Free The Heart of the Lion by Jean Plaidy Page B

moment.’
    ‘That’s where you are wrong,’ cried Joanna.
    ‘Nay,’ said Tancred. ‘You will see that I am right.’
    ‘Do you think the Emperor Henry will allow you to snatch the crown from Constancia?’ she demanded.
    ‘Henry is far away. I am on the spot. You are to go back to England and it is in truth no concern of yours.’
    ‘William’s wishes are my concern.’
    ‘What mean you?’
    ‘That I cannot stand by and see you usurp the throne.’
    His face was dull red. He was furiously angry with her. This was another slur on his birth. If he had been legitimate would there have been this question about his inheritance? Of course there would not. He was going to show them that bastard or not, he was a king. The finest example of a bastard’s greatness was William the First of England who was known as the Conqueror.
    ‘What will you do to prevent me, Madam?’ he had asked.
    ‘Anything in my power.’
    Angrily he had left her, asking himself what she could do. She was powerless. She was merely William’s widow who had failed to give him a son. Yet, she would have the people’s sympathy as the grieving widow determined to carry out her husband’s wishes. He did not want her rousing the people against him.
    Soon after he had left her the guards appeared to tell her she had been put under arrest. And thus she had remained through the winter. From the windows of her prison she had watched the spring and summer come to Palermo.
    ‘How long will it last?’ she had constantly asked.
    It was one day in late summer when one of her attendants came to her in a state of great excitement.
    ‘Good news,’ she said. ‘I had it from one of the serving men who had it from a messenger who had come from afar. The King of England is setting out on a crusade to the Holy Land. The King of France is to accompany him. They are bringing their fleets to Messina and will sail from there to Acre.’
    ‘My brother coming to Sicily!’
    ‘Think not, my lady, that Richard King of England will allow you to remain Tancred’s prisoner.’
    ‘Nay,’ she cried. ‘He never will.’
    ‘Great events are afoot, my lady.’
    Joanna nodded slowly. Yes indeed, she was certain of it. Great events were afoot.

    Richard’s journey was taking longer than he had planned it should. He must make sure that his lands were well guarded against attack while he was away. He refused to listen to those advisers who suggested that having inherited the throne but a few months before it was a little soon to leave it. There were not many who put forward this view. They were afraid to. Giving voice to such an opinion could offend two mighty powers – Richard and Heaven – and both were believed capable of dire revenge.
    There were some who raised their voices in criticism though. Fulke of Neuilly, although in favour of the crusade, doubted whether Richard was the man to lead it. That he was a great general, the finest soldier known to Europe, was accepted. But, preached Fulke, this was a holy war. How holy was Richard? There were certain ugly rumours about his private life. His passionate friendship with the King of France was remembered. And these two were the leaders of their crusades! True enough it was meet and fitting that such enterprises should be led by kings, but should not those kings mend their ways before they set themselves up as Heaven’s generals?
    Richard was present when Fulke was preaching and Fulke fearlessly ended his fiery sermon by crying out: ‘Thou hast three dangerous daughters, oh Prince. They are leading you to the brink of a precipice.’
    ‘You are a mistaken hypocrite,’ responded Richard. ‘I have no daughters.’
    ‘Indeed you have,’ retorted Fulke. ‘They are Pride, Avarice and Lasciviousness.’
    The King threw up his arms and cried to the assembly of peers who were present. ‘Is it so then? I will give my Pride to the Templars and Hospitallers, my avarice to the Cistercian monks and my lasciviousness to the