In the Field
Arthur was in the field several months with Philip, and though he had to
endure all that powerful warrior’s severe discipline, he fought for him
as valiantly as he would have done for himself. All this time the enemy
remained unsubdued; but at last the King, having cut off all probable
chance of escape, looked for a decisive result. The day for the attack
was fixed, and everything was made ready. On the evening before the
battle, after issuing his orders, the King retired to his tent to read
some letters which a messenger had brought from Paris. The chancellor
urgently entreated him to return, for disorder was spreading, and the
finances were in such desperate condition that he could procure no more
money.
“Ha!” said the King to himself, “how shall we meet the needs of the
Empire? There is but one way. The Jews must empty their pockets. The ban
shall be raised. We expelled them to please the Pope, who is now
secretly plotting with my enemies against me and annoying me in every
way.” The King called for his secretary, but instead of that official a
knight suddenly entered the tent. Recognizing Arthur, he waited for him
to speak.
“Oh, my King,” said Arthur excitedly, “I have had news from my uncle.”
Philip frowned and asked, “What does John want now?”
“My news is not from John; I am speaking of Richard. He is free. He is
no longer a prisoner in the castle of Trifels.”
“How,” interrupted the King, “has the ransom been furnished?”
“He is free,” repeated Arthur; “a deserter from the Netherlands brought
the tidings. Richard has embarked on the Holland coast. They recognized
him, though he went there in disguise.”
“Alone!” said the astonished King. “Oh, the Lion-hearted!”
“Without doubt he has crossed to England,” continued Arthur excitedly,
“and now it is time my King, for me to hasten to his assistance.”
“Thoughtless youth!” broke in Philip, “would you forsake me before the
end of the campaign and ingloriously leave before we know whether
Richard has actually reached his fatherland?”
Arthur grew thoughtful, and retired to consult Höel and Alan. The latter
was eager to go, for he was not enthusiastic in his devotion to Philip;
he would rather have fought for Richard. But Höel twirled his gray
mustache and shook his head. He feared Richard’s rash and unstable
disposition, and knew that he could not be relied upon. “Philip is right
in this matter,” he said. “Let us first dispose of this Fleming; after
that it will be time to think of the other matter.”
The battle was fought the next day, and resulted in the defeat of the
Count of Flanders after a stout resistance. The King himself led his
warriors, sword in hand, in an attack upon the enemy, who were seeking
to hold a bridge. His battle-cry, “Montjoie St. Denis!”[18] spread panic
in the ranks of his foes, and “Plantagenet!” “Plantagenet!” resounded
where Arthur and his knights were fighting.
The victory was won. The enemy were driven over the bridge, and threw
away their arms. The King warmly congratulated Arthur upon his bravery,
but did not grant his request for leave of absence. Arthur reluctantly
submitted rather than make his appearance before Richard as a fugitive
without knights or warriors.
In the meantime Richard reached England; and as soon as he had announced
his presence to his friends he ascended the throne amid popular
rejoicings, John yielding his claim with seeming willingness. About the
same time Philip returned to Paris; Arthur accompanied him, and was so
delighted to see his mother and bride once more that he forgot his
longing to go to Richard.
Banquets and tournaments were arranged by the court, and Arthur, because
of his bravery, was the central figure among all the youthful heroes. So
continuous were the feasts and sports that he hardly had time for
thought.
One morning Alan, equipped and spurred as for a long ride, came to
Arthur’s bedside and woke him, saying, “Richard is in France.”
“Let us hasten to him, then,” said Arthur, springing up.
“You had better not go. It will only occasion needless delay. Let me go
to your uncle,” implored Alan. “I can reach him quickly. He is about to
attack the Duke of Limoges, and is camped with his little army before
the fortress of Chalus. I will tell him all, and if he calls you, you
need no longer hesitate. Let me go, my Prince, and keep my mission a
secret from the court. They are playing false with you, one and all.”
Alan rushed out, and Arthur looked after him in surprise. Only Höel knew
of his son’s undertaking, and he gave out that he had sent him away.
Philip, who was well apprised of what was going on, kept quiet, and only
sought to attach Arthur to him still more closely.
When the entertainment came to an end, Philip left the Louvre to hold
court at Compiègne[19] during the beautiful springtime. How delightful
it was to roam about that great forest! Every day the Princess rode on
her white palfrey, with her falcon attached to her slender wrist, Duke
Arthur riding by her side upon his fiery Arab steed, which had been
given him by the King. A band of companions and servants on foot and on
horse followed them, and the hills and woods resounded with the baying
of hounds and the halloos of hunters. A mystic charm seemed to pervade
the greenwood, which protected them from all contact with the outside
world and made life a happy dream. The Duchess herself seemed to forget
her grief and the insecurity of her affairs, and the King encouraged all
these joyous sports without participating in them.
But suddenly these happy revellers were recalled to the realities of
life by a fearful occurrence. King Richard the Lion-hearted was dead
before Chalus—killed by an arrow. Arthur could not believe the dreadful
news until Alan, pale and exhausted by his hard ride, arrived and
confirmed it. He came from the spot, was with the King when he received
his death wound, and brought his last message of continued faith in
Arthur’s loyalty and uprightness, and his wish that he could once more
see his nephew. But, alas, it was too late now! The great Lion-hearted
was gone, and John mounted the vacant throne.
“Never, so long as I live, will I relinquish my paternal inheritance,”
exclaimed Arthur.