The Dragon and the Jewel by Virginia Henley Page A

the king’s presence because none had had courage enough to ask for his weapons. It was only when Simon de Montfort smiled and held out a massive arm that they realized he was a young man, not much older than the king.
    His voice was deep-timbered as it rumbled up from his massive chest. “Congratulations, sire, I hear you are just returned from a successful campaign in Wales.” Simon had shrewdly guessed the weaker of the two brothers was the king.
    Henry laughed nervously, flattered to receive a compliment from the champion warrior. “If I’d had a sword like yours, my lord, I might have vanquished the foe sooner.”
    Simon immediately unbuckled the double-edged weapon and presented it to Henry. Not wishing to slight the Duke of Cornwall, he untied the knife strapped to his thigh. It was no jewel-encrusted showpiece, but a deadly dagger, ten inches in length, its handle lovingly bound in leather so that when gripped by astrong palm it became an extension of the hand that wielded it. As they drew the weapons from their sheaths, all three men shared a moment of zeal that only glorious battle could generate. They tasted bloodlust on their tongues and experienced such a rush in their veins they all three became sexually aroused. The young men laughed because they knew their momentary reaction was mutually shared.
    Simon did not wait for the king to address him. “I am here to offer you my services.”
    “You would swear fealty to me?” Henry asked in disbelief.
    “What do you seek in return?” a more astute Richard asked.
    “Only that which is mine by right,” Simon said in an implacable voice. “My family came with the Norman conquerors and fought at Hastings. My grandsire wed an English heiress and became the Earl of Leicester. When your father lost Normandy to France, it became necessary for my father to choose which king and country to serve. When he elected to serve France, King John confiscated all his lands and honors in England and put these estates and the earldom of Leicester in the hands of Ranulf of Chester to be held in trust for us. You have just reconfirmed Chester with my earldom, and I am here to formally protest it.”
    Richard was well versed in the ancestry of the Norman nobility. “I agree the earldom of Leicester belongs to Simon de Montfort, but that is your father, I believe.”
    “My father was killed in battle wiping out the Albigenses from Toulouse. My elder brother has just been appointed Constable of France. Since I do not wish to spend the rest of my life at my brother’s throat, we came to an agreement. I renounced all claim to the continental possessions of the family in exchange for whatever I could salvage in England.”
    The Plantagenets could only admire his blunt honesty. He did not dissemble, but asked outright for what he wanted.
    “And if you do not get what you want by asking?” Richard inquired.
    A wolfish grin spread across Simon’s face. Henry interpreted. “You take it.”
    “I am a soldier of fortune. I stand before you without money,land, or title. What I do have is ambition—and I am in a hurry,” he added with a disarming smile.
    The steward came in accompanied by two servants laboring under trays of food. Richard was thankful the man had sense enough to order something substantial, for their guest must surely have an enormous appetite. Simon accepted their hospitality and the three were seated at a table laden with meat and game, accompanied by fresh baked loaves and tankards of good English ale.
    “If it was in my power I would restore your earldom today, but it is not so simple,” explained the king. “Chester wields enormous power. I cannot offend him by demanding back your lands and title, at least not yet. But Ranulf of Chester is no longer a young man. When he dies, I will see that what is yours reverts to you. I’m sorry it seems so hopeless.”
    Simon quaffed his ale, seemingly unperturbed.
    “Why do you prefer England to France?” Richard