There were several possibilities.

William the Marshall guessed what dangerous thoughts were going on in the young King’s mind.

He wondered whether he could speak to Marguerite about his anxieties. The young Queen, since she had become pregnant, had become serene and more mature. She loved her husband. There was a great deal to love in Henry. He could be very charming when he wished and his appearance was very much in his favour. When he entered a room people would have known him for a prince if they had been completely unaware of his identity. He was said to be the handsomest prince in Christendom and if now and then he wore an expression of discontent this was not always the case.

William, who had known him from a child, when he had been knight-at-arms to the royal children, had until recently been closer to Henry than to his friends; he was much older and infinitely wiser, and he deplored the way in which the young King’s character was developing; and most of all he regretted his attitude to his father.

He went to Marguerite who was taking a little exercise in the gardens, as she had been advised to do, in order to ensure an easy confinement. When he joined her the two ladies who were accompanying her dropped behind and William walked side by side with the young Queen.

After inquiring about her health he brought up the subject of her husband and told her that he believed Henry was getting restive.

‘But he is so delighted at the prospect of having a son,’ she answered.

‘He is indeed. But I do very much fear that the conflict between him and his father will grow, and I would give a great deal to prevent that.’

‘The King is determined to prevent Henry from having any power, and that maddens Henry.’

‘In time the King might change his mind.’

‘Henry thinks he never will. He gets so angry that the King should treat him like a child.’

‘Will you try to placate him? I think if he will but be patient a while the King may change. In any case no good can be served by whipping up his anger against his father. My lady, will you try to make him see this? You can talk to him more easily than any. We both love him dearly and his good is our great concern. I know it is useless for him to plot against his father. That is not the way to achieve what he wants.’

‘I will try to speak to him,’ said Marguerite.

So earnestly were they talking together that they did not see the approach of Henry himself.

‘How now?’ he cried. ‘What is this I see? My friends and my wife sharing secrets!’

‘I was inquiring for the Queen’s health,’ said William.

‘Which you see is good.’

Henry fell into step beside them. ‘I long for the day when my son is born,’ he said; and the sulky expression was no longer on his face.

He is indeed the handsomest of princes, thought William. I would to God he were the happiest.

But he was happy enough walking with William and his wife and talking to them of plans for the future of his unborn son.

The prospect of becoming a father had by no means turned Henry’s thoughts from rebellion. Rather had it made him more than ever determined.

Plans began to form in his mind and he was often in the company of men who were known to be hostile to his father.

William the Marshall was not the only one who was uneasy. Adam of Churchdown, a man of mature years, could also see what was happening and asked himself what he should do about it.

He owed his allegiance to young Henry’s father. Moreover, he was fully aware that any insurgents whom Henry might succeed in arousing could do little good for any length of time against the superior forces and generalship of the older Henry.

It occurred to him that if he could send a message of warning to the King in England of what was happening, he would know how to deal with it. He therefore called a messenger to him, gave him a letter and told him to make all speed to the coast and not to give up the letter into any hands but those of the King.

He had worded the letter carefully. He considered it was no treason to young Henry; it was merely to put the King on his guard and Adam knew that he would act in such a manner as to curb young Henry’s rebellious activities and thus save him from disaster.

Alas for Adam, his messenger fell into the hands of one of those knights who hated the King of England and was eager to support his son in rebellion.

The messenger and the message were brought before the young King and when Henry read what Adam had written his rage was great.

‘Bring Adam of Churchdown to me,’ he cried.

Adam, standing before him, realised what had happened. This was disaster. Under the tuition of Philip of Flanders, he knew that his master had become ruthless, and he could expect little mercy.

‘So you are a traitor,’ spat out Henry.

‘Not so, my lord. I have only your good at heart.’

It was the worst thing he could have said. How often had Henry heard the words: ‘It is for your own good.’ He was heartily sick of being treated like a child. He was a man and a king at that, he would have them know.

He thought of the knightly Walter of Les Fontaines and he cried: ‘Take this man out, divest him of his clothes and whip him through the streets. Let it be known that this is my way with traitors. Proclaim to all that he sought to spy for my father. I have trusted him in the past and I had counted him my friend but this is how I deal with traitors. And when he has been whipped through these streets take him to the Castle of Argentan and there cast him into a dungeon. But in every town through which you pass he shall be whipped in the street and proclaimed as a traitor to King Henry of England, Duke of Normandy and Count of Anjou.’

When Adam had been taken away William the Marshall came to the young King.

‘I beg of you to consider what you are doing.’

‘God’s eyes, William,’ retorted Henry, ‘remember to whom you speak lest the like should happen to you.’

William turned away with a shrug of his shoulders. ‘Oh, yes, I know full well,’ went on Henry, ‘that you are nobly born and the nephew of the Earl of Salisbury. I know that you will say that you have been my friend from childhood. But I will not countenance traitors. Adam is one and he shall suffer for it because he deserves it and because he shall show an example to all others.’

‘He did what he did for your good.’

‘Stop that!’ screamed the King. ‘I am not your pupil, now, William Marshall. Take care I say. Take care all traitors.’

William went sadly away. The situation was becoming more and more dangerous. He thought, as many had before him, that the old King had made the gravest mistake of his reign when he had had his son crowned King of England.

Was it not inevitable that there must be disastrous conflict when two kings possessed the same crown?

THE KING’S STRATEGY

Alice was back in Westminster; Richard was in Aquitaine; and she trusted the King to keep her safe with him.

As for Henry he found it very pleasant to be in England. There he could visit Alice frequently and see more of his son John. The desire to be a good father, and to have the affection of his children was becoming an obsession with him. He had lost almost all hopes of the elder ones but there were however, the two younger members of his family – Joanna and John – and he was trying hard to win from them the love and regard which the others had denied him.

He could blame their mother and he did. Let her fret out her days in the prison of his choosing; she had shown that she only had to appear to make trouble. He was certain that the importuning of Louis for the marriage of Alice and Richard was Eleanor’s work. He had been shaken as he rarely had ever been when he discovered that she knew of the relationship between him and Alice. Could it be that she had told Louis the truth? No, not that. He would have been horrified. That would offend his pious soul and he would never keep quiet about it. But she had prodded him in some way, he was sure.