The Bastard King (7 page)

What had his father said? ‘If you fear look straight into the face of your fear. Then perhaps you will be less afraid.'

That was all he could do now.

For several seconds the man and the child looked into each other's faces; it was the man who dropped his eyes. He turned away, muttering to himself: ‘A curse on you. You and yours will destroy my house.' He was clearly afraid to look into William's face.

Thorold was astounded.

‘What happened to you?' he said.

‘I merely looked at him and, Thorold, I was not afraid. It was he who feared me.'

It was astounding. It was like a miracle. What power had this child to subdue such a man?

When Arlette heard an account of what had happened, she said: ‘It was the innocent goodness of the child against the wickedness of the man. It is a sign. Once before I had a sign when I dreamed that a great tree came from my body and covered the whole of Normandy and beyond. This is another sign. My son will soon be proclaimed a Duke of Normandy and he will be the greatest Duke that Normandy ever knew.'

Duke Robert sent for his son and when William arrived he drew him to the stone window-seat which was cut out of the thick wall of the castle, and putting his arm around him bade him look down on the land.

‘Normandy,' said Robert. ‘Our land, my son. Our dear, dear land.'

‘Yes, Father.'

‘You are nearly seven years old, William, but as I have told you before, you are old for your years. You are as advanced as any boy of ten in my dominions.'

William glowed with pride and his father went on: ‘This pleases me, for I have something of great importance to say to you. I am going on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land.'

‘Shall I go with you?' asked William seeing himself smiting the Saracens, planting the Christian cross on lands where it had never been before.

‘Nay, William. You will stay here and guard your mother and Normandy.'

‘Can I do that?'

‘You will do it because before I go I am going to name you my successor. You will be a Duke of Normandy and the knights and barons will swear fealty to you.'

‘Would they do this?'

‘They would do it if I commanded them.'

‘Perhaps they would say I was over young.'

‘They may say what they will as long as they obey.'

‘Father, what must I do to be a Duke?'

‘You must learn your lessons; you must become strong, ready to be a leader of men.'

‘It seems no different from what I do now.'

‘First you must be educated; you must learn with a new zest.'

‘So it is to be still learning.'

‘I want you to understand the importance of this. I shall be far away. I had promised myself that I would be here to watch over your upbringing, but it cannot be. Now, my son, you will understand that a boy of seven cannot alone govern a great domain. My good friend, Alain of Brittany, will be Regent in your absence.'

‘
My
absence, Father?'

‘You are to finish your education at the French Court and have as your guardian none other than the King.'

William was filled with dismay. ‘Do you mean I am going away?'

‘Only for the time that I am on my pilgrimage.'

‘What of my mother?'

‘She will be safe and happy here.'

‘Safe and happy. Without you . . . without me.'

Robert smiled. How could he tell this boy how he feared for
his
safety when he was not there to protect him. How could he tell Arlette that his journey was a dangerous one and it might well be that he would never come back to them?

He feared for them both; but his guilt was greater than his fear. He could not rest until he had expiated his sin and the only way he could do this was through this pilgrimage.

He would make every possible arrangement for his loved ones. He trusted Henry of France. Had he not been responsible for placing him back on the throne? Henry must needs respect his vows of friendship; he must have gratitude for the one who had been of such great use to him. He would care for the boy; he would recognize him as Duke; William would be safer at the Court of France than anywhere else in the world.

As for Arlette he had plans for her. She would need a man to care for her and he had already instructed Herlwin of Conteville, one of his most trusted knights, to marry her and care for her for the rest of her life if death should overtake him.

‘Tomorrow we shall leave for Rouen and there the knights and barons will swear fealty to you. They will give their solemn oaths that they will accept you as their Duke. When this is done I shall go away content that all is well.'

To ride to Rouen beside his father, to see lying before him that great city of Normandy – this was an experience he would never forget.

There flowed the River Seine, silver in sunlight. The city was like an enormous castle shut in by its walls and the moat, its spires and roofs dominated by the square tower of the Cathedral and the keep-like edifice known as Rollo's Tower.

The Castle itself was bigger than that of Falaise and this was their destination. Never had he felt so proud as he did riding into Rouen with his father. The people came out of their cottages to see him pass and raise a cheer for him.

The Duke smiled his approval.

‘Look, William,' he said, ‘the people love you already. Always must a ruler cherish the love of his people.'

William was thinking: To go away, far from my mother, far from home. To the French Court. He tried to remember what the French King had looked like when he had ridden out to do battle for his throne; he could remember nothing of him. He thought: I shall have to leave my dogs, my horses, my falcon. I want to stay here.

He could have wept, but how could a Norman weep, especially one who had been told he had no time to dally in childhood?

His mother was subdued and sad; she did not wish his father to go to the Holy Land and her son to go to France.

In the great hall the knights and barons were assembled. His father led him to the throne which he alone used and bade him sit upon it.

Robert then addressed the assembly.

‘Behold your Duke.'

There was a silence that seemed to go on for a long time. Then there broke out a murmuring. William's sharp ears caught the whisper: ‘Bastard.'

It was like a dream such as those he had had of Domfront Castle and almost as frightening. He had noticed since he had come to Rouen that people looked at him strangely. They whispered and stopped when he approached. ‘He is young.' they said, ‘and a bastard.'

His cousin Guy, boasting of his legitimacy, had used the word as though it were something unpleasant; and now he had discovered that he was one.

His father's face was angry suddenly and when he looked so he had the power to silence any of his vassals; they were quiet as he explained that he was going on a pilgrimage and that he
was leaving them their Duke – his own son William. He might have seen but seven winters but from this moment he was their Duke and they were all to swear fealty to him.

Again there arose that titter and once more William heard the ominous whisper: ‘Bastard.'

‘He is my son.' The words were like a clap of thunder. There stood Robert the Magnificent, Robert the Devil; and his words were a warning. ‘It is my will that you accept this boy. He is my chosen successor. Bastard he may be, but he is mine. You will all swear fealty to him.'

Another silence then someone – it was Osbern de Crépon – cried: ‘Long live Duke William.'

He stood before the altar in the great Cathedral while Archbishop Mauger, sterner than ever he was in the schoolroom, demanded of him: ‘William, will you in the name of God and the people of Normandy be a good and true ruler and guard your people from their enemies? Will you maintain truth, punish evil and protect the Holy Church?'

‘I will,' said William. ‘So help me God.'

‘Kiss the gospel book,' whispered the Archbishop, and this he did.

Two bishops then came forward and put about his shoulders the ducal cloak of red velvet edged with ermine. It was so heavy it was difficult for him to support it. A golden coronet was placed on his head. It was so big that it fell over his brow; a sword was placed in his hands and thus encumbered he must make his way to the throne.

Seated there, weighed down by these heavy accoutrements he received the oaths of allegiance from the knights and barons.

‘Sire, I proclaim myself your vassal in word and deed. I swear loyalty to you and to preserve your laws as far as therein lies my power,' pronounced each of them in turn.

Robert looked on triumphantly while this was done and never before had he so delighted in his son.

Thus William became Duke of Normandy; and a few days after the ceremony Robert left with his son for Paris.

FOR THE FIRST
weeks at the Court of France William believed he would never cease to mourn for the past. His father had taken a tender farewell of him – and how different he looked in the garb of a pilgrim! Not Robert the Magnificent at all. The King of France was kind; he had sworn to Robert that he would care for William as he would his own son; but William, recently a Duke who had received the oath of fealty from his vassals, found it hard to accept the fact that he was a vassal of the King of France.

Before he left, his father spoke seriously to him. It had emerged that William was possessed of a hot temper. He would scarcely have been his father's son if he was not. But he must curb it. He must share his possessions. It had also been noted that there was a certain avaricious streak in his nature. All Norman failings. Duke Robert was condemning them now because his mind was occupied with spiritual matters. At one time he would have thought it not such a bad thing that a leader could grow suddenly fierce and that he should regard his possessions with some affection.

Avarice had brought him to this pass. Had he not coveted his brother's dukedom? If he had been content to take second place he would not be setting off on a pilgrimage now.

The King of France talked to William on the day his father left and told him that at his Court he would be instructed in the art of chivalry; he would hunt with his falcon; he would have his dogs and horses and he, the King of France, would do all in his power for the son of a man who had befriended him in his hour of need.

So Robert could ride away with a good conscience but William was sick with longing for his home. As a good Norman he must not show his grief but it was there none the less.

There were boys of noble birth to share his games and lessons, but they were French not Norman. Smaller in stature than the Norse giants, William despised them; he found their habits mincing; they ate their meat more daintily than he had
been brought up to, and it was soon clear that he was not one of them.

The manner of his instruction was different from that he had received from Osbern de Crépon and his squires in Normandy. The French did not speak their minds with the frankness to which William was accustomed. Knightly instruction, which in Normandy was a matter of martial skill and chivalric behaviour, was in France a part of the religious training.

William, brought up to speak his mind, was scathing in his comments on this.

‘Why,' he said, ‘you French make monks of your chevaliers. In Normandy ours are warriors.'

The French page with the silky curls who liked to wear rings on his fingers laughed sneeringly. ‘But do we not all know that Normandy is a land of pirates?' he asked of his companions.

William's hot temper was immediately evident. This pretty French boy was sneering at his ancestors! Great Rollo, William Longsword, Richard the Fearless would have quickly shown the Franks who were their masters.

‘Rollo sailed up the Seine,' he cried. ‘Rollo ravaged the land.'

‘Pirates,' chanted the boys forming a circle round William.

The young Duke could not contain himself. He struck out right and left. Two of the pages fell to the ground; two more attempted to fell William, but without success. He would show them that one Norman was a match for four Frenchmen. Blood spurted from the nose of one of them. The other began to scream for the guards.

‘The Norman has gone mad,' he cried.

William was seized by two men-at-arms.

‘What's this, little savage?'

‘I'll not have them speak ill of Normandy and Normans.'

The guards laughed. ‘He has the devil's own temper, this one. It's time he was put in chains and left there till he forgets his rough ways and learns good French manners.'

‘Let me go,' screamed William, his face scarlet with passion. ‘How dare you molest the Duke of Normandy!'

Such a clamour did he make, and so uncertain were the guards and the priests who had heard the clamour, as to what should be done to a young Duke whose father had left him in the King's care, that they decided there was nothing to do but to take him before the King himself.

Henry listened gravely to what had happened.

‘You will have to forget your rough ways while you are at our Court,' he told William. ‘You are to be instructed in the art of chivalry. That does not include indulging in brawls with those who are learning with you.'

‘They insulted Normandy,' declared William. ‘Would you stand aside if any insulted France?'

The King silently studied the boy. He was too precocious, he decided. He had been forced up too quickly. He was a fire boy, but too ready with his fists and his tongue.

‘You will have a care how you address your suzerain,' he said. ‘Methinks that because certain honours have been thrust upon you, you have grown beyond your stature.' Henry softened. He liked the boy. ‘Now, William, your father has told me to curb your temper. He has asked me to punish you when you so deserve it. You deserve it now and I am going to punish you in a manner which I think will hurt you most. You will not ride for a week. You will remain for that time in your own chamber; you will not see your dogs or your falcons. Two of the priests will be with you and you will study during that time. Now go away and when you feel inclined to lose your temper next time, remember what it has cost you.'