told me. They are truly the first honest words I have heard in months. The lords in this land blow with the wind. Few are as pure of heart as you have shown me you are. Neither you and your fair wife, nor your people will suffer for your words. Continue in your loyalty to King Stephen until the day he dies. After that you will be expected to come to Westminster to swear your fealty to your new king, Henry of Anjou."
"It is agreed," Ranulf said, and the two men clasped forearms in acknowledgment of the pledge given by Ashlin’s lord, and accepted by Duke Henry’s representative.
Several days later, given directions to Baron Hugh de Warenne and supphed with a few provisions, Sir Garrick Taliferro departed Ashlin.
"What will happen to the king’s son?" Elf asked Ranulf. "Surely he will not simply give way to Duke Henry."
"Nay, he will not," Ranulf said. "He will fight, but he is no soldier as his father is. The duke will overcome him by force of arms. Then and only then will England have a king who has no rivals to breed up strife and warfare. Henry of Anjou will rule with an iron hand, petite, but we will finally have peace again in this land."
Shortly after Michaelmas came word that Prince Eustace had died suddenly-and quite unexpectedly. The word was brought to them by Hugh de Warenne himself, who rode over from his manor to tell Ranulf. Baron Hugh, a gossipy man, had heard the news from a passing peddler and hurried to inform his daughter’s former in-laws. The peddler didn't know the date, but Eustace had died in August. The king, preparing to fight Duke Henry at that time, was a broken man. He agreed to the church’s compromise. Henry of Anjou would be England’s next king.
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