‘See how he stares at me,’ cried Edward. ‘Insolent boy.’
‘He should lose his eyes for his insolence,’ said a voice.
Henry cried: ‘No. Let the boy go. He does no harm.’
‘He displeases me,’ retorted Edward, irritated and determined to ignore Henry’s advice.
One of the men had lifted the boy’s hair. ‘He has two ears, my lord,’ he said.
Then he took out his sword and held it aloft.
‘Shall I remove one of them, my lord, since they appear to be of little use to him?’
‘Oh cruel …’ murmured Henry.
Edward was angry suddenly. ‘Shall I be told by Henry what I am to do?’ he asked himself. ‘Henry is a weak man … afraid of losing the goodwill of the people. I’ll show him.’
‘I’ll have his ear,’ he shouted.
The sword came down. The boy fell fainting to the ground. The man with the sword was bowing before Edward, holding a piece of bloodstained flesh in his hands.
‘By God,’ cried Henry, ‘I’ll be no part of this.’ Then he leaped from his horse and picked up the boy.
He murmured to him: ‘Fear not. I will take you to your home. No more harm shall come to you.’
There was silence in the group as Henry walked away carrying the boy in his arms.
‘Ride on!’ shouted Edward.
When they had gone one horse remained patiently awaiting for the return of his master.
Sickened by what had happened and the lighter by his purse which he left with the boy’s family, Henry rode slowly back to the palace.
Henry scarcely looked at his cousin. He could not bear to. He felt nauseated when he did.
He would never forget holding the quivering body in his arms and contemplating the wanton cruelty of what had happened.
He would ask his father to let him go abroad. He no longer wished to be of Edward’s company. He believed he would never be able to look at him again without seeing that boy’s mutilated head.
When Edward returned to the castle, he wanted to be alone. When he was he sat on his bed and buried his head in his hands.
Why should he feel thus? he asked himself. Why could he not shut out of his mind the memory of that boy’s bleeding head and the look of contempt in Henry’s eyes?
Then he thought of the boy. He would carry his mutilation with him throughout his life and when people asked about it he would say: Edward did that.
Henry was right. It was a stupid, senseless act of cruelty. It brought no good to him and terrible suffering to that boy and his family. And all because he had seen the look in the eyes of his de Montfort cousins – ready to sneer at him, as far as they dared, ready to call him a coward.
They hated Henry because in a way they were jealous of him. Henry’s father was the great Richard of Cornwall, brother to the King, one of the most powerful men in the country. They would do anything to discountenance him, but that was difficult. Henry, because of his high principles, was aloof from them – as he was from them all.
Edward had always looked up to Henry. He wanted Henry’s good opinion. Ever since they were babies in the same nursery Henry had been as the elder brother.
Now Henry despised him.
He had to talk to Henry. He wanted to explain. He would find out where the boy lived and send some compensation. It seemed as though he had suddenly grown up and saw how silly he had been. His behaviour had not been that of a man who was learning to be a great ruler.
He decided to go to his cousin’s chamber without delay. He must talk to him.
Henry was not in his chamber.
‘Where is my cousin?’ he asked one of the servants.
‘My lord, he left this morning early.’
‘Left? He did not tell me.’
Edward stared ahead of him.
He knew that he would have no peace of mind until he had seen Henry.
Henry found his father at Westminster where he had been since the departure of the King for Gascony. As co-Regent it was necessary for Richard to be at the centre of affairs.
When he saw his son his eyes lit up. More than anything on earth he loved this boy – more than power, wealth or Sanchia. He was a son to be proud of. Tall and strong, Richard could never look on him without being reminded of the boy’s mother for he was very like her. She had been one of the great beauties of her day, poor Isabella. He did not really want to be reminded of her, for he was a little ashamed of his treatment of her. That marriage had been doomed from the first. Still it had brought him Henry and no man could ask for a finer son.
Henry was not only brave and manly, he was good. He was a man whom others would follow because of that essential honesty and integrity which were obvious to all who knew him. He was grandson on his mother’s side of great William Marshal, one of the finest men who had ever lived. William Marshal was a man who had never once stepped aside from the paths of honour and duty. Henry was such another. Yes, he must be grateful to Isabella. On his father’s side he had King John, Henry II and back to the Conqueror. And that produced this son of his.
He clasped him in his arms.
‘Welcome, my son. It does me good to see you.’
‘How fare you, Father?’
‘Oh well enough. There is much to occupy me as co-Regent with the Queen. It is never easy to work with another. It would be so much simpler to stand alone. You are troubled I can see.’
‘I have come for your advice.’
Richard glowed with pleasure. There was nothing more gratifying than to know this beloved son came first to him when he was in difficulties.
‘What is it, my son?’
‘I would like to leave Edward’s service.’
‘Oh. What is it? A quarrel?’
‘I find I can no longer stomach his behaviour.’
‘Rough riding through the country. That boy is growing into a fool.’
Henry gave his father an account of the boy who had lost his ear.
‘My God,’ said Richard. ‘What a fool he is! He is like his mother. He does not realise that the people in the end decide on whether he shall keep his throne. And you were there.’
‘I tried to remonstrate, but I knew that advice from me makes him act more violently. It has happened in the past. I took the boy to his home and gave the family a purse.’
Richard nodded. He knew that Henry would take the right action.
‘I feel that I can no longer serve him. I want to go abroad.’
‘To go abroad. That means to Gascony to serve with the King.’ Richard frowned. ‘I would not have that. And to leave Edward! One day he will be King, you know.’
‘If he is going to be like our grandfather I would have no wish to serve him.’
‘I understand that well. If he is going to be like his grandfather he will not long be King. Henry, you could stay with me. Nothing would delight me more. Edward will want to know why you have left him.’
‘He would know. He is fully aware of my disgust. Father, I can no longer ride out with him when cruel senseless disgusting acts are likely to take place at any moment. I will not, Father.’
‘Nor shall you. By God, you are as royal as he. But for the fact that his father was older than I by a few months you would be the heir to the throne. What a happy thing for England that would be! So, as my son, you need not serve your cousin if you do not wish to. But I could not agree to your going abroad, Henry.’ Richard hesitated. ‘You are no longer very young. You must know what is happening. The Queen grows more and more unpopular and the King is not loved by his people. This matter of Simon de Montfort’s quarrel with the King has been watched by the barons. There could come a day when they will takes sides as they did in the days of your grandfather. Henry, you should be here. You should learn what is happening.’