prisoner in his castle of St Jean Beveron but not before, with the help of good friends, she had been able to send Arthur out of harm’s way to the Court of the King of France.
It was the good people of Brittany who had helped to release her from her prison and fearing that the King of France might use Arthur to gain his own advantage, she had him brought back to her and thus they were together again; but never for a moment must Constance forget how important her son was to the affairs of Europe. There was the King of France on one hand and the King of England on the other, both seeking to use him against each other; but the real enemy was John – the uncle in whose way he could possibly stand, for in the minds of some people Arthur was a step ahead of him in the succession to the throne.
‘I almost wish Arthur were not his father’s heir,’ said Constance. ‘There are times when I wish we could go away together … you, I and my children, and forget Arthur’s inheritance.’
‘Do you really wish that, Constance?’ Guy asked wistfully.
And she could not answer truthfully because Arthur was her son and her love mingled with her ambitions for him. Arthur could be King of England and she could not forget that.
‘If Arthur were safe on the throne of England, in command of possessions here, if he were a few years older …’
‘While Richard lives, the boy is safe. No harm will come to him. Come, my love, forget your troubles. The boy is safe. None could be more carefully guarded.’
‘All the same,’ said Constance, ‘we will be wary of John.’
When John left Constance he went into the schoolroom where Arthur sat with his tutor. The boy’s fair head was bent over his books and John was amused to see how alert the tutor had become since his entry.
‘Ah, nephew,’ said John breezily. ‘I find you at your study. That is good. A boy can never learn too much. Is that not so, my good man?’
The tutor had risen. He bowed to John and replied that learning was an admirable asset to all.
‘Then we are in one mind.’ He nodded. ‘I wish to be alone with my nephew,’ he added.
The man had no recourse but to leave; but he would not go far, John thought with a smirk of amusement. His orders would have been: keep near and send word that Prince John is alone with the young Duke; and someone would be at hand to make sure no harm came to Arthur. He would do his best to lead them a merry dance.
‘Such a beautiful day,’ said John. ‘Not one to be poring over books.’
‘Lessons must be learned,’ said Arthur.
‘What a model pupil you are! I never was. I preferred the hunt and the good fresh air to poring over books.’
‘I can well believe that,’ replied Arthur. Insolent young dog, thought John with a sudden uprush of temper. Be careful, he advised himself. It’s necessary to play the good uncle here.
Arthur went on: ‘My mother thinks that I must spend much time in study and so did the King of France.’
‘I’ll warrant you and young Louis had good sport together.’
‘We hunted, we fenced and studied the art of chivalry …’
‘All that a prince should know, I’ll warrant – and more also. Come, we will go and ride together, eh … just the two of us.’He said that very loudly for the sake of the listening tutor. Now there would be panic.
Like most young people Arthur loved to feel a horse beneath him; he had inherited the Plantagenet love of the chase from his father; and although he did not like his uncle – and being young and a little arrogant and well aware of his importance, he made little effort to hide the fact – he could not resist the suggestion that they should ride.
‘Come. Let us go.’
Arthur stood up. He was going to be tall and good-looking, resembling his late uncle Henry, who was the best-looking of all the sons of Henry II. His sojourn at the Court of France had had its effect on him; his manners were courtly and he wore his clothes with grace. The
It was the good people of Brittany who had helped to release her from her prison and fearing that the King of France might use Arthur to gain his own advantage, she had him brought back to her and thus they were together again; but never for a moment must Constance forget how important her son was to the affairs of Europe. There was the King of France on one hand and the King of England on the other, both seeking to use him against each other; but the real enemy was John – the uncle in whose way he could possibly stand, for in the minds of some people Arthur was a step ahead of him in the succession to the throne.
‘I almost wish Arthur were not his father’s heir,’ said Constance. ‘There are times when I wish we could go away together … you, I and my children, and forget Arthur’s inheritance.’
‘Do you really wish that, Constance?’ Guy asked wistfully.
And she could not answer truthfully because Arthur was her son and her love mingled with her ambitions for him. Arthur could be King of England and she could not forget that.
‘If Arthur were safe on the throne of England, in command of possessions here, if he were a few years older …’
‘While Richard lives, the boy is safe. No harm will come to him. Come, my love, forget your troubles. The boy is safe. None could be more carefully guarded.’
‘All the same,’ said Constance, ‘we will be wary of John.’
When John left Constance he went into the schoolroom where Arthur sat with his tutor. The boy’s fair head was bent over his books and John was amused to see how alert the tutor had become since his entry.
‘Ah, nephew,’ said John breezily. ‘I find you at your study. That is good. A boy can never learn too much. Is that not so, my good man?’
The tutor had risen. He bowed to John and replied that learning was an admirable asset to all.
‘Then we are in one mind.’ He nodded. ‘I wish to be alone with my nephew,’ he added.
The man had no recourse but to leave; but he would not go far, John thought with a smirk of amusement. His orders would have been: keep near and send word that Prince John is alone with the young Duke; and someone would be at hand to make sure no harm came to Arthur. He would do his best to lead them a merry dance.
‘Such a beautiful day,’ said John. ‘Not one to be poring over books.’
‘Lessons must be learned,’ said Arthur.
‘What a model pupil you are! I never was. I preferred the hunt and the good fresh air to poring over books.’
‘I can well believe that,’ replied Arthur. Insolent young dog, thought John with a sudden uprush of temper. Be careful, he advised himself. It’s necessary to play the good uncle here.
Arthur went on: ‘My mother thinks that I must spend much time in study and so did the King of France.’
‘I’ll warrant you and young Louis had good sport together.’
‘We hunted, we fenced and studied the art of chivalry …’
‘All that a prince should know, I’ll warrant – and more also. Come, we will go and ride together, eh … just the two of us.’He said that very loudly for the sake of the listening tutor. Now there would be panic.
Like most young people Arthur loved to feel a horse beneath him; he had inherited the Plantagenet love of the chase from his father; and although he did not like his uncle – and being young and a little arrogant and well aware of his importance, he made little effort to hide the fact – he could not resist the suggestion that they should ride.
‘Come. Let us go.’
Arthur stood up. He was going to be tall and good-looking, resembling his late uncle Henry, who was the best-looking of all the sons of Henry II. His sojourn at the Court of France had had its effect on him; his manners were courtly and he wore his clothes with grace. The
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