Philippa had understood this so clearly when she had brought the weavers to England; then there had been established between the two countries a great friendship which was now standing him in good stead.

‘Ah,’ said Philippa, ‘if it were not for the state of war, how prosperous all our countries would be.’

She was sad as she reflected on Edward’s absorption in this battle for a crown.

She had always thought how much better it would be to have a prosperous England than an England at war; and even if there was success for Edward and he won the crown of France he would only gain a country devastated by war.

But what could a woman do? Nobody would listen to her and they would dismiss her beliefs as woman’s thinking. Yet if they had stopped to think they would have to admit she was wiser than they were.


* * *

When Prince Edward and his sister Isabella had been left in England they had both been disappointed. It was unfair, Isabella said, that Joanna should go with them. ‘She is younger than I,’ grumbled Isabella. ‘Why should she go and I remain behind?’

Edward pointed out that Joanna had gone for a reason. She was to be left at her future husband’s court. Poor Joanna had not been very happy about that.

Isabella certainly had no wish to leave her parents. Her father made too much fuss of her and secretly she delighted in the fact that she was his favourite.

Edward looked at her with tolerance. He himself was growing very tall and handsome. He was only ten years old but his attendants said that he looked all of sixteen and they had seen many women glance his way with approving and hopeful looks in their eyes.

Edward was unaware of them. He was interested in horses and he was very skilful in sword play. It was said that he would be a commander like his father and great grandfather and the King and the country should be very proud to have such a promising heir to the throne.

The Prince already was aware of his responsibilities. He was now Earl of Chester and Duke of Cornwall and since his father had left for France he had been appointed Guardian of the Kingdom. He was naturally too young for this to be anything but a title but it did mean that he was forced to attend meetings and although all he had to do was sit and listen, people turned to him with great respect and he must appear to give his consent to certain measures which really meant doing what he was told.

It was however good preparation for what would one day come to him. Nor were his studies neglected. Dr Walter Burley of Merton College, Oxford was his tutor and no easy taskmaster. A prince had great responsibilities, he was told, and he must not shirk them.

Not that he had ever shirked his duty. He had a great desire to excel. He had heard whispers of his grandfather’s infamous life and unfortunate end and it was his duty to make sure that he did not inherit the weakness that had appeared in that sad King.

There seemed little likelihood of that.

He was in the palace of the Tower when Dr Burley sent for him to give him some news.

‘My lord,’ said the Doctor, ‘I have had instructions from the King regarding you, and you must now prepare yourself for a journey.’

‘I am going to join my father?’ asked the Prince eagerly. The Doctor nodded.

‘When?’

‘As soon as your journey can be arranged.’

‘That means at once. For rest assured I shall not delay.’

‘You should know that the King is anxious to celebrate your betrothal.’

‘I am to have a wife?’

‘The marriage is necessary to the King’s plans. He is eager to strengthen his alliances on the Continent and is arranging a marriage between you and Margaret, the daughter of the Duke of Brabant.’

Edward was taken aback. He had wanted to go into battle, not matrimony.

‘Am I to be married at once?’

‘No, no. But the King needs these alliances.’

The Prince was thoughtful. Well, it was what happened to members of royal families. Their spouses were chosen for them and they must needs accept them. He wondered what this Margaret was like. At least when he married he would not have to leave his home and family as poor little Joanna had.

‘The marriage would not be consummated immediately,’ said the doctor.

The Prince understood. There would be some ceremony and he would go on just as before. He could shrug the thought of marriage aside.

‘I hope,’ he said, ‘that my father does not finish the war before I arrive.’

‘I doubt you will be allowed to join in battles, my lord.’

‘Do you think the war will be over before I am old enough to join in?’

The Doctor did not answer. He believed that this war would go on and on for many years. The King of France against the King of England and the battle fought on French soil l It was slow in starting, so perhaps both sides were realizing what a difficult task faced them. Philip’s was the easier. He was defending his homeland.

The Doctor in his sagacity thought that it was a pity Edward had ever embarked on such an undertaking. He lacked the means; he was in constant need of money; moreover there would certainly be trouble on the Scottish border if ever he became too involved on the Continent.

But the Doctor’s talents lay not in war; it was his mission to educate the young heir to the throne. And he was not displeased with his job. Edward was showing signs of becoming a credit to him.

Edward left him and immediately began his preparations. Isabella had heard the news and she came into his apartments. It was typical of Isabella that she came unannounced, always presuming that everyone would be delighted to see her. Now her eyes were blazing, her cheeks scarlet.

‘They say you are going to France,’ she cried.

‘It’s true,’ said Edward. ‘I shall leave perhaps tomorrow.’ ‘And I am to stay here.’

‘That is what I have heard.’

She stamped her foot. ‘It’s not fair. Why should I be left behind? Edward, take me with you.’

She flung herself at him and clung to him, but he coolly set her aside. ‘How can I take you? There were no orders that you should come.’

‘Our father promised ... he promised. He said when he left that he would take me one day.’

‘That day has not yet come.’

‘Oh, it is cruel. I hate it here.’

‘You know very well you do not hate it. Lady St Omer is very kind to you and takes good care of you.’

‘I want to go to France,’ sobbed Isabella.

The Prince turned away impatiently. He had no time to dally with his spoilt sister.

He left the next day watched by a sullen-eyed Isabella, but he was too excited at the prospect to think much about her. The crossing was good and it was a thrilling moment when he stepped ashore. He deplored his youth; he longed to be old enough to prove himself as a soldier. But it was a good sign that his father had sent for him.

He was as delighted to see his mother again as she was to see him. She embraced him and was almost overcome by her emotion. Philippa rarely gave way to her feelings but on this occasion at the sight of this handsome first-born she was so deeply moved.

How he had grown! He was quite a man. He was so like his father with his light-coloured hair, his high cheek bones, his aquiline nose which was just a little blunted at the tip—so like his father’s—and those all-seeing blue eyes. He was a son any mother could be proud of. He was all that a future King should be.

She was glad she had called him Edward.

‘You grow more and more like your father,’ she told him.

The King was delighted too. Such a son was enough to warm any father’s heart. Little Lionel too was becoming stronger every day and growing fast. His nurses said that they had never seen a baby grow as Lionel did ... even Edward had not been so big.

If only he could have been as happy with the progress of the war as he was with his family, Edward would have been a very contented man.

Young Edward was very anxious to hear about the progress of the war and his father saw that he was wondering why it had not yet been won and the Kinc, of England was not also the King of France.

‘My dear son,’ he said, ‘you have much to learn. Wars are not easily won. When I was your age I thought the same. I became King too young and I went to Scotland where I learned a bitter lesson. Wars swallow up money. Soldiers have to be paid, arms have to be found, friendship has to be bought.’

I did not think friendship would be true friendship if it depended on gifts,’ said the Prince.

‘I see the good Doctor teaches you wisdom. I have to buy allies, Edward. I call them friends but as you so rightly point out they are not truly my friends and they could be my enemies if someone came along with a better proposition. Now, Edward, you are here in Brabant to be seen by the Duke. He will decide then whether you are a fitting bridegroom for his daughter.’

‘Is the Duke one of these friends who have to be bought?’ ‘I need his help, Edward. This is a mighty task.’

‘Do you need the French crown so badly, Father?’ ‘I need not to be deprived of my rights.’

The Prince saw the point of that.

‘We will take it. I long to fight beside you.’

‘One day, my son. One day.’

The Prince was not very sure that he liked being inspected as a future bridegroom. He did not see Margaret. That would come later. So much depended on the war. If Edward had had a few successes every prince in the neighbourhood would be eager to be his friend. What he needed was success. But first of all he must have money.