Almost immediately he was setting out on the Scottish campaign for Robert the Bruce had agreed to meet him to discuss peace terms. Robert the Bruce was a man he had heard mentioned throughout his childhood and he knew that there was a leader to be reckoned with in spite of the fact that, according to rumour, he was dying of leprosy, which was probably the reason why he wanted a permanent peace. He was a bold man and it was soon realized that in spite of his desire for peace he was determined to have it on his own terms and if he could not achieve this then he would invade England. For this purpose he had gathered together a large army and there must only be one reply to this. Edward must march at the head of his army and be ready for action if the talks should fail.
Newly crowned and with the knowledge that his father was the guest of his cousin the Earl of Lancaster in Kenilworth he had set out for the North. With him and his army came his mother and Mortimer, his eleven-year-old brother John, and his two sisters, nine-year-old Eleanor and six-year-old Joanna. They would not of course go into battle with the army but remain in York while the troops, with Edward at their head, marched up to the Border and into Scotland.
They had been joined by Sir John of Hainault, a rather exuberant romantic-minded knight, brother of the Count of Hainault, who had taken pity on Queen Isabella when she was exiled from her brother’s country of France and needed help to begin the invasion of England. Sir John was so overcome with admiration that he had persuaded his brother to provide the money for Isabella and Mortimer to raise an army.
That was not entirely the truth. There had been an understanding between Isabella and the Count of Hainault and it concerned Edward’s marriage. They had bargained in secret and strangely enough Edward had felt no resentment and this for a very special reason. When he had arrived at the Court of Hainault, after having somewhat humiliatingly left the French Court where they had become unwelcome guests, Edward had enjoyed one of the most pleasant weeks of his life. This was due to the happy time he had spent with the Count’s four charming daughters, and there was one of these daughters who had become his special friend. That was Philippa. He had found her elder sister Margaret charming and her two younger sisters Jeanne and Isabella pleasing; but it was Philippa who had affected him most deeply. She was a tall girl, brown-haired, brown-eyed and with a dazzling pink-and-white complexion, and he had been struck by a certain simplicity lacking in the girls of her age he had met at the Court of France. Not that she was by any means stupid, far from it. She was lively and laughed easily and was so frankly honest that he could not help being charmed by her. Perhaps too his delight in her company was enhanced by her admiration for him. When he had left Hainault she had astonished everyone by bursting into tears because she had to say goodbye to him; and she did this before her parents and their entourage who had gathered together to wish him, his mother and their followers well.
So the fact that his mother had contrived to get the means to raise an army from the Count of Hainault on the condition that her son should marry one of his daughters, and the money supplied was in truth the dowry of that daughter, did not greatly perturb Edward.
One thing he would insist on was that when one of the Hainault girls was chosen for him that girl would have to be Philippa.
When he thought of Philippa and his marriage which must take place soon he felt a rising exultation. It was true he was not yet fifteen but his age would be no deterrent. Philippa was some months younger than he was but when they had ridden out together and he had come to know her he had seen that she was as ready for marriage as he was. It would be gratifying to offer her the crown of England, and he wanted to return from Scotland a conqueror. When he thought of these matters he could easily suppress uneasy thoughts about his father. Had he not given up the crown of his own free will? He preferred a life of ease at Kenilworth in the company of his cousin Lancaster to ruling a country. There was no need to wonder or worry about him. He had always been rather strange, different from other men; and the Queen had assured him that all had been done for the best.
He could believe that, and when Philippa came to him it would be wonderful to have her crowned as his Queen.
Once this Scottish matter was over he would insist on marriage and that his bride must be Philippa of Hainault.
He welcomed Sir John to York. He was delighted to see him not only because he was Philippa’s uncle but because he came with a great army.
His mother greeted Sir John with great affection. She would never forget what he had done for her and she constantly told him so. Sir John was in love with the Queen which made the situation charmingly romantic.
Edward found his mother in her private chamber. Roger de Mortimer was with her. It was becoming more and more impossible to see his mother without Mortimer’s being there too.
‘My dearest son,’ said the Queen embracing him, ‘is it not good to see these men of Hainault in the town?’
‘I welcome them,’ replied Edward.
‘They have been good friends to us,’ commented Mortimer. He was a little forward, Edward thought. He behaved as though he were a member of the family. Mortimer’s manner often irritated him, but his mother did not seem to notice that there was anything wrong and Edward felt too unsure of himself to show he was aware of it.
‘Indeed, it is so,’ said Edward with a certain hauteur. ‘The Count of Hainault proved himself most hospitable to us.’
‘At a time we most needed it,’ went on the Queen. ‘Now I would show similar hospitality to Sir John. I am arranging a banquet to welcome them to York.’
Young Edward inclined his head. Perhaps they should have asked his permission first. Not his own mother surely! He was of course the King but he had to be guided by them in most things. It was not so had when it came from his mother, but he was not sure that he liked to see Mortimer there all the time nodding as though he himself had been the main judge in what should be done. He wondered whether he should speak to his mother about Mortimer. Whenever she mentioned the man there would be a very special note in her voice. What was it? Respect? Admiration? Affection? Well perhaps Mortimer had stood by her when she most needed friends.
‘Sir John will be lodged in an abbey belonging to the White Monks,’ said Mortimer. ‘His men will be close by in quarters allotted to them. It is well not to have them too close to our English troops.’
Edward looked puzzled.
‘There has been a certain amount of friction,’ explained the Queen. ‘The Flemings do certain things differently from the English and it seems that people are inclined to sneer at those who are not exactly like themselves. A strange trait of human nature ... but one commonly found I believe.’
‘How stupid,’ said Edward.
Mortimer smiled his slow rather patronizing smile. “Tis so, my lord, but so many things in life are.’
As though, thought the King, reminding me that I have much to learn.
‘Where is the banquet to take place?’
‘In the house of the Friars Minor,’ his mother told him. ‘It seemed suitable—both the Earl of March and I were of the opinion that it was the best place.’
The Earl of March! Roger de Mortimer. He was nothing but a Marcher Baron until he made his escape from the Tower—where he was being held a prisoner—and was joined by the Queen in France. Then they had gone to Hainault and found help there and come to England, as a result of which his father was a guest at Kenilworth Castle and he was a king.