The Autumn Throne by Elizabeth Chadwick Page B

that William’s reply, while courtly, was sincerely meant. Many young men would have taken umbrage at her warning, but he had accepted it in the spirit with which it was meant, and was sufficiently secure in his own manhood not to feel challenged.
    Alienor returned to Sarum after the Easter gathering and prepared to spend another summer on the wind-burned hill top. Harry escorted her there and stayed for three days. He took her hawking on the Downs, which was a rare and wonderful treat, before he rode away to rejoin the tourney life and left her to the confines of the palace.
    The masons continued with their building: plans were afoot to construct another secure tower at the postern end of the complex. Alienor eyed the foundations of the embryo building and wondered at Henry’s desire to strengthen the security at Sarum, since she doubted he was ever going to stay here himself.
    In August, Richard surprised her with a swift visit, arriving in a flurry of coloured silk banners that declared here was a presence to be reckoned with. Neglecting a formal greeting, she flew into his arms and embraced him with a cry that was half joy and half pain.
    His arms were hard and strong as they enfolded her and she clung to him in the utter pleasure of reunion before pushing him away, greedy to take in the whole. ‘Let me look at you!’ She had not seen him for three years and the youth had been completely banished by a tall, beautiful man, his features strongyet refined, his body lithe, with supple power in every movement. He had Henry’s thrust and energy, but tempered with grace because of his height and coordination.
    He smiled at her. ‘Do I meet with your approval, Mama?’
    ‘How could you not?’ Laughing, crying, she hugged him again and then took his arm to lead him towards the keep. ‘But even putting aside my bias as your mother, I would challenge anyone to find fault.’
    ‘Even my father?’ he asked, lifting his brows.
    ‘Why, what has he done now?’
    He shook his head. ‘I was jesting.’ His gaze followed the line of the new curtain wall with thoughtful interest.
    ‘He says it is to bring the defences up to a better standard than they were in the time of his grandsire, but it is oppressive. I know I am prisoner, but this serves to emphasise the detail. He is also building a secure tower apparently, but whether to house me or part of his treasure I know not.’
    They entered the cool interior of the great hall and servants brought refreshment and attended to Richard’s entourage. Someone had already run to the top of the tower to fly his banner from the battlements. Richard removed his light travelling cloak and handed it to a squire.
    ‘So,’ Alienor said, as a servant set down a platter of honey cakes, ‘do you have news for me? I am starved for information here except for what I manage to pick up like a bird pecking crumbs from under the table. Your father isolates me as much as he can. How is Poitou?’
    Richard bit into a honey cake, chewed and swallowed. ‘Still in rebellion, but learning that the harder they press, the more determined I am, and that my resources and tactics are better than theirs. For now there is calm. I do not suppose it will last, but many of the perpetrators have sworn to take up arms in Jerusalem instead.’
    Alienor noted the gleam in his eyes with misgiving. Richard had been a warrior almost from the day he was born, from preference rather than necessity. For him the gauds of thetourney were so much frippery when the true kernel of prowess was on the battlefield.
    ‘They said Taillebourg was impregnable, but it fell,’ he said. ‘I took it and I razed it, and Geoffrey de Rancon knelt to me in surrender.’
    Alienor gave a pragmatic nod. Her bond with the de Rancon family had been close in the past; indeed her tie to Geoffrey’s father was part of the past she would never reveal to anyone. But time and a changing political landscape had frayed the cords and they were not as