I did not think friendship would be true friendship if it depended on gifts,’ said the Prince.
‘I see the good Doctor teaches you wisdom. I have to buy allies, Edward. I call them friends but as you so rightly point out they are not truly my friends and they could be my enemies if someone came along with a better proposition. Now, Edward, you are here in Brabant to be seen by the Duke. He will decide then whether you are a fitting bridegroom for his daughter.’
‘Is the Duke one of these friends who have to be bought?’ ‘I need his help, Edward. This is a mighty task.’
‘Do you need the French crown so badly, Father?’ ‘I need not to be deprived of my rights.’
The Prince saw the point of that.
‘We will take it. I long to fight beside you.’
‘One day, my son. One day.’
The Prince was not very sure that he liked being inspected as a future bridegroom. He did not see Margaret. That would come later. So much depended on the war. If Edward had had a few successes every prince in the neighbourhood would be eager to be his friend. What he needed was success. But first of all he must have money.
Money, money, money! It was the crying need. So much to be spent, so many bribes to be given, so much lavish entertaining.
The Prince wondered if this was the way to win a war.
He found himself riding side by side with a very handsome man some ten years his senior. There was something honest about him and the Prince at this time, brooding on what his father had said about bribing for friendship, was deeply concerned with honesty.
The young man asked him how he liked being out of England and Edward replied that it was good to be where important events were going to happen.
They chatted awhile of trivial matters and then Edward asked the young man what he thought about the delay in fighting. Did it seem to him that there was a certain reluctance on both sides?
The young man was thoughtful. It did seem so. There had been so much talk of war that it was certainly strange that no battle should have taken place. He thought that it was due to lack of money. He had been present he said at the banquet when Robert of Artois had produced the roasted heron. Perhaps the King had made his vow before he was ready to fight.
Then they talked about the claims of the King through his mother and how Philip was not really in the direct line.
Edward found it most interesting and very much enjoyed the company of the young man.
He asked his name.
‘It is John Chandos,’ he was told.
‘Well, John Chandos,’ he said, ‘I hope we shall ride together again.’
John Chandos said he was at the Prince’s disposal and as the days passed the Prince saw more of John Chandos, and when he deplored the fact that he was so young and therefore would not be allowed to join in the battle, John pointed out that there were always compensations in every situation. Just imagine,’ he said, ‘if you were four or five years older they would be marrying you to Margaret of Brabant.’
‘And I am not at all sure that I want to marry her, John.’
‘That is what I mean. So be thankful that you cannot just yet.’
The Prince laughed. And his friendship with John Chandos grew.
Philippa noticed it and was pleased. It was good for Edward to make friends and although Sir John Chandos was not of the most noble birth, he was of good family and an honourable man who had given the King good service. One of his sisters, Elizabeth, had been maid of honour to Philippa at one time. She had liked the woman, just as she liked her brother.
John Chandos could teach Edward a good deal.
Philippa was deeply concerned with other matters. Edward had said that he thought he would have to go to England to raise some money.
She sighed. Money could be spent in so many better ways than in war. She was very sorry that Edward had ever thought of laying claim to the throne of France. If he had not they might all be together in England.
She thought constantly of her family. She worried about Joapna and Isabella. If only they could return to England whdre they belonged and settle down to live in peace.
She had a fancy that she might be pregnant again.
Joanna was desperately unhappy. Because her aunt Margaret looked a little like her mother she had expected her to act like her. When her father had ridden away the little girl had burst into tears and continued to sob bitterly.
Her aunt looked at her with some distaste and said rather sharply: ‘Now, child, you are not a baby you know. What are You making that noise for?’
Joanna stopped crying to look at the Empress in astonishment.
‘I want my father,’ she said, ‘and my mother.’
The Empress turned away impatiently. ‘Pray make the child wash her face,’ she said. ‘The sight is offensive.’
Joanna was astounded. She had thought her aunt would understand. She had been so kind when her father was there and she had told him how generous he was to have given her such lovely jewels.
‘You can trust me to look after your daughter,’ she had said.
And now she could not understand how miserable Joanna was. Surely she knew that there was never a father in the world like hers, nor a mother like her sister Philippa? And was it not reasonable to suppose that any daughter who had lost them would be miserable?
It was a sad realization that all might not be as she thought.
When she next saw her aunt she was composed and it was a ceremonial occasion. The Emperor and the Empress were together before a banquet and Joanna was taken to her because the Empress had wished it. She was all smiles and friendliness. ‘My dear child,’ she said, ‘all, you look well now. It was a sad parting was it not?’ Then to someone at her elbow. ‘The daughter of my sister the Queen of England, is a little sad just now, being parted from her parents, but she will be happy and well with me. Will you not, Joanna?’
Poor Joanna was bewildered. She wondered if she had heard correctly on that other occasion.
Sometimes she rode beside the Empress on her little pony and people smiled at her and seemed as though they were pleased to see her.
Duke Otho was kind and she was presented to Frederic who was to be her husband. She did not greatly care for him.
‘Oh,’ said the Empress being kind now, ‘it will be a long long time before you are old enough to marry.’
‘I hope I never do,’ said Joanna.
‘That,’ replied the Empress coldly, ‘is a very stupid statement.’
She was looking at Joanna with cold dislike again and Joanna felt a great impulse to cry like a baby for her mother.
It was a little bewildering when one was not very old to leave one’s family and go away to strangers, even though it had always been stressed that princesses had to grow up more quickly than other people.
She was thankful to Lord John de Montgomery although she could not confide in him, but he did give her the feeling that she was being looked after.
She had a few attendants and it was comforting to talk to them but she saw that as the weeks passed they were becoming rather uneasy. There was often very little to eat—in fact not enough for the household and she heard the attendants talking together and saying that if Queen Philippa knew how her sister was treating the little Princess she would never forgive her.
After her first show of friendship the Empress rarely came near her niece. In fact she seemed to have forgotten her existence. Joanna was deeply hurt; she had expected very different treatment from her mother’s sister.
Lord John came to see her and he told her that it was no use pretending that she was being treated properly at the Imperial Court and he proposed writing to the King and telling him what was happening to his daughter.