‘Go to these rogues,’ shouted the King, ‘and tell them that if they are not in Portsmouth within the week I will seize their castles and lands, and what shall be done to them I leave them to guess.’

The messenger made off with all speed, his one desire being to put as great a distance between himself and John as possible.

‘Now,’ cried the King, ‘which is the nearest castle of these rebel barons?’

He discovered it belonged to a certain William of Albini.

‘They shall see that I mean what I say,’ he declared. ‘We will take this castle, raze it to the ground and hang all those who stand in our way as a lesson to the others.’

John was on the march, Isabella temporarily forgotten. His mouth was set in a firm line; his eyes were slightly bloodshot; there was a strength of purpose in him which all those about him recognised and they wondered whether they had misjudged John.

That was victory, for before they had reached the target castle, William of Albini sent out a body of men with his son offering him to John as hostage until he, William of Albini, could gather together his forces and present himself to the King at Portsmouth.

John laughed aloud. He had won the day. This, he thought, is the end of these barons’ petty revolt. This will show them who is their master.

All believed he was right, for the barons were now arriving at Portsmouth with their men and the money he had commanded them to bring.

Being John he must have his sly joke with them.

He collected the money they had brought which was to keep them and their soldiers during a long stay on the Continent. His eyes glistened as it was counted.

Then he said: ‘You have disappointed me, gentlemen. You show me that your hearts are not in this fight. You live smug and content on your lands here … lands which but for my noble ancestor known as William the Conqueror would never have been yours. You forget the land of your fathers which has been in my family’s possession since Great Rollo came and took it from the French. It is in peril, gentlemen, and you would rather stay behind and live in ease and comfort. The curses of the Conqueror on you! Stay behind. Do you think I want chicken-hearted men serving with me? Go back to your lands. I will take but your money. It will buy me soldiers whose profession it is to fight and will serve me better than you.’

With that he dismissed them.

He laughed aloud in high good spirits. He felt strong, invincible; and in such a mood he crossed the Channel.


Philip was considering the new turn of affairs. Never for one moment had he diverged from his ultimate goal which was to bring back Normandy to France and not only Normandy. Every acre of land which was in the possession of John, Philip was determined to bring to the crown of France. Politically nothing could have pleased him better than the accession of John, though he would always think of Richard with sadness in his heart. He would never forget their friendship, for nothing had been quite so important to him in his life as that; but now Richard was gone he could devote himself to his great task which he had always made clear was to make France as great as it had been under Charlemagne.

John was a weakling. Oh, he could strut and swagger but at heart he was not a bold man. He was a bully and bullies were cowards; he was vain in the extreme; he was no strategist. All Philip’s hopes lay in John. So he would forget his regrets for Richard and rejoice that fate had given him John to deal with.

He did not at this time want to indulge in another war. Wars were rarely decisive and with a man like John it should not be impossible to get the desired result without a great deal of unnecessary bloodshed and destruction.

Timing was all-important and at this particular moment it was better to go along with John and not let his true intentions be known.

Of course it was clear that this foolish act of John’s in abducting Hugh Lusignan’s bride was one which should be exploited to the full. The Lusignans, feeling themselves to have been shamefully injured, were yearning to take revenge. That was good. But not just at this time. He would keep the wound open and festering; but he was not yet ready to go to war against John. That time would come. Then he would go to the aid of Arthur and his supporters; Arthur should swear fealty to him; he would offer him his little daughter Marie as a bride. True, she was not yet six years old and Arthur had been affianced by Richard to the daughter of Tancred of Sicily; that was of no account. Then he, Philip, would have his hands on Normandy and John’s possessions on the Continent and, who knew, perhaps he could in due course stretch out to the crown of England. After all William the Conqueror had done just that when he had been only a Duke of Normandy.

But not yet. As the true strategist he was, Philip had always known when to wait and when to act. Some might say he had been overcautious, but wise men knew that he was invariably right.

Therefore, when John reached Rouen he was met by placatory messengers from Philip who informed him that the King of France had urged the Lusignans to end their rebellion until he and the King of England had met and come to some agreement.

Puffed up with pride after his recent triumphant skirmish with the barons John mistakenly believed that Philip was afraid of him and agreed to meet the French King at Les Andelys.

When the meeting took place Philip was gracious and invited John and his beautiful bride to Paris.


How Isabella revelled in the luxury of the Court of France. Philip was very courteous and determined to make them accept his friendship.

‘You must have the best of all lodgings,’ said Philip. ‘Yes, I will hear of nothing else. My brother John and his beautiful bride shall have my royal palace and I with my Court will move to one of my other residences.’

This delighted John. He was eager to show Isabella off to his rival, who professed himself enchanted by her charms. The Queen of France – of whom Philip was deeply enamoured since he was braving the wrath of the Pope for keeping her – seemed to John a poor creature in comparison with Isabella, though without that bright star she was fair enough.

Isabella, basking in the admiration of the French, seeing new sights every day, leading a life of complete excitement, ceased to think of Hugh the Brown, only to remember now and then how dull life would have been had she married him.

She loved Paris with its grand buildings, its river, its people who were not unlike those of her native Angoulême. There were banquets in the palace almost every day; and she danced and sang to the applause of all concerned.

The King of France flattered her and complimented John on acquiring such a beautiful bride. John preened himself and laughingly told how he had duped the Lusignans and having seen her in the forest had determined to marry her.

‘’Tis clear,’ said the King of France, ‘that you have not been disappointed.’

‘I never knew a woman capable of such skills,’ John told him. ‘Young as she is … and a virgin when I married her … yet she is as well versed in the art as an experienced whore – but with a fresh innocence, if you understand.’

‘We all understand,’ replied the King of France, ‘that it must need exceptional skill to keep you abed till midday.’

John laughed aloud.

‘So they are talking of that, are they?’

‘It reached my ears,’ said Philip.

‘Why not? I know of no better way to spend the time.’

Philip nodded and he thought: How long will you hold your possessions, John? I’ll prophesy not many years. Then you will learn, brother, that a king must have other ways of spending his time than in his bed.

Philip was delighted. He could see his goal nearer every day.

At the table he talked to John of serious matters. Isabella was there and John was conscious of little else, holding her hand one moment, stroking the soft fair flesh … flashing messages to her with his eyes to which she responded in a langourous manner.

Good, thought the King of France. I’ll have it all my way. He’ll not care as long as he can go to bed with his wife.

‘’Tis a mistake,’ he said, ‘to go into battle against the Lusignans. Unnecessary wars should be avoided.’

John nodded sleepily. He said: ‘They have risen against me.’

‘With reason,’ said Philip. ‘You could hardly expect them to remain passive when such a prize was snatched from them.’

John laughed. ‘Such a prize would be wasted on Hugh the Brown.’

‘That may well be,’ said Philip. ‘Why should you not submit the Lusignans to trial? They have stirred up rebellion. They have opened up their quarrel with Angoulême. Ralph has made trouble in Normandy. Bring them to trial for forgetting their oaths of allegiance to you and causing trouble which could have resulted in war.’

John hated to be told what he was to do. He was capable of ruling without Philip’s help and he’d have him know it. But to go to war was not what he wanted. It would mean Isabella wouldn’t be able to accompany him. That was unthinkable.

So he would agree with Philip; and when he had the Lusignans on trial he would see that they were found guilty of treason and he would sentence them to prove their innocence by fighting in a duel with opponents who should be chosen for them. This was a perfectly legal method of settling disputes. It was believed that if a man was innocent, God was on his side. If he were guilty, then he would be defeated because God would be on his opponent’s side. John kept a company of expert duellists who had never been defeated and if he wanted to rid himself of an enemy he contrived to sentence him to one of these duels knowing that it was invariably a good way of getting rid of him, for however skilled he was with a sword it seemed hardly likely that he could do better than a man who had spent all his time practising the art in the King’s cause.