Meinhard nodded. ‘And you imply that our merchant Hugo could be the King of England?’
‘Who but a king would bestow such a ring as though it is a trifle. What is of great value to most men is a bagatelle to a king.’
‘If this is indeed King Richard, the murderer of my uncle, then what shall we do?’
‘We will take him prisoner. The Emperor will not easily forgive us if we allow him to slip through our fingers.’
‘I will send for the messengers whom we have been holding and give them back the ring. Then we will take him captive.’
‘There are many who would not forgive us if we did not make it known that he had arrived.’
Meinhard of Goritz sent for the messenger.
‘Take this ring back to your master,’ he said. ‘It does not belong to Hugo the Merchant. It belongs to King Richard of England. I have given my word to seize and question all pilgrims who pass through my territory and not to take gifts from them in return for a safe conduct. But this is a different matter. This is the King of England whose fame has travelled ahead of him. It is Coeur de Lion himself. Therefore take the ring and tell him that I have given my word not to accept gifts but because of his greatness and his generosity in offering it to me, I will give him free leave to go.’
When the messenger rode back with the ring and the message there was consternation among Richard’s friends.
‘I like not those words,’ said Baldwin. ‘There is a threat beneath them.’
‘I think so too,’ answered Richard. ‘We will not leave by sea. They will be watching the coast, and if I travel with a large party I shall be recognised immediately. I will go from here with a few of you and some of my possessions and I will start at once. I feel that to delay would be dangerous.’
They parted company and Richard set out. He had not been gone more than an hour when troops arrived at the lodging. Those who remained of Richard’s followers were arrested and taken to Meinhard of Goritz.
When they were brought before him he said: ‘Where is the merchant Hugo?’
Baldwin said: ‘I know not. He left us to pursue his journey alone.’
Meinhard was furious. He saw that he had acted in a manner to arouse suspicion. He should have sent the troops back with the ring. He had presumed that Richard would have accepted his promise for safe conduct and have landed right into his net.
There was no help for it. He had lost the King ... but temporarily, he promised himself.
There was no time for reproaches. He sent messengers at once to his brother Frederick of Betsau, for the host of the previous night when questioned had revealed in which direction Richard had gone, which indicated that he must pass through Frederick’s lands.
Frederick was to look out for the King of England. Every house likely to be used by pilgrims must be watched.
When he received the message, Frederick sent for his cousin Roger of Argenton.
‘A mission for you, Roger,’ he said. ‘The King of England is nearby. He has slipped through my hands but I don’t intend to allow him to continue to do so. I want to capture him. This would mightily please the Emperor. And if he escapes I shall doubtless be reprimanded for allowing him to. He murdered Conrad de Montferrat.’
‘I believed that to have been the Old Man of the Mountains,’ said Roger.
‘Nay, it was Richard who was his enemy. The Old Man’s followers swear that it was Richard who had him killed.’
‘Murderers often like to shift their crimes on to the shoulders of others.’
‘No matter who murdered Conrad, I need Richard here. Go, Roger, and bring him to me. Do not spare yourself or anyone, but bring me Richard.’
Riding across the country Roger of Argenton encountered a company of pilgrims. There was one among them, tall, fair and of such dignified carriage that Roger’s suspicions were immediately aroused.
He asked permission to ride with them. This was granted for Richard liked the look of the young man. He asked him to ride beside him.
‘Tell me,’ said Roger, ‘what is your destination?’
‘We are on our way to England,’ said Richard. ‘Do you know of a nearer route than the one we are taking?’
‘You should head northwards,’ Roger told him, ‘and to the west. You would in due course come to France and from there cross to England.’
‘We have a long journey ahead of us,’ said Richard. ‘Tell me, my friend, have you travelled much?’
‘I have been in Normandy.’
‘Normandy. Ah, a fair land.’
‘As a Norman I agree with you.’
‘By God’s eyes, you are a Norman. I knew it.’
‘How so?’
‘Your bearing, your height. You have the look of a Norman.’
‘That is a compliment.’
‘None greater. Let us talk of Normandy.’
They talked of that land for which it was clear they both had a great affection.
‘Tell me,’ said Richard, ‘did you ever meet its Duke?’
‘To my regret I never did. But he is King of England now and on a crusade to the Holy Land.’
‘Kings mayhap should stay in their own kingdoms, think you?’
‘’Tis a noble thing to fight for the Cross, but it is said that duty lies first to the homeland.’
‘It may well be that you are right,’ answered Richard quietly.
Roger suggested that they should stay a night at one of his castles. There he would be happy to entertain a party whose company he had so much enjoyed.
As they entered the castle Richard could see that his friends were uneasy.
‘My lord,’ whispered one of them, ‘can we trust this man?’
‘I trust him,’ said Richard.
Alas! thought his men. Was Richard perhaps a little too trusting?
The pilgrims were given a large room in which they could spend the night and they were invited to eat in the great hall with Roger’s family.
Afterwards Richard sang for them and they brought a lute for him to play. Then Roger asked that Richard play a game of chess with him.
They removed to a quiet corner of the hall and sat there, the board between them.
Richard noticed the fine handsome face, the noble bearing, the fair colouring, the long Norman legs, and liked well what he saw.
‘I could find it in my heart to linger here,’ he said.
Roger flushed slightly and said: ‘Naught would delight me more, my lord.’
Richard saw that the hand on the piece Roger held trembled a little. He had not noticed he had called him my lord.
Their eyes met and there was understanding between them.
Here is a man whom I could love, thought Richard.
He looked at the rafters above the hall, at their companions still at the table, at the serving men and women passing back and forth.
‘It has been a day I shall remember,’ said Richard. ‘I shall never forget you, Roger of Argenton.’
‘Nor I you, my lord.’
‘What do you know of me, Roger?’
‘That you are no humble pilgrim.’
‘Pilgrims are not always men of humble standing.’
‘Nay, but there is that about you that proclaims you to be of the highest rank.’
‘Do you know who I am?’
‘I know who I believe you to be.’
‘And who is that?’
‘I dare not say, my lord, but if you would tell me it would make me happy.’
‘Can you keep a secret, Roger?’
‘I would let them pull out my tongue, my lord, rather than betray one you told me.’
‘Then here is one: I am Richard of England. Nay, do not rise. It is our secret, remember.’
‘You know they are seeking you?’
‘I know I am surrounded by enemies.’