Sharon Kay Penman's Blog, page 95
March 26, 2014
A king's legendary luck finally runs out
On Friday, March 26, 1199, Richard I was struck by a crossbow bolt as he inspected the siege at the castle of Chalus Chabrol in the Limousin. I am giving away no plot twists to report that his was a very painful death and a needless one, easily avoided if only he’d bothered to wear his hauberk. I suspect that many who loved Richard were furious with him even as they mourned him, for his sudden death changed history in so many ways, both for countries and for individuals. A brief scene from Ransom, pages 576-577
* * *
The sky along the horizon was glowing like the embers of a dying fire as this last Friday in March ebbed away. There was still enough daylight remaining for Richard to assess Chalus’s weaknesses, though. (omission)
One of Richard’s sergeants had set up his large rectangular shield, and he and Mercadier were standing behind it as they debated where the castle seemed most vulnerable to an assault. They were soon joined by William de Braose. (omission) Glancing at Richard’s crossbow, he said, “You’ll get few chances to make use of that, sire. Our crossbowmen have kept the castle defenders off the walls for much of the day, aside from one lunatic by the gatehouse.”
Richard arched a brow. “Why call him a lunatic, Will?”
“See for yourself, my liege.” The Marcher lord gestured and Richard squinted until he located the lone man on the castle battlements When he did, he burst out laughing, for this enemy crossbowman was using a large frying pan as a shield, deflecting the bolts coming his way with surprising dexterity. De Braose and Mercadier were not surprised by his reaction, for they’d known this was just the sort of mad gallantry to appeal to Richard. But because chivalry was as alien a tongue to them as the languages spoken in Cathay, they saw the knave wielding a frying pan as nothing more than a nuisance to be eliminated , sooner rather than later.
When the crossbowman used his makeshift shield to turn aside another bolt, Richard gave him a playful, mocking salute. He was still laughing when the crossbowman aimed at him and he was slow, therefore, in ducking for cover behind his shield. The bolt struck him in the left shoulder, just above his collarbone. The impact was great enough to stagger him, although he managed to keep his balance, grabbing the edge of the shield to steady himself. There was no pain, not yet, but he’d suffered enough wounds to know that would not last. His first coherent thought was relief that dusk was fast falling, for when he glanced around hastily, it was clear that none of his men had seen him hit. Only de Braose and Mercadier had been close enough to see what had happened, and while their dismay was obvious even in the fading light, he knew they were too battle-wise to cry out, to let others know that their king had just been shot.
* * *
It was perhaps inevitable that sooner or later, Richard’s recklessness would outrun his fabled luck, but it is interesting that a contributing factor in his death was his sense of humor; had he not been so amused by the crossbowman’s frying pan shield, he might have been able to duck in time. Another of his flaws, his impulsiveness, would also play a role in what followed, but I’ll save that for the book. And yes, this is the same infamous William de Braose who became one of Johns’ primary supporters until their fatal falling-out, dramatized in Here Be Dragons.
* * *
The sky along the horizon was glowing like the embers of a dying fire as this last Friday in March ebbed away. There was still enough daylight remaining for Richard to assess Chalus’s weaknesses, though. (omission)
One of Richard’s sergeants had set up his large rectangular shield, and he and Mercadier were standing behind it as they debated where the castle seemed most vulnerable to an assault. They were soon joined by William de Braose. (omission) Glancing at Richard’s crossbow, he said, “You’ll get few chances to make use of that, sire. Our crossbowmen have kept the castle defenders off the walls for much of the day, aside from one lunatic by the gatehouse.”
Richard arched a brow. “Why call him a lunatic, Will?”
“See for yourself, my liege.” The Marcher lord gestured and Richard squinted until he located the lone man on the castle battlements When he did, he burst out laughing, for this enemy crossbowman was using a large frying pan as a shield, deflecting the bolts coming his way with surprising dexterity. De Braose and Mercadier were not surprised by his reaction, for they’d known this was just the sort of mad gallantry to appeal to Richard. But because chivalry was as alien a tongue to them as the languages spoken in Cathay, they saw the knave wielding a frying pan as nothing more than a nuisance to be eliminated , sooner rather than later.
When the crossbowman used his makeshift shield to turn aside another bolt, Richard gave him a playful, mocking salute. He was still laughing when the crossbowman aimed at him and he was slow, therefore, in ducking for cover behind his shield. The bolt struck him in the left shoulder, just above his collarbone. The impact was great enough to stagger him, although he managed to keep his balance, grabbing the edge of the shield to steady himself. There was no pain, not yet, but he’d suffered enough wounds to know that would not last. His first coherent thought was relief that dusk was fast falling, for when he glanced around hastily, it was clear that none of his men had seen him hit. Only de Braose and Mercadier had been close enough to see what had happened, and while their dismay was obvious even in the fading light, he knew they were too battle-wise to cry out, to let others know that their king had just been shot.
* * *
It was perhaps inevitable that sooner or later, Richard’s recklessness would outrun his fabled luck, but it is interesting that a contributing factor in his death was his sense of humor; had he not been so amused by the crossbowman’s frying pan shield, he might have been able to duck in time. Another of his flaws, his impulsiveness, would also play a role in what followed, but I’ll save that for the book. And yes, this is the same infamous William de Braose who became one of Johns’ primary supporters until their fatal falling-out, dramatized in Here Be Dragons.
March 25, 2014
It is snowing again
It is snowing here…again. If only I had Mother Nature’s address, I’d Fed-Ex her a calendar, gently reminding her that this is late March. Enough already. Good luck to all in the path of this latest snowstorm. Sorry for not being around much since I got home, but I am still in Book-Tour Recovery mode. I hope to put a new blog up this week about the tour and the Tucson Book Festival, but as I had Coeur de Lion thinking in a dark Ransom moment, “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.” Many thanks to all of you who’ve posted that you’re enjoying Ransom and thanks, too, to any who aren’t for not posting that! Seriously, writers appreciate reader feedback the way my dog, Holly, appreciates anything edible. The one drawback of writing is that it is such a solitary profession, and we often never know if a particular scene or line of dialogue resonated with readers. Not that I am complaining; being a writer is so much more fun than being a lawyer. Who wouldn’t rather besiege a castle rather than file a brief?
The teacher threat to end all threats
This was fiendishly clever of this teacher. http://www.nydailynews.com/news/world...
March 24, 2014
The Lioness in Winter
March 24, 1603 was the date of death for the woman I always call (with a smile) “the only good Tudor,” Elizabeth I. She was sixty-nine and her death does not seem to have been a peaceful one. For a powerful account of her last years, I highly recommend Margaret George’s Elizabeth I, which I can’t resist thinking of as The Lioness in Winter.
March 22, 2014
Sea otter web cam
I fell in love with sea otters years ago when my fiancé and I drove from San Francisco to spend the day in Monterey. As we sauntered around the waterfront, we saw an otter floating on his back, using his belly as a dining room table for his meal, a juicy clam. I was smitten, and remain under their spell. So you can imagine how happy I was to discover that the Monterey Aquarium now has a sea otter live webcam. http://www.montereybayaquarium.org/an... They also have webcams for other sea life on their website.
And here is another way to keep from doing productive work today. I spent some time this morning watching elephants meander around the waterhole. Much cooler than watching squirrels on my front lawn. http://www.africam.com/wildlife/tembe...
And here is another way to keep from doing productive work today. I spent some time this morning watching elephants meander around the waterhole. Much cooler than watching squirrels on my front lawn. http://www.africam.com/wildlife/tembe...
March 21, 2014
Game of Thrones gossip
This story is for my fellow Game of Thrones fans. I confess it raised some red flags with me.
http://time.com/32791/game-of-thrones... But only 19 more days to go now till the launch of the new season, for which we are thankful.
http://time.com/32791/game-of-thrones... But only 19 more days to go now till the launch of the new season, for which we are thankful.
March 20, 2014
A Yorkist princess, a Lancastrian king, and a Tudor adventurer
March 20, 1469 was the date of birth of Edward IV and Elizabeth Woodville’s daughter Cecily. Here is what I wrote about Cecily for the new AN for the 30th anniversary edition of Sunne; it had to be edited out of the hardcover AN for Sunne because of space concerns, but the new e-book edition of Sunne in the UK and the US has the new AN in its entirety.
* * *
We also know more about the life of Edward’s daughter Cecily, for since Sunne’s publication, it has been established that she wed Ralph Scrope in late 1484. He was the son of Thomas, Lord Scrope, but we know little about this brief marriage. Henry Tudor had it annulled upon becoming king so that he could marry her to his uncle, John, Viscount Welles. He was in his forties and Cecily only eighteen, but what little evidence there is suggests the marriage was a happy one. They had two daughters, both of whom died before the viscount’s death in 1499. Cecily had often been in attendance to her sister the queen, but in 1502, she made what had to be a love match with a man of much lesser status, a mere esquire, William Kyme. Tudor was furious, banishing her from court and confiscating her estates. But she had an unlikely champion in Tudor’s mother, Margaret Beaufort, who’d apparently become fond of Cecily, and she interceded with her son on Cecily’s behalf. After the death of her beloved sister, Elizabeth, in 1503, Cecily and her husband retired from the court and settled on the Isle of Wight. She and William had a son, Richard, born in 1505 and a daughter, Margaret, born in 1507. Since Cecily died on August 24, 1507, she may have died from the complications of childbirth. This marriage, too, appears to have been a happy one. I would like to think so, for this daughter of York, said by Sir Thomas More to have been “not so fortunate as fair,” had suffered more than her share of sorrow in her thirty-eight years.
* * *
March 20th was also the death date of the first Lancastrian king, Henry IV, who is a character in Brian Wainwright’s novel, Within the Fetterlock, which I recommend to those who’ve not yet read it. And on March 20th, 1549, Thomas Seymour was beheaded, a fate he definitely deserved, not just for his treasonous scheming, but for breaking the heart of his wife, Catherine Parr, and for seducing or attempting to seduce the 13 year old Elizabeth Tudor.
* * *
We also know more about the life of Edward’s daughter Cecily, for since Sunne’s publication, it has been established that she wed Ralph Scrope in late 1484. He was the son of Thomas, Lord Scrope, but we know little about this brief marriage. Henry Tudor had it annulled upon becoming king so that he could marry her to his uncle, John, Viscount Welles. He was in his forties and Cecily only eighteen, but what little evidence there is suggests the marriage was a happy one. They had two daughters, both of whom died before the viscount’s death in 1499. Cecily had often been in attendance to her sister the queen, but in 1502, she made what had to be a love match with a man of much lesser status, a mere esquire, William Kyme. Tudor was furious, banishing her from court and confiscating her estates. But she had an unlikely champion in Tudor’s mother, Margaret Beaufort, who’d apparently become fond of Cecily, and she interceded with her son on Cecily’s behalf. After the death of her beloved sister, Elizabeth, in 1503, Cecily and her husband retired from the court and settled on the Isle of Wight. She and William had a son, Richard, born in 1505 and a daughter, Margaret, born in 1507. Since Cecily died on August 24, 1507, she may have died from the complications of childbirth. This marriage, too, appears to have been a happy one. I would like to think so, for this daughter of York, said by Sir Thomas More to have been “not so fortunate as fair,” had suffered more than her share of sorrow in her thirty-eight years.
* * *
March 20th was also the death date of the first Lancastrian king, Henry IV, who is a character in Brian Wainwright’s novel, Within the Fetterlock, which I recommend to those who’ve not yet read it. And on March 20th, 1549, Thomas Seymour was beheaded, a fate he definitely deserved, not just for his treasonous scheming, but for breaking the heart of his wife, Catherine Parr, and for seducing or attempting to seduce the 13 year old Elizabeth Tudor.
March 19, 2014
The swallows of Capistrano, the buzzards of Hinkley, Ohio, and me
I saw the first robin of spring this morning, frozen on my front lawn. No, not really; he was fine. I guess I am just still bitter about having to fly from sunny Tucson into yet more snow. Who’s for forming a posse to chase down that wretched little rodent in Punxsutawney, PA?
On March 19th, the swallows return to Capistrano, which always seemed worth celebrating to me. And on the 15th, while I was luxuriating in the Arizona heat, the buzzards should have returned to Hinkley, Ohio. At least I hope so. We need to believe in some traditions, right?
I am still paying the huge sleep debt I ran up on the book tour, but like the swallows and buzzards, I will return!
On March 19th, the swallows return to Capistrano, which always seemed worth celebrating to me. And on the 15th, while I was luxuriating in the Arizona heat, the buzzards should have returned to Hinkley, Ohio. At least I hope so. We need to believe in some traditions, right?
I am still paying the huge sleep debt I ran up on the book tour, but like the swallows and buzzards, I will return!
March 18, 2014
Ransom tour safe splashdown
I wanted to let you all know that I am safely back home. You can imagine how thrilled I was to have to dig my car out of half a foot of new snow last night in order to pick up Holly at the kennel. I had a wonderful time; the readings went very well and I got to meet a number of my Facebook friends! But I am utterly exhausted, mainly from all those hours trapped in those flying tuna cans. So the game plan is to hibernate for a few days. I will surface again once I am semi-coherent. Meanwhile, Ransom is off to a wonderful start. It debuted at #21 last week on the New York Times bestseller list and I learned today that it is #20 on the British bestseller list. Surely somewhere Richard and Henry are squabbling over whose books were more successful.
March 4, 2014
Saladin and a book tour
March 4th, 1193 is the usual date given for the death of the sultan of Egypt, Sallah al-Din, known to the crusaders and to history as Saladin, although Baha al-Din Ibn Shaddad says it occurred on March 3rd. In his chronicle, The Rare and Excellent History of Saladin, Baha al-Din provides an eye-witness account of Saladin’s final illness. He tells us that the sultan became ill on February 20th, “struck by a bilious fever,” describing how he steadily became weaker. By the eight day, “his mind wandered.” On the tenth day of his illness, they treated him with two enemas and he was given barley water to drink. But he continued to decline. “His death occurred after the dawn prayer on Wednesday, 27 Safar 589 (3 March 1193). After dawn had broken, Qadi al-Fadil made haste and was present for his death. I arrived when he was already dead and transported to God’s favor and the seat of His grace. It was related to me that, when the Shaykh Abu ja’far reached in God’s word ‘There is no god but He and in Him have I trusted,’ the sultan smiled, his face beamed with joy and he surrendered his soul to his Lord.”
Richard was the prisoner of the Holy Roman Emperor and word of Saladin’s death and the subsequent rivalry among his sons did not reach the English king for several months, courtesy of a letter from the Doge of Venice. Here is part of the scene from A King’s Ransom, page 224.
* * *.
Richard was on his feet now, striding back and forth. “The French king and my brother have much to answer for. And so does that scorpion on the German throne. Had I been able to reach England, it would not have taken me long to put Johnny and Philippe on the run. I could then have made plans to return to the Holy Land, just as I’d promised Henri and the Almighty. Now…who knows how long it will be ere I am free to fulfill my vow?”
He whirled suddenly, demanding of his clerk, “Does any of this make sense to you, Fulk? Why has God let this happen? Saladin’s death offers a rare opportunity to regain the most sacred city in Christendom and yet I cannot take advantage of it!”
The easy answer would be to say it was not for them to question the ways of the Almighty. But Fulk was not one to offer easy answers, nor would Richard have accepted them. “I do not know what to tell you, my liege. I do not understand, either.”
“Eventually Saladin’s brother will prevail, for he is much more capable than his nephews. Now could have been the time to strike, yet here I am, thwarted not by the Saracens, but by another Christian ruler!” Richard spat out a few virulent oaths, none of which eased his frustration or his fury. Sitting down again, he slumped back wearily in the window-seat next to his clerk. “Saladin was a far better man than Philippe or Heinrich,” he said at last. “A man of courage and honor. It is a great pity that he must be forever denied the grace of God.”
Fulk sighed, thinking what Philippe or Heinrich would have made of such a statement. Sometimes it seemed to him that his king went out of his way to provide weapons for his enemies to use against him.
* * *
What else happened on March 4th? Well, there is a book tour. I leave today, starting it with a reading tonight in West Chester. I hope to meet many of you on the tour, and I hope, too, that even more of you will buy Ransom—and that you will like what you read. I will try to post occasionally when I can. I wish I could say that Spring will be here by the time I get home, but I am not convinced Winter is ever going to go away.
Richard was the prisoner of the Holy Roman Emperor and word of Saladin’s death and the subsequent rivalry among his sons did not reach the English king for several months, courtesy of a letter from the Doge of Venice. Here is part of the scene from A King’s Ransom, page 224.
* * *.
Richard was on his feet now, striding back and forth. “The French king and my brother have much to answer for. And so does that scorpion on the German throne. Had I been able to reach England, it would not have taken me long to put Johnny and Philippe on the run. I could then have made plans to return to the Holy Land, just as I’d promised Henri and the Almighty. Now…who knows how long it will be ere I am free to fulfill my vow?”
He whirled suddenly, demanding of his clerk, “Does any of this make sense to you, Fulk? Why has God let this happen? Saladin’s death offers a rare opportunity to regain the most sacred city in Christendom and yet I cannot take advantage of it!”
The easy answer would be to say it was not for them to question the ways of the Almighty. But Fulk was not one to offer easy answers, nor would Richard have accepted them. “I do not know what to tell you, my liege. I do not understand, either.”
“Eventually Saladin’s brother will prevail, for he is much more capable than his nephews. Now could have been the time to strike, yet here I am, thwarted not by the Saracens, but by another Christian ruler!” Richard spat out a few virulent oaths, none of which eased his frustration or his fury. Sitting down again, he slumped back wearily in the window-seat next to his clerk. “Saladin was a far better man than Philippe or Heinrich,” he said at last. “A man of courage and honor. It is a great pity that he must be forever denied the grace of God.”
Fulk sighed, thinking what Philippe or Heinrich would have made of such a statement. Sometimes it seemed to him that his king went out of his way to provide weapons for his enemies to use against him.
* * *
What else happened on March 4th? Well, there is a book tour. I leave today, starting it with a reading tonight in West Chester. I hope to meet many of you on the tour, and I hope, too, that even more of you will buy Ransom—and that you will like what you read. I will try to post occasionally when I can. I wish I could say that Spring will be here by the time I get home, but I am not convinced Winter is ever going to go away.
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