Money, money, money! It was the crying need. So much to be spent, so many bribes to be given, so much lavish entertaining.

The Prince wondered if this was the way to win a war.

He found himself riding side by side with a very handsome man some ten years his senior. There was something honest about him and the Prince at this time, brooding on what his father had said about bribing for friendship, was deeply concerned with honesty.

The young man asked him how he liked being out of England and Edward replied that it was good to be where important events were going to happen.

They chatted awhile of trivial matters and then Edward asked the young man what he thought about the delay in fighting. Did it seem to him that there was a certain reluctance on both sides?

The young man was thoughtful. It did seem so. There had been so much talk of war that it was certainly strange that no battle should have taken place. He thought that it was due to lack of money. He had been present he said at the banquet when Robert of Artois had produced the roasted heron. Perhaps the King had made his vow before he was ready to fight.

Then they talked about the claims of the King through his mother and how Philip was not really in the direct line.

Edward found it most interesting and very much enjoyed the company of the young man.

He asked his name.

‘It is John Chandos,’ he was told.

‘Well, John Chandos,’ he said, ‘I hope we shall ride together again.’

John Chandos said he was at the Prince’s disposal and as the days passed the Prince saw more of John Chandos, and when he deplored the fact that he was so young and therefore would not be allowed to join in the battle, John pointed out that there were always compensations in every situation. Just imagine,’ he said, ‘if you were four or five years older they would be marrying you to Margaret of Brabant.’

‘And I am not at all sure that I want to marry her, John.’

‘That is what I mean. So be thankful that you cannot just yet.’

The Prince laughed. And his friendship with John Chandos grew.

Philippa noticed it and was pleased. It was good for Edward to make friends and although Sir John Chandos was not of the most noble birth, he was of good family and an honourable man who had given the King good service. One of his sisters, Elizabeth, had been maid of honour to Philippa at one time. She had liked the woman, just as she liked her brother.

John Chandos could teach Edward a good deal.

Philippa was deeply concerned with other matters. Edward had said that he thought he would have to go to England to raise some money.

She sighed. Money could be spent in so many better ways than in war. She was very sorry that Edward had ever thought of laying claim to the throne of France. If he had not they might all be together in England.

She thought constantly of her family. She worried about Joapna and Isabella. If only they could return to England whdre they belonged and settle down to live in peace.

She had a fancy that she might be pregnant again.


* * *

Joanna was desperately unhappy. Because her aunt Margaret looked a little like her mother she had expected her to act like her. When her father had ridden away the little girl had burst into tears and continued to sob bitterly.

Her aunt looked at her with some distaste and said rather sharply: ‘Now, child, you are not a baby you know. What are You making that noise for?’

Joanna stopped crying to look at the Empress in astonishment.

‘I want my father,’ she said, ‘and my mother.’

The Empress turned away impatiently. ‘Pray make the child wash her face,’ she said. ‘The sight is offensive.’

Joanna was astounded. She had thought her aunt would understand. She had been so kind when her father was there and she had told him how generous he was to have given her such lovely jewels.

‘You can trust me to look after your daughter,’ she had said.

And now she could not understand how miserable Joanna was. Surely she knew that there was never a father in the world like hers, nor a mother like her sister Philippa? And was it not reasonable to suppose that any daughter who had lost them would be miserable?

It was a sad realization that all might not be as she thought.

When she next saw her aunt she was composed and it was a ceremonial occasion. The Emperor and the Empress were together before a banquet and Joanna was taken to her because the Empress had wished it. She was all smiles and friendliness. ‘My dear child,’ she said, ‘all, you look well now. It was a sad parting was it not?’ Then to someone at her elbow. ‘The daughter of my sister the Queen of England, is a little sad just now, being parted from her parents, but she will be happy and well with me. Will you not, Joanna?’

Poor Joanna was bewildered. She wondered if she had heard correctly on that other occasion.

Sometimes she rode beside the Empress on her little pony and people smiled at her and seemed as though they were pleased to see her.

Duke Otho was kind and she was presented to Frederic who was to be her husband. She did not greatly care for him.

‘Oh,’ said the Empress being kind now, ‘it will be a long long time before you are old enough to marry.’

‘I hope I never do,’ said Joanna.

‘That,’ replied the Empress coldly, ‘is a very stupid statement.’

She was looking at Joanna with cold dislike again and Joanna felt a great impulse to cry like a baby for her mother.

It was a little bewildering when one was not very old to leave one’s family and go away to strangers, even though it had always been stressed that princesses had to grow up more quickly than other people.

She was thankful to Lord John de Montgomery although she could not confide in him, but he did give her the feeling that she was being looked after.

She had a few attendants and it was comforting to talk to them but she saw that as the weeks passed they were becoming rather uneasy. There was often very little to eat—in fact not enough for the household and she heard the attendants talking together and saying that if Queen Philippa knew how her sister was treating the little Princess she would never forgive her.

After her first show of friendship the Empress rarely came near her niece. In fact she seemed to have forgotten her existence. Joanna was deeply hurt; she had expected very different treatment from her mother’s sister.

Lord John came to see her and he told her that it was no use pretending that she was being treated properly at the Imperial Court and he proposed writing to the King and telling him what was happening to his daughter.

‘I suggest, my lady Princess,’ he said, ‘that you write to your mother.’

Joanna’s eyes were round with terror. ‘What if the letters fell into their hands ?’

She imagined terrible things happening to her, things of which she heard whispers in corners. How traitors were cast into dungeons to live with the rats, how they died ...

Lord John realized then how deeply the child had suffered and a great anger arose in him against the selfish Empress and he thought how different she was from her sister.

He said: ‘Never fear, they shall not fall into their hands, and if they did, no harm could befall the daughter of King Edward of England.’

‘They can give her very little to eat and be unkind to her,’ retorted Joanna with logic.

That was true. Lord John agreed, but if she would write of what had happened to her he would see that the letters fell into no other hands but those of her mother.

To write letters in secret gave a new excitement to life_ and hope too. If her mother knew she would never let her stay in this horrible place.

In due course the letters had the desired effect.

The King of England now wished his daughter to be put into the care of her future father-in-law, Duke Otho of Austria.

The Empress shrugged her shoulders. She had forgotten about the child in any case. The costly gifts which the King had bestowed on her were also forgotten.

‘Let the child go,’ she said.

Life was a little more comfortable for Joanna after that although she was very homesick and longed to be with her mother. Bickering with Isabella now seemed like perfect bliss and she did long to see her brother Edward. She wanted to be lifted up in her father’s arms and put her cheek against his; she wanted to run into her mother’s arms and be held tightly.

Would she never see them again? Lucky Isabella, who although older was still at home!

Duke Otho was a kindly man. He thought his new little daughter charming. He seemed very old to Joanna but perhaps that was because he was ill.

Here of course she saw Frederic almost every day. He was not nearly as handsome as her brother Edward but that would be asking too much. He was an arrogant little boy and he told her that husbands were always the masters and their wives had to obey them.

‘Nobody obeys such little boys,’ replied Joanna, which made Frederic angry.

He was growing up fast. His servants said so. He was going to be seven foot tall and then he would show her.

Joanna’s consolation was that it would be a long time before he was old enough to marry. In the meantime she had to share lessons with him and speak all the time in their hateful tongue.

Frederic’s Uncle Albrecht was frequently at the ducal court. Joanna did not like him at all. He lacked Duke Otho’s kindliness and she fancied he looked at her with a certain amused dislike which was very unpleasant. Everyone was very deferential to him, and he used to come to the schoolroom and sit there listening with that supercilious smile on his lips whenever Joanna spoke.