‘Get out,’ screamed Rufus.

When he had gone he looked at Ranulf and his anger faded suddenly. They began to laugh.

‘We must devise some plan,’ said Ranulf, ‘for teasing your naughty Archbishop for there is no doubt that good as he may be in the service of the mock Pope, he is bad for my lord’s temper.’

‘He is an obstinate man,’ mused Rufus. ‘He will go on demanding the return of these lands and I shall continue to refrain from giving them to him. As for his pallium, he’ll not go to Urban for it. And what care I if he has no pallium at all? He can dispense with all his churchman’s robes for all I care. Although I fancy he would be far from handsome without them.’

‘Not of a kind to tempt my lord to the pleasure of the flesh.’

‘Be silent, fool. That man has plagued me too much. I have matters of moment to think of.’

‘And I see they do not include the naked Anselm. You should rid yourself of him. Send him back to Normandy and find an archbishop who knows that the King is King and will have no one gainsay it.’

‘These churchmen are too powerful. I see conflict ahead. Who is to rule—the King or the Pope?’

‘For a man who fears hell’s torments it is indeed a problem, but you, my lord, have few such fears.’

‘Nay. I was brought up to be a Christian but I never took to it. I like better the gods of my more distant ancestors. Odin the All father, Thor with his hammer, Valhalla, Ranulf, where men feasted and made love according to their inclination. That is a way more to my fancy. And in my heart, Ranulf, I doubt that their heaven awaits these Christians. And if it is peopled by such as Anselm who would want to go there?’

‘Not you. Not I.’

‘So I’ll make sure of my pleasure here and if they are right and hell fire awaits me, I must needs endure it. Now this Anselm would call together a council. If they decide he shall go to Rome to collect his pallium they defy me. I’ll not have that, Ranulf. My father never would. And nor shall I. I will make known my anger to the men who form this council. I’ll warrant you, Ranulf, they will not dare to go against me.’

‘Then,’ said Ranulf, ‘we must wait and see.’

* * * * *

It was an uneasy council that met at Rockingham. Rufus had made it clear to all those concerned that his fury would be aroused if it supported Anselm. All knew that the outcome of Rufus’s anger could be violent and it was greatly feared. On the other hand many of them felt that their souls could be imperilled if they supported the King against the Archbishop.

Anselm declared that he would obey the King and serve him well except where his actions would be in conflict with the Pope.

‘Who governs this land?’ roared Rufus. ‘Is it the King of England or the Pope of Rome?’

He ordered the council to rid him of Anselm.

This however could not be done without the consent of the Pope. Anselm had taken the crozier during a solemn ceremony. He was the Archbishop of Canterbury and only the Pope could depose him. Anselm, calm in the face of the storm, and, as the King said, stubborn as a mule, declared that the only course open to him was to appeal to the Pope.

‘Rid me of him,’ cried Rufus. ‘This man is a traitor.’

But the barons and churchmen replied that they could not pass sentence of deposition on a man who was ecclesiastically their superior.

* * * * *

Alone with Ranulf the King gave vent to his rage.

‘This land,’ he said, ‘is governed by the Pope, not by the King. I swear I will not countenance that. My father never did and nor shall I. Anselm! There will be trouble while he remains here. Would I had never kept him here. I would I had sent him back to Bee’

‘Alas, my lord, but he is here and here he will stay until this Pope displaces him.’

‘In my own kingdom, Ranulf! My own kingdom!’

‘There are herbs that are tasteless in wine.’

‘I know it well. But this is not the way with a man such as this. I want him removed in a manner which will arouse no suspicion. How Ranulf? How?’

They pondered it for long but could come to no satisfactory conclusion; and it was Urban himself who came to their aid.

Under the Conqueror, England had become a power of some importance and Urban chafed that he had not received recognition from that land. His spies kept him well informed of what was happening there and he sent a messenger to the King, implying that he might be willing to help him in return for recognition.

Rufus laughed when he received this letter. It appealed to his sense of humour that he should see a way out of his dilemma through the Pope himself.

As a gesture of his willingness to come to terms, Urban sent the pallium to England with instructions that it should be placed on the high altar at Canterbury. Thus he had delivered it neither to the King nor to the Archbishop and the controversy had been solved in a most delicate manner.

It was true that Anselm, by the consent of all concerned, took the pallium and continued in office, but the Pope had intimated to the King that he would be willing to work in secret to bring about his desires providing of course he was satisfactorily rewarded.

* * * * *

One of the pages came to tell the King that Alan of Bretagne had come from Rumsey.

‘Bring him to me,’ said Rufus, and in an aside to Ranulf who was his constant companion at this time: ‘He has been inspecting the Atheling girl. What did he find, I wonder?’

Alan bowed and the King said: ‘Well, brother, so you are impatient for a wife and have found one to your liking.’

‘I have, my lord.’

‘So there is to be a wedding in the family?’

‘If you give your consent, my lord.’

‘And why should I not? It was always my father’s wish to pump good Norman blood into the Saxons.

‘So I am to have the girl?’

‘Have her. Take her back to Normandy and let me know when you get your first boy. Better luck than with my sister.’

Alan hesitated. ‘There may be some barriers set up by the Abbess.’

‘That Abbess! She is Edgar’s sister. She has too high an opinion of her royalty, I think.’

‘Indeed so,’ replied Alan. ‘She was anxious to show me that she was the ruler of her Abbey.’

‘Under the King, I hope.’

‘I doubt she recognizes that. She may try to stop the marriage.’

‘When I have consented.’

‘She may try but with your consent I’ll marry the Princess in a week or so.’

‘May she give you all you want,’ said Rufus.

‘Now I have my lord’s consent that matter is settled,’ said Alan.

‘You should ride back to Rumsey to tell the happy girl what is in store for her.’

‘When I have celebrated my victory, I shall do so.’

Left alone with Ranulf, Rufus said: ‘If only it were possible to deal as easily with Anselm as with my brother Alan!’

‘Alan is easily satisfied. A good bedfellow and a cask of wine will do for him. Anselm wants power and that is in truth another matter. You have no wish for the girl nor the wine—so he can have them. But the power is yours and not to be shared. Oh, never fear, my King, we’ll settle Master Anselm— ay, and before the Princess begins to grow large with Alan’s seed if need be.’

* * * * *

Alan of Bretagne was very pleased with himself. He had the King’s consent to his marriage. The girl was personable— young and royal. Her brother had now become King of Scotland. This marriage would be almost as advantageous as his first.

He sat drinking with the company he had brought with him from Normandy. It grew late as he enlivened the company with stories of his prowess both as a soldier and lover.

His little Scottish Princess had a treat in store.

The stories grew more wild and more ribald as the evening progressed and again and again Alan’s goblet was filled.

‘Well, my friends,’ he said, ‘it is time I left for Rumsey. The Princess will be anxious. She’ll think I’m never coming to claim her.’