The Heart of the Lion by Jean Plaidy Read Free Book Online Page B

was able to leave for Normandy on his way to see the King of France to make their final preparations.

    It was January before the two Kings met at Gué St Rémi. It was an emotional meeting. Once there had been great amity between them. That had been at the time when Richard was at odds with his father and had been so angry and wounded because Henry had wanted to set him aside for the sake of John. Philip had been there to comfort him. He had sworn allegiance to Philip; he had been his constant companion; hunted with him, talked with him and shared his bed. There could be no greater intimacy and everyone had marvelled at the friendship between the King of France and the son of the King of England, none more than Henry the King of England who had been considerably discountenanced by it.
    They had been happy days when they had been together, the more exciting perhaps because each had known they could not go on and were a little uncertain how deep their feelings for each other went.
    Philip must ask himself: How much of this friendship is love for me, how much hatred of his father? How much the desire for my company, how much the knowledge that I more than anyone can help him make a stand against his father?
    And Richard: This love for me, how much friendship is there in it, how much the need to flout my father, to mock him by keeping his son at his court?
    How eager was the King of France to outwit the King of England? How could they be sure of each other? Yet it was there, the love which had flared up between them.
    As King of England Richard could now meet Philip as an equal on one ground, but he still owed him allegiance as the Duke of Normandy.
    Philip embraced Richard. ‘Welcome, my brother. It does my heart good to see you.’
    Richard was less fulsome but the coldness had left his eyes and they glowed with an unusual warmth.
    ‘So you are now King of England. Our fears were groundless.’
    All noted how the King of France would have no ceremony with the King of England. He slipped his arm through his and they walked together. It was said: They will live in amity as they did before. This augurs well for the crusade.
    Philip took Richard into his camp that they might talk intimately together. Philip had aged a little. He was ten years younger than Richard but often appeared to be the more mature. He was more of a realist, completely lacking Richard’s idealism.
    How like the old days it was! Philip lying back on his bunk, his head supported on his folded arms and Richard seated before him.
    ‘You are as handsome as you ever were,’ said Philip. ‘Though a little drawn. Are you in good health, my friend?’
    ‘I have had attacks of the quartan fever.’
    ‘So you still suffer from that malady? How do you think you will fare in the hot climate?’
    ‘That I shall discover.’
    ‘Richard, do you think your health will permit you to go?’
    Richard laughed aloud. ‘Nothing will prevent me.’
    ‘Ah indeed, it seems strange to talk of weakness to you. You were ever the one who rode the fastest, played the most skilful game. You should have taken greater care of your health, for it is sheer carelessness which has made you a victim of this fever.’
    ‘A soldier cannot always sleep in a warm dry bed, brother.’
    ‘Nay, alas. Ah, but you are as strong as ever, I doubt not. You will overcome this fever . . . Do you realise that a dream of our youth is about to come true? Remember, Richard, how we would lie in my bed and plan our journey to the Holy Land . . . together. It had to be together. Otherwise it would have lost its pleasure for us both.’
    ‘I remember it well. I was always determined that it should come about.’
    ‘And now you have a kingdom to govern!’
    ‘You also.’
    ‘Two Kings who will leave their kingdoms for a dream! Together we must go, for if we did not . . .’ Philip laughed slyly . . . ‘How could the King of England go if the King of France did not go also?’
    ‘Indeed! How could the