Read Online David the Prince - Scotland 03 by Nigel Tranter - Free Book Online
Authors: Nigel Tranter
Tags: Historical Novel
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Treasurer of this kingdom. That I would keep them secure, never leave them from off my person. Save to hand them, when required, to the rightful King of England."
'I am the King of England now, Will. Have you not thought of that? Give me them."
The other gazed at him, whilst David gulped. They were seeing a new Henry Beauclerc.
"Henry - my lord Prince - how can that be?" de Breteuil demanded. "You are the youngest son. Robert, Duke of Normandy, is older. He should succeed. In the treaty between your brothers it was decided. That Robert should have Normandy and William the greater England. But that if William died, lacking heir, Robert should be King . . ."
"Robert is far away. On this great Crusade to the Holy Land. Moreover, Robert is a fool, and weak. England needs a strong king, with wits - and here present! Now. Think you that this realm of fierce, proud lords and warring factions can be held together by aught but the presence of a determined monarch who knows his own mind? If I do not grasp the throne now , there will be war within weeks and no kingdom of England within months!"
"Nevertheless, Henry, you are not the King. Not yet. Not when there is a more senior heir, and named so by treaty. Not until you are accepted as such by at least a great number of the lords. And until you are I cannot give you the keys." "You will not?"
"No. I am sorry. I am your friend - but this I cannot do."
"So-o-o!" Henry turned, to where his sword hung from its belt on a peg beside his bed. He whipp ed it from its scabbard. "Will – I will have those keys. They are on your person. We arc friends, yes - but a kingdom's weal is more important than one man, even a friend. Give me them - or, as God is my witness, I shall strike you down and take them!"
For a long moment they eyed each other starkly, while David gripped the girdle of his tunic tightly.
Then de Breteuil inclined his head, and reaching up, loosened the silken scarf around his neck and drew out the three keys in a soft leather pouch which hung on a golden chain. Slipping the chain over his close-cropped head, he handed it, warm from his body, to the prince.
Henry nodded. "Now - to the Treasury. David - yonder is another sword. Draw it, and follow me. Will - you also. Come."
Leaving the bedchamber they strode through the long vaulted corridors of the castle-palace almost to its other end, Henry beckoning imperiously to any guards or others they passed to fall in behind. They had collected quite a little crowd by the time they reached the North Tower. There, isolated, a special guard of three men, throwing dice, started up in some confusion at the eruption, reaching for their weapons; but seeing that it was the prince and their own master, the Treasurer, they straightened up in salute.
Henry handed the sword he was carrying to David, who now had two. The Prince selected the largest of the three keys, to unlock the heavy door of the tower basement. As it creaked open, he signed to all but de Breteuil and David to remain outside. Voices rose in question and exclamation as the door was closed again in their faces.
The stone-vaulted cellar was only dimly lighted with three slit windows, but sufficiently to reveal the stacks, from floor to curved ceiling, of iron-bound chests, scores of them. Henry stepped over, loosed the hasp of one and threw up the lid. It was filled with silver pieces. He tried another. This was as full, but of gold coins. He picked up a handful of these, and let them trickle through his fingers.
"The sinews of a kingdom!" he said. This was the Conqueror's treasure, looted from all England and half France, added to by Rufus's penal taxation and extortions from Holy Church.
Slamming down the lids again, Henry took the middle key and opened an inner door, which led into an adjoining and smaller chamber. As well as more chests, this one was shelved, and on the shelves were piled hundreds upon hundreds of vessels and ornaments in gold and silver, cups,
'I am the King of England now, Will. Have you not thought of that? Give me them."
The other gazed at him, whilst David gulped. They were seeing a new Henry Beauclerc.
"Henry - my lord Prince - how can that be?" de Breteuil demanded. "You are the youngest son. Robert, Duke of Normandy, is older. He should succeed. In the treaty between your brothers it was decided. That Robert should have Normandy and William the greater England. But that if William died, lacking heir, Robert should be King . . ."
"Robert is far away. On this great Crusade to the Holy Land. Moreover, Robert is a fool, and weak. England needs a strong king, with wits - and here present! Now. Think you that this realm of fierce, proud lords and warring factions can be held together by aught but the presence of a determined monarch who knows his own mind? If I do not grasp the throne now , there will be war within weeks and no kingdom of England within months!"
"Nevertheless, Henry, you are not the King. Not yet. Not when there is a more senior heir, and named so by treaty. Not until you are accepted as such by at least a great number of the lords. And until you are I cannot give you the keys." "You will not?"
"No. I am sorry. I am your friend - but this I cannot do."
"So-o-o!" Henry turned, to where his sword hung from its belt on a peg beside his bed. He whipp ed it from its scabbard. "Will – I will have those keys. They are on your person. We arc friends, yes - but a kingdom's weal is more important than one man, even a friend. Give me them - or, as God is my witness, I shall strike you down and take them!"
For a long moment they eyed each other starkly, while David gripped the girdle of his tunic tightly.
Then de Breteuil inclined his head, and reaching up, loosened the silken scarf around his neck and drew out the three keys in a soft leather pouch which hung on a golden chain. Slipping the chain over his close-cropped head, he handed it, warm from his body, to the prince.
Henry nodded. "Now - to the Treasury. David - yonder is another sword. Draw it, and follow me. Will - you also. Come."
Leaving the bedchamber they strode through the long vaulted corridors of the castle-palace almost to its other end, Henry beckoning imperiously to any guards or others they passed to fall in behind. They had collected quite a little crowd by the time they reached the North Tower. There, isolated, a special guard of three men, throwing dice, started up in some confusion at the eruption, reaching for their weapons; but seeing that it was the prince and their own master, the Treasurer, they straightened up in salute.
Henry handed the sword he was carrying to David, who now had two. The Prince selected the largest of the three keys, to unlock the heavy door of the tower basement. As it creaked open, he signed to all but de Breteuil and David to remain outside. Voices rose in question and exclamation as the door was closed again in their faces.
The stone-vaulted cellar was only dimly lighted with three slit windows, but sufficiently to reveal the stacks, from floor to curved ceiling, of iron-bound chests, scores of them. Henry stepped over, loosed the hasp of one and threw up the lid. It was filled with silver pieces. He tried another. This was as full, but of gold coins. He picked up a handful of these, and let them trickle through his fingers.
"The sinews of a kingdom!" he said. This was the Conqueror's treasure, looted from all England and half France, added to by Rufus's penal taxation and extortions from Holy Church.
Slamming down the lids again, Henry took the middle key and opened an inner door, which led into an adjoining and smaller chamber. As well as more chests, this one was shelved, and on the shelves were piled hundreds upon hundreds of vessels and ornaments in gold and silver, cups,
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