So once again Roger had saved him, for a day after Richard had parted with his knights they were discovered, arrested and thrown into prison.

There he was, the King of England, accustomed to being surrounded by a retinue of followers, alone in a strange land, save for one page. When he had left his friends he and his page had galloped northwards for some hours until his horse was exhausted; when they had come to a forest, the page tethered the horses to a tree, spread out a cloak upon the grass and they slept.

It was dawn when Richard awoke. He looked about for his friends and seeing only the sleeping page realised with dismay what had happened.

He faced the situation. Richard of England was wandering across Europe, with no knowledge of geography, realising that he was surrounded by enemies, with no servants except the page and only the treasure they could carry to pay for his journey.

It was an incongruous situation. The man who had but a short time ago commanded men in their thousands was now a fugitive.

He was not entirely dismayed. This was adventure, although of a different kind from those that usually came his way, but he was ready for any sort of adventure.

He shouted to his page, who hearing his voice sprang up in confusion.

‘Come, page,’ he said, ‘we must be on our way. We have to reach the coast somehow and take ship for England. There are just the two of us which is not a bad thing, for none would suspect a king would travel with just one servant. I doubt not you are as hungry as I am. We will ride on and perhaps find food somewhere.’

The page brought his master’s horse and they started off.

For three days they travelled, living as they could. Richard would wait outside a town in a thicket, if that were possible, while the page went and bought food. They rode through the day and slept from exhaustion in fields and woods and on the third day they came to a city.

Richard did not realise that this city was Vienna and that he was in the heart of that territory which belonged to his bitterest enemy, Leopold of Austria.

‘Now,’ he said, ‘we must find a humble lodging and there we shall rest for a while before pursuing our journey. While we stay we will find out where we are and what direction we should take. But first we must rest and eat to sustain ourselves after these days of hardship.’

The page had grown closer to his master than he had ever been and was filled with pride to think that fate had chosen him to be the one to accompany King Richard on this perilous journey.

They found a humble lodging on the outskirts of the town where no questions were asked when they explained they just needed a room. Richard told the woman of the house that he was a merchant and dealt in fine objects. This would allay her suspicions if she saw any of the treasures he had managed to bring with him. He told her that he and his servant would like to stay for a week or so for they were tired with travelling and still had far to go. When he asked her the name of the nearby city she told him it was Vienna.

‘Ah,’ said Richard, ‘that would belong to Leopold of Austria.’

‘He is our noble Duke,’ said the woman.

Richard smiled inwardly recalling that occasion when he had kicked the fellow for refusing to help build a city’s walls. What would he say if he knew the King of England was now travelling through his realm?

He was determined this time not to betray himself and prepared to learn the ways of humble folk. He found he enjoyed talking to the woman and her husband. He could speak their language tolerably well and he took an interest in their way of life. He would sit in the kitchen while the woman baked and would watch her and chat while she worked. She took to giving him little tasks and he was often set to turn the meat as it roasted.

He was recovering from the three days spent in riding fast and picking up food where it could be found. He was strong but he always had to remember that that virulent fever could overtake him at any time and he must always be prepared for it.

The page penetrated deeper into the town to find where he could find food. He would take some article which Richard gave him and sell it. One of these articles was the jewelled belt – a beautiful thing most delicately wrought and which had often been admired when Richard wore it, which was often. He was sorry to part with it; yet it was necessary to pay for food and lodging.

In the market place it was inevitable that the page should be noticed. The goldsmith to whom he sold the belt had rarely seen such a fine piece of workmanship. He talked of it and showed it to certain of his noble customers. It was bought by one who was most curious about it.

Who was this young man who came every day and spent so lavishly?

One of the traders said to him: ‘You are clearly a gentleman of quality.’

‘I serve a greater,’ boasted the page.

‘Who is this rich and noble gentleman?’

‘He is a merchant.’

They talked of him when he was not there and watched for him.

The page greatly enjoyed the sensation he made. He was so proud to be serving the King. One day he took one of the King’s gloves which was very richly embroidered and stuck it in his belt before he went into the market.

There was one man leaning against a stall who watched him. He swaggered up to him and said: ‘That is a fine glove, my man.’

‘Is it not?’ answered the page.

‘And not yours I’ll swear. How come you to be wearing it?’

‘It is my master’s,’ answered the page. ‘I wear it because I am proud to be in his service.’

‘Where is this master of yours?’

‘He is making a journey and resting here but a while.’

‘A rich merchant is he not?’

‘Aye, ’tis so,’ answered the page.

The man took the glove and studied it intently.

‘A royal glove, I’d say,’ he commented.

The page snatched it from him and sticking it in his belt did not stop to buy what he had come for. He was terrified that he had betrayed his master.

Hurrying back to the lodging he found the King in the kitchen talking to the woman of the house. He signed that he must speak to him without delay and Richard went to the small room they shared.

‘Sire, we must fly without delay. They know who you are.’

‘How can they know that? You did not tell anyone?’

‘Nay, Sire. I never would. But they watch me. They ask me questions about my master.’

‘And you told them I am a merchant.’

‘Yes, I told them that.’

‘Well, since they are asking questions, we must be wary. We will make our plans to leave within a few days.’

‘But, master . . .’

‘You are trembling. Why should they guess who I am? They but think me a merchant. If we left too hurriedly they would be suspicious. Nay, since they are curious about you, do not go to the market today. Go tomorrow and buy what we need. Then we will be off and I will tell these people that I am ready to pursue my journey within the next few days.’

The page was terribly apprehensive. He dared not confess that he had worn the royal glove in his belt and that it had been seized and studied by a man who had asked if his master was royal.

When the page next went to the market he was aware of two men who followed him. He paused at a stall and they came up beside him.

‘Who are you?’ he stammered.

‘You will discover. Come with us.’

‘Nay, I cannot. I have to buy and return to my master.’

His arms were seized and he was dragged from the stall.

He was taken into a building where men sat at a board on trestles. Those who had seized him took him to this board and held him while one of the men with a hard cruel face smiled at him. It was a smile which made the page feel as though a snake was coiling itself about him.