Urged by Eleanor Henry decided that he was in a position to launch an attack on Toulouse and bring it where Eleanor had long decided it should be – all ied with Aquitaine, in the possession of that province’s Duke and Duchess.

He had the Vexin to safeguard Normandy; England was well governed by his justiciary the Earl of Leicester, and he sent Chancellor Becket to England to raise a company of knights and bring them into France. He was sure that little effort would be necessary to subdue Raymond of Toulouse.

Louis hated war; he would stand aside and all Henry would have to do was take a castle or two to assure Raymond of his strength.

Henry had underestimated Louis and it was an unpleasant surprise to learn that the King of France refused to remain aloof. He had a family tie with Raymond who had married his sister; moreover the Count of Toulouse was one of his vassals. It was a fact that Henry Plantagenet was becoming too overbearing – and in consequence it seemed too powerful. Louis was aware that a stop would have to be made to such headlong progress and declared that he would go to the help of his brother-in-law.

Henry was nonplussed. He had no desire to go to war against the King of France; he could see a major engagement developing; it would never do for him to defeat the King of France. Nor would it do for the King of France to defeat him. He could not take over France. There would be endless trouble if he did. He would be fighting in France for the rest of his life.

But what could he do? He had declared war on Raymond of Toulouse. Becket had arrived with his array of knights and the King of Scotland had offered to come to his aid.

Uncertainly he marched to Toulouse and when the walls of the city were in sight news was brought to him that Louis himself was within.

The King called a halt to his armies. He sent for his Chancellor.

‘This is a sorry state of affairs, Becket,’ he said.

‘Why so, my lord? It was your wish to make war on Toulouse.’

‘I know, I know. But the King of France is within that city.’

‘By being there he declares himself to be an enemy of yours.’

‘What if I were to kill the King of France?’

‘I was thinking, my lord, what if he were to kill you?’

‘Bah! He never would. He’s no soldier. He’ll have no stomach for the fight.’

‘Stomach enough to place himself at the head of his armies and join Raymond of Toulouse against you.’

‘I would I had never begun this. Help me out of it, Thomas. Tell me what I can do now.’

‘The Duke of Normandy is the vassal of the King of France.’

‘Tell me not what I know already.’

‘You have sworn to serve him and accept him as your liege lord. How could you then take up arms against him?’

‘I can and would if so be I had a mind.’

‘Yet you have no heart for this because you ask yourself is it a just fight? My lord, in England many of your subjects have sworn allegiance to you. If you break your word to the suzerain of the Duke of Normandy, others might see it as a precedent and act accordingly towards the King of England. Might not those who have sworn allegiance to you break their vows in similar fashion?’

‘I see what you mean, Thomas.’

‘We can abandon this project. We can walk away from the walls of Toulouse.’

‘And what will be said of that?’

‘That the King of England is an honourable man. Since the King of France takes sides with Raymond of Toulouse, and as Duke of Normandy Henry Plantagenet has sworn allegiance to him, he abandons what would appear to be certain victory for the sake of his honour.’

Henry looked at his Chancellor, narrowed his eyes and burst into his loud laughter.

‘You have it, Thomas. You have it, friend. Did I not always know that you would provide me with the right and righteous answer.’

There was a certain amount of puzzlement regarding the King’s action. Why had he gathered together an army only to take it to the walls of Toulouse, and then lead it away?

Was Henry Plantagenet afraid of the combined forces of Toulouse and France? It was strange, for the advantage was all his.

Speculation as to his inability to succeed was dispersed almost immediately for Louis’s brother Robert, hungry for power, had seized the opportunity to attack Normandy.

Henry had no scruples here. He went straight into the fight and so trounced Robert that he was soon suing for peace.

Thus Henry’s reputation as a man of honour was enhanced with no loss to that as a commander of armies.

It had not been such an unprofitable affair after all. Only Eleanor was frustrated and angry. She had been furious to discover that she was once more pregnant and secretly upbraided herself for allowing this to happen, but she concentrated her reproaches on Henry’s failure to take Toulouse.

‘It is mine,’ she declared. ‘It came to me with my grandfather. You who took England, who took Normandy, could have taken Toulouse.’

Henry shrugged his shoulders. ‘I will take what I want and when I want it,’ he told her.

‘But not Toulouse! You are afraid of the King of France. Afraid of my meek monk Louis!’

‘Rant all you wish,’ said the King. ‘I shall heed you not.’

‘Mayhap,’ retaliated Eleanor, ‘one of these days my sons will be old enough to fight for their mother.’

‘A fine thing to say when you may well be carrying one of them now.’

‘Do not goad me too far, Henry,’ retorted Eleanor, ‘or you will regret it.’

‘You may apply the same to me,’ he retorted.

Her frustration was intolerable. It was unfair that it should always be the woman’s lot to bear the children.

This shall be the last, she promised herself. But had she not said that when Geoffrey was born?

In due course she gave birth to her child in the town of Domfront. She named her Eleanor after herself.

Archbishop Theobald was writing frequently to Thomas.

‘You are still Archdeacon of Canterbury yet we never see you here. What of the affairs of the Church? Do you forget them in your secular duties?’

Thomas told the King of the Archbishop’s requests for his return.

‘Tell the old man I need you with me,’ replied the King.

‘I should doubtless resign my post of Archdeacon.’

‘Nay. ’Tis better for you to remain in the Church.’

‘It is long since I was in Canterbury. I should return, for my old friend and patron grows old. In his last letter he calls himself my spiritual father and prophesies that he has not long for this world. He wishes me to go back to Canterbury before he dies.’

‘You cannot go, Thomas. I need you here. Write to the Archbishop and tell him your King needs his Chancellor.

Who brought your name before me when I needed a Chancellor? Theobald, Archbishop of Canterbury. So he cannot complain now that I took the man he chose for me, and now I expect him to hold his post.’

So Thomas wrote to Theobald and explained to him that he would return as soon as he could leave the King.

Henry smiled secretly. He was determined that Thomas should not have that opportunity. In fact he was wondering how he could bind Thomas more closely to him, for he was enjoying his company more and more. He looked for honours to heap upon him and he decided that he would put his son Henry, the young bridegroom, into his charge.

Already several noblemen had sent their sons into the household of Thomas Becket, where the boys would learn not only book lore but how to behave in a chivalrous and knightly manner. They would learn elegance and courtliness with such a man as Thomas Becket.

‘I shall give my boy Henry into your keeping,’ the King told Thomas. ‘You will bring him up to be honourable, righteous, and at the same time to behave like a king. You will teach him to love the good things of life and at the same time keep his peace with God. A rare combination, my friend. Sometimes methinks only you know the secret.’