of England.”
Hugh de Puiset drew a sharp breath, then swung around to glare accusingly at Longchamp. The chancellor had not yet mastered the art of inscrutability, and one glance told Hugh that his suspicions were right; Longchamp had known this was coming. It was an easy step from that to the next—that he had planted this noxious seed and then watered it till it took root in Richard’s mind. “My lord king, surely you do not doubt my loyalty? I’ve had far more experience than the Bishop of Ely, know the barons of the kingdom as he does not—”
“The decision has been made, my lord bishop,” Richard interrupted. “I am not disrespecting you, merely doing what is best for England.” Hugh would have continued his protest, but Richard was already turning his attention upon his brother Geoff.
“I do not have the money to pay that fine,” Geoff said morosely before Richard could speak.
“That can be discussed later. What I’ve come to tell you now is that I will require you to swear a solemn oath that you will not set foot in England for the next three years.” Geoff’s mouth dropped open, and then his eyes flashed. Richard gave him no chance to object, though. “I will be requiring the same oath from you, Johnny,” he told John, whose response was more guarded than Geoff’s. He stiffened, but said nothing, slanting his gaze from Richard to Eleanor, back to Richard again.
Richard let the silence stretch out, smothering any embers of rebellion, and then got to his feet. “I shall see you at the great council tomorrow,” he said, and after beckoning to his chancellor, he kissed his mother on the cheek and sauntered out, Longchamp hurrying to catch up. Geoff was the next to go, fuming helplessly. The Bishop of Durham would have lingered to argue his case with Eleanor, but she was not receptive and he soon departed, too, followed by John.
Welcoming this rare chance to be alone, Eleanor sat down in the window-seat. She approved of Richard’s move to circumscribe the Bishop of Durham’s authority, for he’d never impressed her, a courtier cloaked in the garb of a cleric. But there were risks, too, in the road Richard had chosen. Longchamp was now chancellor and chief justiciar, in possession of the king’s great seal and the Tower of London. If Richard’s request to make him a papal legate was granted by the Holy Father, he’d have a formidable arsenal of weapons, both religious and secular. Was it wise to give any one man that much power?
A soft knock interrupted her musings. “Enter,” she said with a sigh; she should have known her solitude would be fleeting. To her surprise, it was John. “May I speak with you, Madame?” he asked formally. “It is a matter of importance.”
“Come in, John.” When she gestured toward the window-seat, he declined with a quick shake of his head, keeping some distance between them by leaning against the table. Of all her children, he alone had inherited her coloring, dark hair and hazel eyes. He did not speak immediately and she regarded him pensively. How could she feel so detached from a child of her womb, her flesh-and-blood?
She supposed it was not truly so surprising, though, for he’d been six when she’d been captured and turned over to her wrathful husband. She had not been denied access to her daughter Joanna and eventually Henry had relented, allowing her older sons to visit her, too. But she’d not seen John again until he was twelve and then rarely, even after Henry had dramatically eased the terms of her confinement. He’d been Henry’s, never hers. As she gazed into the greenish-gold eyes so like her own, a memory flickered of an afternoon soon after Hal’s death. She’d confessed to Geoffrey that she did not really know John, and Geoffrey had proven once again that he was the family seer, predicting that Henry did not really know John, either.
“Mother . . . I fear that Richard may be making a mistake in investing so much royal authority in his chancellor.”
“Oh? Do you have reason to doubt Longchamp’s loyalty?”
“No, I do not. But loyalty is not the only consideration. There are men who function quite well as second in command, yet do not thrive when given absolute authority, and it can be argued that Longchamp will be acting as a de facto king with Richard away in the Holy Land for who knows how long. Especially if