This he utterly refuted.

It was well known, he replied, that the Old Man of the Mountains was responsible for that deed because Conrad had intercepted his ships and robbed them off the coast of Tyre. It was only slander which had brought the charge against him because he had supported Guy de Lusignan as candidate for the crown of Jerusalem. He had however agreed to accept Conrad. Why should he then murder him, for his murder had not put Guy on the throne, for Henry of Champagne had that honour.

This seemed reasonable and the assembly was swayed in favour of Richard.

The French representative in the assembly rose to declare that Richard was guilty of treason against his feudal lord, Philip of France.

Richard laughed so loudly that his laughter echoed through the hall.

‘I . . . accused of treason!’ cried Richard. ‘My lords, if there is one guilty of treason that is the King of France. He has sworn friendship with me. We vowed to go together to the Holy Land. He broke his vow. He could not endure the hardships. They brought him near to death, he swears; and he returned to France and planned to rob my kingdom and my dukedom while I continued to act in accordance with the vow I took with the King of France. Is this treason to Philip? Nay, my lords, Philip is the one who is guilty of treason, of breach of friendship, of broken vows and promises. He has taken advantage of one who believed himself to be his friend. Think of his actions during my absence. Is he a man of honour? Come, my lords, search your consciences and do not speak to me of my lack of loyalty to the King of France.’

There was murmuring in the hall. They must agree with him. He was right. The King of France had betrayed him and what sort of man was it who attacked another’s dominions while he was away engaged in a holy war?

There were followers of Leopold of Austria who related that Richard had insulted their flag. He had torn it down from the walls of Acre and stamped on it. Was this not an act of treachery against a good friend who had fought side by side with him in the conquest of the city?

‘My lord,’ said Richard, ‘this was no single triumph. This was the triumph of the Christian army. In such an undertaking there are certain to be conflicts between nations. As commander of the army it was my duty to suppress this. The Duke of Austria was arrogant, not ready to work with the rest of us. When I myself repaired the walls of the cities with my men, the Duke of Austria declared himself too noble to work with us. I am the son of a King, my lords, yet I could work side by side with my men, share their hardships, show myself to be one of them. It is necessary in an army. It is not good for that army to see among them those who are too proud to share in the task and then would take the glory. I did what you accused me of and, by God, I would do it again.’

It was not only his words, it was that aura of nobility and almost superhuman power, his exceptional good looks, his tall commanding figure, which made Henry realise it had been a mistake to bring him to face his judges. The accusations should have been made in his absence.

But Henry was shrewd. He knew he had lost so he went to Richard and embraced him.

‘I see,’ he cried, ‘that the King of England has been falsely accused and I believe this assembly to be in agreement with me.’

There were cries of agreement and cheers.

Now I shall go home and set my affairs in order, thought Richard.

But Henry was not going to relinquish his prize so easily. Richard might be innocent of the charges brought against him; Pope Celestine might declare it was not right for the Emperor to detain him, but the Emperor saw that there was money to be gained and he shook his head over Richard and murmured that it was only proper that if the English wished their King to return they must be prepared to pay for the privilege.

Richard was therefore conducted to the castle of Trifels, a suitable place for a King to be held to ransom. Trifels had been built on a hill surrounded by wooded mountains; there was no town within miles, the nearest dwellings being in the village of Anweiler. Richard was treated with respect; comforts were provided for him; he had his page to sing and play to him and William de l’Estang as a companion. But he was surrounded by an even stronger guard than he had had at Durenstein. At least, however, thanks to faithful Blondel it was known where he was and he could rely on his mother to do everything within her power to bring about his release.

The bargaining began and went on for months. Philip was urging the Emperor not to release Richard. He wondered what they would say to each other if they were to come face to face again. How Richard would revile him! He would never understand that he reviled himself. What was it, this desire to destroy that which in a way he loved and yet he hated? Richard would never understand the complex feelings of the King of France.

Meanwhile Henry of Germany was determined to make the best of his bargain.

He visited Richard and they talked together.

Richard was his prisoner, he pointed out. He had bought the right to hold him from Leopold of Austria who had good reason to hate him; and he must have something for his pains. What would Richard think of handing him the crown of England in exchange for his freedom?

‘I’d rather you took my life,’ retorted Richard.

‘You should have the crown back,’ temporised the Emperor, ‘and hold it as my vassal.’

Richard laughed at the thought.

‘What of seventy thousand marks of silver?’

‘That’s a great deal,’ said Richard. ‘Dost think my people would consider me worth as much?’

‘They would seem loyal at this time. They regard you as the hero of the crusades. They might think it worth the price to have you back and so avoid the crown’s going to John.’

‘Then let us see if they will raise it.’

‘The daughter of the Emperor of Cyprus is detained by you. She is the niece of the Duchess of Austria and should be given to her aunt to be brought up.’

‘That can be done,’ said Richard.

‘To show friendship with the Duke of Austria whom you insulted on the walls of Acre his son should have for wife your niece the maid of Brittany sister to that Arthur whom you have named your heir.’

‘That should also be done,’ replied Richard.

‘Then all that is left is to raise the money.’

‘It will take time,’ said Richard.

‘That is to be expected.’

‘You cannot hold me here for years. Let us say that when the first instalment is made I am allowed to go.’

This was agreed on and Richard in his chamber at Trifels waited eagerly for release.

Eleanor was indefatigable. How could she raise the first instalment of the ransom which was necessary for Richard’s release?

Nothing and no one must be spared. Every knight must contribute twenty shillings. Every town and hamlet must pay its due. Every man who had anything to give must give it. The abbeys and churches were to give their silver plate but Eleanor swore it would only be as a loan and the articles should later be restored to the churches. The monks were to give the wool from their sheep. No one must be spared.

Once the King was back there would be prosperity in the land. But the King must return.

The money was paid and there was no longer any excuse to keep Richard prisoner. He set out from the Castle of Trifels on his way to England.

William de l’Estang was uneasy, as Richard himself was.

‘I’ll not feel safe,’ said Richard, ‘until I am free of the Emperor’s domains.’

Even so he refused to show any sign of haste and paused in Cologne to receive the Mass which was given in his honour.