Free Joanna by Roberta Gellis Page A

sneered. “When I had none but my own household guard, they deserted me rather than sail for Normandy, but when I had a good mercenary army readied to subdue Ireland, then they rushed to my support.” He laughed without mirth. “Many came who were not even summoned. And the same was true when I marched north to tame Scotland.”
    Peter des Roches did not contradict the king, although he was no fool. The barons had refused to sail for Normandy because an aroused Philip of France in control of every stronghold in the province was waiting to cut them to pieces. No one had refused the king’s summons to Ireland because, by 1209, William, earl of Pembroke had been fighting there for two years already and the country was nearly beaten into submission. When King John arrived with his army, he had little to do beside march the massive   force up and down and accept the Irish lords’ capitulation.
    The Scottish success was of a different order. William of Scotland was a tired man. Whether he had summoned one last spurt of energy in the hope of smoothing the path to the Scottish throne for his young son, Alexander, or whether he had been pushed into the war by his aggressive barons, Winchester could not guess. The end result had been that Salisbury had trapped the Scottish army and John had been able to impose humiliating terms of defeatwithout ever coming to battle at all. The cooperation of the English barons in the Scottish war had nothing to do with the king’s ability to buy mercenaries. It needed no effort to convince any English baron that subduing the Scots was to his benefit. Naturally, even the northerners, who were the most rebellious against John, would agree with him on that subject and would be most enthusiastic about such a campaign.
    Essentially, the same was true of this coming Welsh campaign. Without making reference to the past, Winchester said, “I do not think you need to doubt the willingness of your barons to support you against the Welsh. I do not mean to speak against their loyalty, but, my lord, it is in their interest to serve you in this matter.”
    “Except those tied in love to the Welsh devil,” the king snarled softly.
    Winchester did not bother to remind John that only a year ago he had been calling Llewelyn his “dearest son” and the “Welsh devil” had been married to John’s natural daughter Joan since 1204. Instead, he said, “Who? Oh, you mean de Vipont. I know you do not love him, but”
    “He has fled away to Ireland so that he need not answer my summons.”
    “Now there, my lord, you are wrong. I have a great value for Ian de Vipont, and I know what he intends because I went to the betrothal of his daughter to your nephew. We spoke of the matter. His levy will be thereevery manand young Geoffrey will lead them.” Winchester knew the king well, but he did not understand the expression that flicked across his face. Before he could ask a question that   would clarify John’s thoughts, however, there was an interruption from Isabella.
    “That puling bastard,” she exclaimed, “he”
    “No, no, my love,” the king interrupted smoothly. “Geoffrey is a very brave and capable young man. I have told you many times that his birth is nothing against him. But he is young. It is a heavy responsibility for him.”
    “I suppose it is your brother Salisbury who will carry the load really,” Winchester remarked neutrally.
    “Oh no,” the king said softly, smiling, “I am sure Geoffrey will lead his own men and de Vipont’s too.”
    The discussion was making Winchester uneasy. The king had always seemed indifferent to or even slightly to favor his brother’s bastard son, but there was nothing in his face or eyes now and, coupled with the caressing tone, that was a dangerous sign. Salisbury was dotingly fond of his bastard, and Salisbury was the mainstay of the kingdom. Winchester was not in the least sure that Salisbury would remain faithful if anything should happen to Geoffrey