Clearly, des Roches had thought Philip was no ally for him.
In the heat of his temper he had gone to John and said that he would persuade Arthur and Constance to come to terms with him and give up their claim; but he would do this on one condition: that he, William des Roches, was to decide their actions.
John, rejoicing in the rift between William des Roches and Philip, had delightedly agreed, and peace was concluded between Arthur and John – an uneasy one it was true, for Constance had been highly suspicious of John’s intentions towards her son.
William des Roches had then worked closely with John. When he had heard that the young Duke was at Mirebeau it was William des Roches who had been one of those foremost in leading the attack.
‘If we capture Arthur,’ he had told John, ‘you will, my lord, remember your promises that I should have a say in the young Duke’s future?’
John had promised.
And now he had sent Arthur off to Falaise where his jailer would be William de Braose.
William des Roches was incensed when he presented himself to John, though he did his best to hide his mood.
‘My lord,’ he said, ‘it is good news, Arthur is your prisoner.’
John laughed. ‘You should have seen the boy’s face when I threatened to castrate him. He believed it, you know. ’Twould be amusing to take from him the opportunity of savouring that of which at this time he is ignorant, I believe. His mother kept him under close restraint, and I doubt he had any opportunity to try his talents.’
‘The young Duke is well, I trust,’ said William.
‘The would-be-King has become a frightened little boy.’
‘Poor child,’ said William. ‘I have come for your permission to take over the care of him.’
John raised his eyebrows. ‘He is well cared for. You need have no qualms in that respect.’
‘I am glad of it. I understand he is at Falaise with de Braose.’
‘A good man, de Braose,’ said John, ‘and one I would always trust. He was a good friend to my brother and has been to me. He likes to profit from his service, but what matters that if his profit is mine also?’
‘I am prepared to ride to Falaise without delay.’
‘There’ll be no need, my dear fellow.’
‘Sir, I consider there is every need. You have forgotten our pact. I made the peace between you and Arthur; I have fought for you and you’ll remember my reward was to be that I was to have the charge of Arthur.’
‘Reward!’ cried John. ‘Men do not generally ask about their rewards when serving me.’
‘They think of them none the less, I dare swear,’ said des Roches boldly.
Warning lights were shining in John’s eyes. William des Roches was aware of them, but important enough he believed to ignore them.
‘They are too courteous … or perhaps too fearful … to mention them,’ said John meaningfully.
‘Then perhaps I should be the same,’ said des Roches.
‘You were always a clever fellow, William. You ever knew which side to jump before it was too late.’
‘Thank you, my lord, for that compliment.’
‘You are welcome to it.’ John nodded to imply he was tired of the subject and William des Roches took the opportunity to retire.
‘Be careful,’ warned John as William left. ‘Mind which way you jump.’
He had misjudged des Roches, who was in a position to do a great deal of harm and he was determined to do it.
That day he deserted John and without delay formed a league of the lords of Brittany, marched into action and took certain castles, thus cutting off John’s means of communication to the south.
The rot had set in. The success of Mirebeau was seen to be trivial. With the French King ready to seize any opportunity, with the Lusignans raring to avenge the insult on the head of their house in addition to the abduction of Isabella, and with all those who hated John – and they were numerous – waiting for the moment to come when they could successfully rise against him, John’s hold on his Continental territories was growing weaker every day.
He could not see it, for he was still revelling in his marriage, which after a brief separation seemed like a new beginning to him.
His supporters began to be anxious. It was as though Isabella’s beauty and allurements had been bestowed on her by the devil, who was determined on John’s destruction, for when he rose from his bed – late in the day – he would be languid after the night’s performance and disinclined for anything but to wait for the night to come again.
Isabella thought often of Hugh in his dungeons and wondered whether he ever thought of her. It was not her fault; she did hope he understood that. She had had no say in the matter. Her parents and the King had decided for her.
She shivered with horror when rumours reached her of what had happened to the prisoners of Corfe Castle. They were all dead, for food supplies had been cut off from them and they were left to starve to death in the dungeons.
People were whispering that this was not the way to treat honourable prisoners who had merely followed a leader and been loyal to him.
They had revolted and tried to escape and it was then that John had given the cruel order: ‘Let them starve. That will teach them to rise against me.’
She would lie in their bed and think of the terrible things that were happening all around them and how powerful John was and how terrible in anger. He was never angry with her although there had been occasions when he was on the verge of it. She used to wonder what would happen if she ever took a lover. She had to admit that she would have liked to. Such was her nature that she could never see a handsome man without picturing him as a lover. Sometimes she would see one of them looking at her and some sort of understanding would flash between them. It would be so easy – a moment’s temptation and they might succumb to it. And what if John discovered?
What would he do? In her wilder moments she sometimes thought she was so eager to know that she would run the risk to find out. That would be folly, she realised on those occasions when she saw his temper.
She wondered about him. The same thoughts must occur to him.
He was getting anxious now because there was whispering among his knights. William des Roches had not only deserted him but was raising forces against him. So powerful was the man that the complacent mood following Mirebeau had to change, even for John. He had to see what was happening, for he knew that at any moment Philip could be expected to take advantage of the situation.
John was at last persuaded that he must leave Isabella for a few days and see what was happening in his dominions. He reluctantly agreed to do this and sent Isabella to Chinon.
His enemies, who had laughed at his obsession with his wife which exceeded that for his country, decided this was too good an opportunity to miss. What if they captured Isabella? What could they demand from John for her release?
Thus when Isabella was coming into Chinon she heard that a party of rebel barons were waiting to take her prisoner. The news was carried to John at the same time. He was frantic. She must be brought to him at once; never again would he allow her to go from his side.
He was advised against going to her rescue, for it seemed that it might well have been a trap to capture him. Instead, a strong band of his mercenaries rode with all speed to Chinon and on the road encountered Isabella in flight.
They brought her back to John.
He wept with relief when he saw her, picking her up in his arms and carrying her to their bedchamber.
She laughed at his fears.
‘What if they had taken me?’ she said. ‘What would you have done then?’
‘I would not have rested until I had brought you back where you belong.’
‘What of your country, John? They say that is in danger of being taken from you.’