Crusade

‘That’s not the half of it. The fact that Robert had married Sybilla, complete with a dowry sufficient to buy back his inheritance, and with the likelihood that she was already carrying Robert’s heir in her belly, didn’t just threaten his future plans, it ruined them.’

‘So, he came to do a deal with Rufus, before Robert returned?’

‘That’s what everybody assumed, but Henry’s scheme is far more devilish than that.’

I began to realize the diabolical level to which Henry had sunk, even before Sweyn had finished his account.

‘Henry was there when Rufus was killed. They were in a deep part of the New Forest, where Rufus had seen a stag he wanted as a trophy. There were several others with him, including Walter Tirel of Tonbridge and Lord of Poix, whose father fought at Senlac Ridge. He is married to Adelize, the daughter of Richard Fitz Gilbert, whose dislike for Rufus is well known. It is said that Tirel shot the arrow that killed Rufus, but that it was an accident. Tirel’s arrow hit Rufus square in the chest and ruptured his heart. He died almost immediately. Realizing what he’d done, Tirel fled, apparently bound for Normandy.’

‘Could it have been an accident?’

‘It’s possible, but few believe it. Tirel is apparently one of the finest shots in England. Those who know him say that he is too good a huntsman to loose an arrow accidentally and that if he shot Rufus through the heart, he meant to do it.’

‘I suppose an accidental arrow would have found a less deliberate target than a man’s heart. When did this happen?’

‘Three days ago. Henry had Rufus buried in great haste and without ceremony in Winchester the next morning.’

‘And where is Henry now?’

‘Here, in London.’

‘Already?’

‘He didn’t even attend his brother’s interment. He left it to the monks of St Swithun’s of Winchester and hurried to the King’s treasury, where he bullied William of Breteuil into giving him possession. At first, Breteuil refused, but Henry drew his sword and threatened to cut him down. He then rode day and night to reach London, where he secured the King’s other treasury at Westminster. He’s been behind closed doors with his supporters ever since, all of whom, by another unlikely coincidence, happen to be in London.’

‘And they are?’

‘Henry and Robert of Beaumont, Walter Giffard, Robert Malet, Roger Bigot, Robert Fitz Haimo, Robert of Montfort and a couple of others whose names I can’t remember.’

‘A powerful bunch! Are there opponents?’

‘Some, but Henry’s moving too fast for them to get organized. Many would be loyal to Robert, especially after his leadership in the Holy Land, but they are scattered all over England.’

‘Yes, but Henry’s not King yet; there is the small matter of a coronation.’

‘He’s ahead of you, I’m afraid; he is to be crowned tomorrow. He brought the crown with him from Winchester.’

I had witnessed many shameful things and seen many examples of the dark side of human nature, but this was a tale of avarice that took the breath away.

‘But tomorrow is the Sabbath, and Anselm of Canterbury is in exile in Normandy. Don’t tell me that Thomas of York is already in London and prepared to crown a king on a Sunday?’

‘No, Maurice, Bishop of London, is going to preside.’

‘Can he do that?’

‘It seems so.’

‘I feel so sad for Robert. While he’s been fighting in Palestine, his brothers have been living off the fat of the land in England and Normandy, and now Henry has killed his own brother to grab the English crown. He will surely want Normandy next.’

‘Can’t we intervene somehow?’

I felt the same as Sweyn; with Robert weeks, or even months, away from Normandy and England, there had to be something we could do to further his cause or protect his duchy. But what? After sending a messenger to Hugh Percy in Normandy, telling him to get the news of Rufus’s death to Robert with all speed, Sweyn and I opened a flask of mead and began plotting.

If we were to do anything, we had to make our move that very night.

By mid-evening, we had concocted a story that was at least as audacious as some of the battleplans we had employed in the Holy Land, and no less risky. It also meant taking a significant liberty in our friendship with Robert, but all the same, we thought the subterfuge was in a good cause — not only his, but also England’s and what the Brotherhood had fought for at Ely. Although we were only two members of our Brethren, we decided to act in its name and do as we thought they would do.

So, with not a little trepidation, we approached the Great Hall of Westminster, where we assumed Henry would be, and asked the sentries to summon their captain.

‘Captain, please tell your lord that Prince Edgar of England is here to see him.’

As he opened the great door to take in our request, we could hear the distinct sounds of feasting, with much raucous laughter, before the heavy oak planks slammed shut again, leaving us to stare at a magnificent building, on a par in scale and style with any in Europe and only recently completed by Rufus as a symbol of the power of his realm.