Richard's worst Chrismas

On December 21st 1192, Richard was captured by the Duke of Austria, an event that changed the history of several countries. There were a few other happenings worth mentioning on that date; Thomas Becket was born in 1118 and in 1295 Marguerite, queen of St Louis of France and one of the four famed sisters who all wed kings, died. But I’m much more interested in Richard’s bad day. So, as promised, I am posting below an excerpt from A King’s Ransom.
Here is the background. Richard and a German-speaking youngster and one or two knights made a desperate dash for safety in Moravia, covering an incredible 150 miles in just three days although they were in the mountains in the dead of winter. By the time they reached Vienna, they were just fifty miles from the Moravian border. But Richard was running a fever and was too exhausted to continue, so they took shelter in a village near Vienna until he was up to riding. We do not know the identity of the German-speaking youth, so I named him Arne. We know the other knight with Richard was Guillaume de l’Estrang, although I use an older version of Guillaume, having more than enough Williams wandering about in Ransom. The English chroniclers said he was accompanied by only one knight, but in the letter that Heinrich wrote to Philippe, he said that two knights had been captured with Richard, so I went with that version since it enabled me to insert Morgan into the action. All sorts of legends were later spun out about Richard’s capture, and they were just that, legends. The most reliable accounts are by the Austrian and English chroniclers, as the German and French chroniclers all had very sharp political axes to grind. In this scene, Richard is sleeping and Morgan and Guillain are discussing their plans to move on the next day; Arne was sent into Vienna to buy food, and has not yet returned.
* * *
. They were keeping their voices low so Richard would not be disturbed, and frowned as sudden barking erupted outside. Richard did not stir, though, and Morgan began looking for the dice.
But the barking did not stop, was so loud now that it sounded as if all the dogs in the village were in full tongue. The two men exchanged uneasy looks and Guillain crossed to the window, unbarred the shutters, and peered out. “Holy Christ!” He slammed the shutters and whirled around, the blood draining from his face. “There are soldiers outside!”
Morgan reacted instinctively, crying out Richard’s name and dashing across the room to bar the door even as he realized the futility of it. The urgency in his voice awoke Richard at once. “Soldiers, sire,” Guillain said hoarsely and Richard was at the window in two strides. Opening the shutters just enough to give him a view of the ale-wife’s yard, he saw crossbowmen and men-at-arms taking up position. Els and her sons were standing out in the street, looking bewildered, as her neighbors emerged to see what was happening. Several knights had dismounted and, as Richard watched, they drew their swords and began to approach the house, shouting his name and one of the few German words he knew, konig—king.
Richard latched the shutters again. His heart was thudding, his breath coming quick and shallow as his body reacted to the danger, while his stunned brain still struggled to accept what he’d seen. Morgan and Guillain looked just as shocked. None of them had truly believed that they’d be caught, for Richard’s self-confidence was contagious and they’d seen him defy the odds time and time again in the Holy Land. Now that his legendary luck had suddenly run out in this small Austrian village, it did not seem real to any of them, least of all, Richard.
He had his sword in hand now, but that was an unthinking response. For the first time in his life, he experienced what so many other men did in battle—pure physical panic. They were trapped, with no way out and only two choices—surrender or die. As he stared at the bed-chamber door, hearing the thud of boots as they tried to kick it in, his emotions were in such turmoil that death seemed preferable to what awaited him outside this room.
* * *