The Story Continues

Although it was the most well-known, the French countessa's story wasn't the first nor the last such sordid story involving the Henry and his treatment of the fairer sex. That alone was enough to convince Bartholomew that The Black Prince's claim the throne must be countered. It was not so much Henry's illegitimacy that bothered Bartholomew so much as the fact that he was truly a bastard in every other sense of the word.

Bartholomew wanted to claim his stake and planned to visit the king on his deathbed to plead his case immediately. He had tried to do so before, stymied by the grieving king who refused to hold court. But news of the Black Prince's arrival here at Castle Gerard meant Bartholomew had to act.

If it wasn't too late.

Bartholomew saw the black banners which flew next to those of the king. His heart sank.

Bartholomew had arranged a banquet for the visit from the king which he had got notice of just two days before. Even with the late notice, the great hall had been freshly painted and new tapestries hung from the walls. The floor had been swept and fresh straw placed on the floor.

Matilda who was Bartholomew's wife had been sick for over a year and now rarely left the bedchamber. So, it was his young daughter Christine who was going to be at the Baron's side… and play host. It was to be her court debut.

The Black Prince' Arrival.

A watchman stepped up to Bartholomew. "Thirty horsemen at least, coming from the east. A train of at least twice that number of men."

"Aye. About that."

"The black banners, my liege?"

"Bad news, that's what it is."

Bartholomew would have been tempted to raise the drawbridge, but the royal standard flew alongside the banners which meant he couldn't.

As Bartholomew watched the horsemen approach, it was time for diplomacy rather than the sword.

-

At the gatehouse Bartholomew met Henry, The Black Prince, who was at the head of his men. All of which, Bartholomew noticed, were heavily armed. "I'm sorry, I didn't know of your impending visit until your messenger arrived last eve. I was expecting the King. No mention of yourself."

"I could say it is the King who has arrived. But then again, I wouldn't want to get ahead of myself. But my ascendancy is a formality." Bartholomew had already spotted the Archbishop of Whitebridge at the head of the train who must have been representing the King, hence the King's standard.

"I see you have the approval of the church." This was unfortunate, but there was little he could do about it. He turned his attention to Prince Henry careful to not let himself be distracted by the scar on the prince's cheek and the pain of the whole situation with Godfrey.

"I don't come to boast or gloat, Sir Bartholomew." Henry's smug smile belied his polite claim. "I desire peace and mutual respect. I came here to discuss how you and I will achieve this." Bartholomew had to concede that the words were honorable and fair, and for the first time since hearing of Prince Henry's intended visit he felt a stirring of hope.

"Good. Let's discuss the purpose of your visit in the banquet hall."