When she had gone Thomas forgot her. He had matters of State to ponder on and he could not help but return to the constant question of the Archbishopric of Canterbury.

The next day Avice came again. She found it difficult to pray, she said. Would Thomas teach her?

Thomas, who never turned a supplicant away, said he would pray with her and again advised her to sell her worldly goods and go into a convent.

She used all her wiles, she admitted that she had been the mistress of the King, a fact which aroused Thomas’s interest. She came close to him as she talked and the musk smell with which she scented her clothes was pleasant to him. She was a very attractive woman and cleverly skilled in all the arts of seduction. How easily Henry would have succumbed.

He sighed, thinking of the weaknesses of the King, and marveled that a man so strong, so able a ruler, so determined on getting his will could yet so easily be tempted.

When Avice left Vivien spoke to her. She was smiling as though well pleased with herself.

She must be coming this night, thought the clerk, for the court was moving on the next day and tonight was the only time it could be.

Thomas returned to his chamber and all was quiet.

It was midnight when the King arrived. He was wrapped in a concealing cloak so that none would guess his identity.

Vivien came to the door holding high a horn lantern. The King stepped into the house.

‘The Chancellor is here?’ he asked.

‘Yes, my lord,’ said Vivien. ‘In his bedchamber. I’ll warrant he is not alone.’

‘Go to his room,’ said the King. ‘Do not knock on the door. Throw it open and see what you find.’

Vivien took the horn lantern and mounted the stairs silently. Gently he opened the door of Thomas’s bedchamber. He shone the light of the horn lantern round the room.

The bed was empty!

Vivien felt exultant. The plot had worked. If Thomas’s bed was empty then he must be sleeping elsewhere and where? In Avice’s bed. How delighted the King would be.

Henry was standing behind him.

‘What?’ he whispered.

‘He is not here, my lord. He is sleeping elsewhere this night.’

‘I know where,’ cried the King and then he stopped short.

For kneeling at the bed in a deep sleep, his face pale and drawn in the light from the horn lantern, was Thomas.

The King stared at him for some moments and a great tenderness came over his face. He put his finger to his lips and with a nod of his head ordered Vivien to proceed downstairs.

‘He has fallen asleep over his prayers,’ he said. ‘Why did I ever think I could catch a man like Thomas? He can never be caught for this simple reason, that he would never fall into temptation.’

Richard de Luci with the Bishops of Exeter and Chichester called on Thomas. They talked to him long and earnestly. They believed that his duty lay clearly before him. He had the King’s confidence. Henry would listen to him as to no other man. The Church needed him. The See of Canterbury had remained vacant too long. Clearly it was the duty of Thomas Becket to take the robes of office.

The King had determined that he should; and now the members of the clergy were in agreement with the King. Thomas knew that the easy happy friendship with the King must decline. His mode of life must change. Yet the challenge had come and he knew he must take it. Thomas gave his promise that he would accept the King’s offer and become the Archbishop of Canterbury.

Chapter XI

THE RISING STORM

In his castle of Falaise the King talked with his wife and mother and the subject of their discourse was the new Archbishop of Canterbury.

Matilda, now showing her age but as fiery as ever, was repeating what she had said many times before which was to the effect that her son had made a great mistake when he had chosen Thomas Becket.

Eleanor shrugged her shoulders. Becket did not greatly interest her but she did deplore Henry’s obsession with the man which was now spreading to their son Henry. When she had last met the child he had shown his adoration for the Archbishop and seemed to look up to him as a divine being. It was all very tiresome, but better, she thought, that the King should spend his time with a man like Becket than to be sporting with all kinds of women.

‘Nay, my lady,’ he replied to his mother. ‘I could not have made a better choice. Becket and I understand each other.

He has been a good Chancellor and when the Chancellor and the Archbishop of Canterbury are one and the same you will see how easy it is for us to carry out our plans.’

‘I shall pray that it is so,’ said Matilda. ‘But there has always been trouble between the Kings and the Church.

The Church wants to take power from the State and it is for the Kings to see that they do not. In appointing this man as head of your Church you have put unlimited power into his hands.’

‘Becket wielded great power as Chancellor,’ said the King. ‘I found him easy to handle then.’

‘The King and his Chancellor, were inseparable,’ said Eleanor.

‘I could never understand this friendship with such a man,’ put in Matilda. ‘A merchant’s son! It puzzles me.’

‘Believe me,’ said Henry, ‘there is no man in England more cultured.’

‘It is impossible,’ snapped Matilda. ‘You deceive yourself.’

‘I do not. He is a man of great learning, and has a natural nobility.’

‘The King loves him as though he were a woman,’ put in Eleanor scornfully.

Henry threw a venomous glance in her direction. Why did she take sides with his mother against him? Ever since he had put young Geoffrey in the nursery she had manifested this dislike of him.

‘I esteem him as a friend,’ corrected Henry angrily. ‘There was never any other of my servants who could amuse me as that man did.’

‘And not content with making him your Chancellor you must give him the chief archbishopric in the kingdom as well.’

‘My mother, my wife! This is politics. This is statecraft. My Chancellor is my Archbishop. My Chancellor must be loyal to the State and since my Archbishop is also my Chancellor how can he go against that which is beneficial to the State?’

‘So this is your idea of bringing the Church into submission to the State,’ said Matilda. ‘I hope it works.’

‘Fear not, Mother. It will work.’

‘Your Archbishop is indeed a worldly man.’ Eleanor turned to Matilda. ‘You will know that this man lives in unsurpassed splendour. He maintains seven hundred knights and the trappings of his horses are covered in gold and silver. I heard that he receives the highest in the land.’

‘And as Chancellor so he should,’ retorted the King.

‘An upstart,’ said Matilda. ‘Having been born humble he must continually let people know how noble he has become.’

‘You, my dear Mother, were born royal but I believe you never allowed any to forget your nobility.’

‘Oh, but this fellow was quite ostentatious,’ said Eleanor.

‘I have heard it said that he lived more splendidly than you ever did.’

Henry laughed indulgently. ‘He has a taste for such luxury. As you say he was not born to it but acquired it. Therefore he prized it.’

‘He has bewitched you,’ Eleanor told him.

He gave her a glance of distaste. Why did she bait him? She was jealous he knew. So she still had some feeling for him. She had disliked his friendship with Becket almost as much as she hated his love affairs.

She went on to discuss the extravagances of Becket. ‘At his banquets there must be every rarity. I heard that he paid seventy-five pounds for a dish of eels.’

‘One hears this gossip,’ said the King. ‘If Thomas was extravagant it was to do me honour. He is my Chancellor and I remember when he went to France in great state it was said that I must indeed be a wealthy man since my Chancellor traveled as he did.’