Chapter 34 #3
William spread his hands. “You have my attention.”
For a moment the Prince looked as if he might leave, but he restrained himself, his irritation revealed in the choleric flare of his nostrils. “While my brother is on crusade, he intends to leave his lands in the hands of justiciars fit for the purpose.”
That much was obvious and William said nothing, merely rubbed his chin and waited.
“Some of those men are as good as appointed. Others will buy their way in. Richard has virtually every office in England up for sale.” John flicked William a keen glance.
“William Longchamp will play a leading role. Richard’s made him Bishop of Ely and that means Longchamp’s fingers will be in the fiscal pie.
It’s always the tradition that Ely watches the coffers. ”
William nodded, still wary, but more interested now. “I heard from the Queen that the senior justiciars were likely to be the Earl of Essex and the Bishop of Durham,” he said.
“And if either of them should fail, then who do you think will step into the breach?” Prince John rose to his feet, paced the tent, and turned. “Longchamp will take advantage in any way he can.”
So will you, William thought, eyeing his royal visitor impassively.
The Prince sighed. “I can see you are hostile, Marshal, and I can understand that. You think ill of me because of my father, but I had to make some difficult decisions. If I chose differently to you, that does not mean that you are right and I am wrong.”
“No, my lord,” William said stiffly, knowing that he would never forgive John for abandoning his father on his deathbed. Whatever his reasons, none could be strong enough—not even fear for his own life. The Bible said that love was as strong as death, but that applied to honour too.
The Prince’s gaze hardened. “How would you feel if you were subject to the tyranny of William Longchamp? Which of us would you choose then?”
“My choice is Richard.”
“Who will be gone years at best. I’m not asking you to compromise yourself, just to think.
My bride has vouchsafed me lands throughout the south-west of England.
Your brother has lands there too as well as being granted custody of Marlborough and the shrievalty of York.
With your Giffard manors and the estates of Striguil, you can either add your strength to mine, or oppose me—should we come to trouble…
I am making contingency plans, no more than that. ”
There was always more than that with John, William thought cynically, and yet the Prince did have a point. Once Richard was gone, even if his lands remained stable and well governed, there were bound to be power struggles and every man would have to decide who were his allies and who were not.
“The shrievalty of Gloucester is for sale at a cost of fifty marks,” John said softly. “That means the control of Gloucester Castle and the Forest of Dean. You are in great favour with my brother. He’ll sell it to you willingly.”
“And if I do this and then choose to oppose you?”
John shrugged. “Then you would be mad. My brother is keen to promote the Marshal family, but Longchamp is not. We may not always see eye to eye, but it makes sense for us to do so now.” He rose to his feet and went to the tent flap.
“Think on what I have said. My mother would tell you it’s good advice. ”
‘Perhaps I should consult her then.”
John gave an arid smile. “Do so. She will doubtless warn you against me, but she is no lover of William Longchamp either. She has no time for men who do not see the sunrise in her face. I bid you goodnight. I have my duty, as you have your pleasure.” He lifted a sardonic eyebrow in farewell to Isabelle.
There was a short silence after he had gone.
John Marshal cleared his throat and pushed his hands through his greying hair.
“He’s right. We should look to our own interests.
You should ask Richard to give you Gloucester.
He won’t deny you. Fifty marks is no great sum.
” His tone was brittle and edgy, like a man on the eve of a battle campaign, and it filled William with unease.
“But a price to be paid.” He looked at Isabelle. “What do you think?”
John Marshal blinked, plainly surprised that William should consult his wife.
Isabelle chewed her lip. “I think it would be a good thing to offer for Gloucester,” she said after a moment.
“The more powerful you become, the more choices you have. Prince John is the King’s only adult heir and your overlord for your Irish lands.
You need to tread a careful path, neither leaning too far towards him, but not rejecting his overtures either.
The men with the best sense of balance are going to be the ones who remain intact. ”
John Marshal stared at her with a dropped jaw.
William’s expression was one of pride and admiration.
“I agree,” he said. “I have given my oath to King Richard and I will hold by it until death, but I must protect myself as well.” He looked at his brother.
“As Isabelle says, we must tread carefully. I will not condone any attempt by the Prince to take the crown whilst his brother is gone, but the more land and influence we have as a family, the better protected we are.” He poured himself a cup of wine and swilled his mouth as if to rid himself of the taste of his words.
John Marshal shrugged. “I will do what I must,” he said. “You protect me from Richard if it becomes necessary, and I will do what I can to smooth your path with John…and hope that none of it comes to pass.”
William nodded. “Pray God,” he said.
When his brother had left, William sighed and rubbed his palms over his face. “Jesu, I begin to think I should have stayed in Kendal.”
Isabelle came to him. Picking up his wine from the coffer, she took a drink herself.
“No,” she said. “You would never have warmed your hands at such a small fire. You know that.” She handed him the cup.
“You said to me at Stoke that you were preparing for the storms ahead. This is the first squall and it may well blow over. Whatever happens, you should take Gloucester.”
William drank, set the cup aside, and lay down on the bed, his arms pillowed behind his head. Isabelle leaned over him, unbound her hair again, and let it tumble around them, scented like a distant rose garden.