Plantagenet 1 - The Plantagenet Prelude (32 page)

‘I am a Christian now. My home is across the seas in your London.’

‘Nay,’ he said. ‘Nay, that would never do.’

‘You could take me with you when you go away.’

‘How so?’

‘You could marry me. I could be a good Christian and mother to your sons.’

‘That is not possible. You must not think of such matters.’

‘I cannot help my thoughts. The slaves are planning to escape. You will go with them and, Gilbert, I want to come too.’

‘You could never do it.’

‘Then when you go … must we say goodbye?’

‘If I were to go, we must indeed.’

‘I never would,’ she said firmly. ‘I will come with you. When the slaves band together and go away from here … or try to…. you will go with them, for you think much of your native land and your home is in London. Gilbert, you cannot leave me here because if you did I should die. I could not live without you. You have saved my soul and you must take me with you.’

He shook his head but she would not listen to his protests and he said no more of the matter.

There came a time when the long-formed plans were to be put into effect. Gilbert could arrange for horses to be waiting for them in the stables for several of the Christians were working there. They could cut their chains, and together discard their halters and get away … with Gilbert’s help.

It was dangerous and Gilbert knew that if the attempt failed this would be an end of his pleasant relationship with the Emir. Dire and terrible torments would await them all. But so great was their longing for their native land that there was not a man among them who did not wish to make the attempt.

When he was with Mahault in his sanctuary, Gilbert was tempted to tell her of the plan for she could be of great use to them, but he hesitated. For himself he would have trusted her, but he had the lives of others to consider. He said nothing.

The appointed night came. In the stables the horses were saddled and ready. Gilbert had secreted implements there by which fetters could be cut. None was suspicious, and everything worked so smoothly and according to their plan that Gilbert was certain that God was with them.

Before their escape had been discovered they were miles from the Emir’s palace and had reached a part of the country which was occupied by Christians. They joined with them and were able to proceed on the journey back to England.

When she heard that Gilbert had escaped with the other prisoners, Mahault was overcome with grief. True he had never promised to take her with him, but he had certainly cared for her. Had he not risked death and even more than death to save her soul? Had her father given his permission they would have married. But her father would never have consented to his daughter’s marrying a Christian. How could he?

But she was a Christian, a fervent Christian, and she vowed she would never be anything else. But now she had lost Gilbert and there was nothing in life she wanted but him.

She longed for death, for that paradise which Gilbert had promised her. It was all that she could hope for.

So ill did she become that the Emir could not understand what ailed her. He was angry with the Christians who had escaped. He missed his discussions with Gilbert. Life had become dull without that man. He plunged into an orgy of pleasure, living the sort of life he had lived before the coming of Gilbert, but he found nothing could give him the same pleasure as he had enjoyed in his discussions with the Christian.

As she lay in her bed, an idea came to Mahault.

Gilbert had escaped. Why should not she? She had listened to his talk at table when he had given a graphic account of the journey he had made from London to the Holy Land. If he could make a journey to her country, why should she not do so to his?

As soon as this idea came to her, her health began to improve. She would lie in bed waiting for the return of her strength while she made her plans. She knew that what she was about to do was hazardous in the extreme; it was a task which no other Saracen girl had ever undertaken. But if she died in the attempt it would be no worse than waiting here in her father’s palace until she pined away for lack of any wish to live.

‘Faith can work miracles.’ That had been one of the doctrines of Gilbert’s God who was now hers. Why should not faith work a miracle for her?

She grew well quickly; it was amazing what her faith and her belief in the certainty that she would find Gilbert did for her; and there came the day when she was ready.

She had sewn precious jewels into the humblest garments she could find, for it was not difficult to get these from her servants, and one day she walked out of her father’s palace.

The road was not often frequented between the borders of her father’s territory and that which was occupied by Christians and taking greatest care to hide herself when any pilgrims did pass, in due course she reached the borders of the Christian country.

Good fortune favoured her for as she was crossing those borders she saw a group of people, and something told her from their looks and manners that they were Gilbert’s countrymen and women.

She approached them and again she was lucky for one of them spoke her tongue. She told them the truth. She had become a Christian; she wished to escape to England where she could live according to her faith. But how could she get there?

‘You could take ship,’ she was told.

‘How could I do this?’

‘Ships leave now and then,’ was the answer. ‘We ourselves are awaiting one.’

‘I could pay for my passage,’ she told them.

They considered her. Her great determination to succeed shone from her eyes; she begged them to help her. She must go to London, she said, for there lived a man she must find.

At length they agreed to take her. Her passage would be paid for with a sapphire of great beauty and in the meantime she might join their party.

She was not surprised at such amazing luck. She believed that as she had asked for a miracle God would answer her prayers, and it was only natural that her way should be made easy.

The journey was eventful as such journeys invariably were. They narrowly escaped being taken by pirates - which might well have resulted in her being sold into slavery to her own father - and then there was a mighty storm which almost wrecked the ship.

She believed that her shining faith brought her safely through, and very soon they landed at Dover.

She knew two words in English: London and Gilbert. The first was of great use because it told everyone where she wanted to go.

She walked from the coast to the city, asking her way with the one word London and finally she was rewarded by her glimpse of London.

She would have been bewildered by the great city if she had not been certain that she was nearing the end of her quest. There was clamour such as she had never seen. In the streets were the market stalls, with goods of all variety displayed to the eyes. Everything that could be imagined was on sale there - bread, meat, clothing, milk, butter and cheeses, usually each with its separate neighbourhood. Milk and butter and cheeses were obtainable in Milk Street, and meat was for sale in Saint Martin le Grand near Saint Paul’s Cross. There was Bread Street where the smell of fresh baked bread filled the air. Goldsmiths and silversmiths, clothiers and grocers, they all had their places in these lively streets.

At this time some forty thousand people lived in the city and its environs. People were attracted to the city because of its immense activities and the gayer lives that could be enjoyed there compared with the quiet of the country. There were many churches, built by the Normans, and the sound of bells was a constant one. It was a bustling, teeming city situated on a river full of craft plying their way up and down; and the stream of the Walbrook divided the East Cheap from the West.

Everywhere were beggars - some pitiful to behold - and into these streets came the Emir’s daughter, certain because of her faith in the Christian God that she would be led to find Gilbert.

She went through the streets calling Gilbert and many took pity on her and gave her a night’s shelter; and each day she was sure that she would find the man she had come to seek.

Gilbert had reached London some months earlier. He had resumed his business and as before kept open house for visiting friends. One of these, a Norman knight named Richer de L’Aigle, a man of some culture, owned an estate in the country.

Richer always enjoyed his visits to London, largely because it meant a pleasant evening or two spent with his old friend Gilbert Becket. They would talk into the night and discuss many subjects before Gilbert lighted his old friend to bed with a waxen candle.

Richer had heard of Gilbert’s adventures in the Emir’s palace and was always interested to talk about them. Gilbert’s servant Richard, who had been at his master’s side through all that had happened, had also many a tale to tell of those adventures to his fellow-servants.

When Gilbert was telling Richer more details of how he had made the escape which would have seemed impossible, he added that he believed only Divine help had brought them home.

‘During that perilous journey,’ he said, ‘I made a vow that if I could reach home safely once more I would pay another visit to the Holy Land within ten years.’

‘So you will be going again. Do not expect the same luck next time.’

‘I shall wait for God to show me His will,’ said Gilbert solemnly, ‘and whatever it may be I shall accept it.’

‘Still, perhaps it is tempting Providence when you consider you have done it once and come safely through. Think of all those who are lost on the way.’

They were talking thus when Richard burst in upon them.

‘Master,’ he stammered, ‘I have seen … I have seen …’

‘Come, Richard, what have you seen?’ asked Gilbert.

‘A ghost it appears,’ put in Richer.

‘No, master. I have seen the Emir’s daughter.’

‘What?’ cried Gilbert.

‘I had heard that a strange woman was in the street. She was calling “Gilbert”. Just “Gilbert” again and again. I went to look at her. An apprentice told me she was close by and there she was.’

‘The Emir’s daughter, Richard. You are mistaken.’

‘Nay, master, I was not, for she saw me and she cried aloud with joy, for she knew me. She remembered me in her father’s palace.’

Gilbert had risen to his feet.

‘You must take me to her.’

‘She is here, master. She followed me.’

Gilbert hurried from the room and there standing in his doorway was Mahault. When she saw him she gave a cry of joy and fell on her knees before him.

He lifted her; he looked into her face and he spoke to her in her own tongue which she had not heard for so long.

‘You came … so far.’

‘God guided me,’ she said simply.

‘So … you hoped to find me.’

‘I knew I should, if it were His will and it is.’

Richer de L’Aigle looked on at the scene with amazement as Gilbert called for his servants to prepare hot food. She must be hungry, he said, and she was footsore and weary.

She laughed and wept with happiness. A miracle had brought her across terrifying land and sea to Gilbert.

He considered her. She was beautiful, young and ardent. She loved the Christian faith almost as much as she loved Gilbert. She was a living example of a soul that was saved.

He could not keep her in his house. That was something the proprieties would not allow and Gilbert did not know what he could do with her. There was a good and sober widow who lived close by and for whom he had been able to do some favour. He went to her, told her of his predicament and asked if she would take the strange young woman under her care until something could be settled. This she agreed to do, and Gilbert conducted her to the widow’s house where he told her she must wait awhile.

Gilbert had friends in the Church and he decided to ask the advice of some of its members as to what he could do. There was in London at the time a gathering of the bishops presided over by the Bishop of London, and since the Emir’s daughter was an infidel and would be so until she was baptised, the answer to his predicament could well come from the Church.

Before the bishops, Gilbert related his adventure, and the Bishop of Chichester rose suddenly and spoke as though he were in a dream. He said: ‘It is the hand of God and not of man which has brought this woman from so far a country. She will bear a son whose labours and sanctity will turn to the profit of the Church and the glory of God.’

These were strange words, for Gilbert had not mentioned the thought of marrying her - although it had entered his head. They sounded like a prophecy. Gilbert was then filled with a desire to marry the Emir’s daughter and have a son by her.

‘It would be necessary,’ said the Bishop of London, ‘for her to be baptised. If she agrees to this then you should marry her.’

Gilbert went to Mahault and told her this. Her eyes sparkled with happiness. Most joyfully would she be baptised. She had come to England for this - and to marry Gilbert.

So they were married and very soon she became pregnant. She was certain that she would bear a son who was destined for greatness.