The Follies of the King Read Online Free PDF Page B

valley between Reading and Oxford. Gaveston had arranged it and to it he invited all the knights renowned for their chivalry.
    Gaveston was smarting a little from the treatment he had received at the hands of some of the leading barons of the country― men such as Lancaster, Lincoln, Warwick, Surrey, Arundel and Hereford. They had their followers too, and they all showed clearly how much they deplored his friendship with the King. Moreover they were constantly stressing the lowness of his birth— a very sore point with Gaveston who considered himself their superior in every other way. They were never going to let him forget that he was the son of a humble Gascon knight while they belonged to the greatest families in the country. Many of them were royal or connected with royalty and they believed that the King should take his counsellors from their ranks instead of surrounding himself with minions of low birth.
    Gaveston planned to teach them a lesson. He was going to show them that he could outshine them all in that display of chivalry which was considered to be at the very heart of good breeding. He was not only graceful on horseback but there were few who could handle a horse better. Edward said that when he watched Perrot on horseback he could believe he was some mythical creature, half-horse half-man, so well did he and the horse move together.
    The days which preceded the tournament were full of excitement. Edward and Gaveston laughed together at the trick they were going to play on the arrogant barons. They were bringing into the country many young men from France who had not yet made their names but whose skill and vitality could, Gaveston was sure, outwit and overcome the proud barons at every turn. Perrot would lead them and the King would be seated under his canopy to watch the play and to present the trophies.
    It was going to be a most exciting occasion.
    On the appointed day people came from miles to see the contests. The roads were full of travellers with the usual company of beggars and pickpockets in their wake. Pennants fluttered from those pavilions in which knights donned their armour and waited to be called to the fight. They were beautiful, those pavilions, many made of double satin, the valences embroidered with their owner’s motto. The Royal Pavilioners and Sergeants of the Tents were busy all through the day preceding the tournament, setting them up and making sure they were not damaged. Merchants of London and the big cities vied with each other to obtain contracts for making and maintaining these pavilions. And a colourful sight they were.
    When the King appeared there was a great shout of greeting from the people, for there was nothing they loved more than displays of this sort and the rumour had already been circulated that the King was at some variance with certain members of his court who did not like his friend Gaveston. They knew of course that the late King had banished the Gascon and that the new King had recalled him and given him, as well as a rich and royal bride, great honours.
    The feeling had seeped out that the tournament in some way a contest between the King, who had his own idea of what a King’s duties should be, and those barons who wanted to impose their will on him.
    As yet the outcome of this struggle seemed of little importance to the people. What they wanted to see was an exciting tournament and when the combatants emerged they would pick their favourites.
    The King had taken his seat beneath the royal canopy and among his party was Margaret de Clare, his niece, the newly-married wife of Gaveston. As soon as the knights appeared in their splendid armour, her eyes sought her husband among them and as she recognized him, they shone with a pride which was matched by the King’s own obvious love for his friend.
    Gaveston was chafing against the fact that he had been designated as one of the challengers, believing that he should have been greeted as a champion. Well, he was