Our favorite dysfunctional royals--no, not the Tudors!

On May 20th, 1217, the second battle of Lincoln was fought, in which the French were defeated by our hero, William Marshal. John’s illegitimate son, Richard of Dover, a character in Here be Dragons, also fought in this battle, and the son of Richenza, Eleanor’s granddaughter and a character in Devil’s Brood, Lionheart, and Ransom, was slain. She was dead by then so at least she was spared that.
I was too busy to post about Henry and Eleanor’s wedding anniversary on May 18, 1152, but several of my readers took up the slack; thanks! I was going to post some passages from their wedding night in Saints, but I’ve done that before. So I decided to do something different, and here is a scene from Devil’s Brood. Eleanor is Henry’s prisoner and she has sabotaged his grand scheme to rid himself of her by making her the abbess of Fontevrault Abbey. As the scene opens, Henry has just been confronted by his sons, Hal, Richard, and Geoffrey, who take Eleanor’s side, which naturally does not go down well with him. He now bursts in upon Eleanor to vent his wrath.
Page 320.
“I thought you’d like to know that your latest scheme was highly successful. Your sons gallantly rode to your rescue tonight, proclaiming themselves your champions.” (omission)
“However little you like it, Harry, they are my sons. Is it truly so surprising that they are protective of me?”
“What did you tell them precisely? That I was going to load you down with chains and haul you off to a nunnery in the dead of night?”
“As a matter of fact, I did not mention your threat.”
“You expect me to believe that? As if you’d pass up any chance to portray me as the knave and you as the innocent, sacrificial lamb, the damsel in distress!”
“I did not tell them because I did not take your threat seriously. I know how you rave and rant when you lose your temper. I also know that once you cool down, you rarely if ever carry these threats out, so I saw no reason to share them with our sons, not unless you forced me to it. More strife is the last thing our family needs.”
“St Eleanor of Aquitaine,” he mocked, “so wise and forebearing. It is rather difficult, though, to reconcile that angelic image with the woman who urged my sons to rebel against me!”
“That was a mistake.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “A mistake? You destroyed our family and you call it a mistake?”
“Yes, damn you, a mistake! Are you going to tell me that you’ve never made a mistake, Harry?”
“No,” he growled, “I made a great one on May 18 in God’s Year 1152.” And with that, he turned and stalked out, slamming the door resoundingly behind him.
(omission) To Amaria’s surprise, the queen did not seem as distraught as she ought to have been after such a blazing row. Deciding, though, that they both needed wine, she went over without being asked and poured two cups.
Bringing one back to Eleanor, she made an attempt to sound blasé as she said, “May I ask what happened on May 18 in 1152, my lady?”
“Harry and I were wed in Poitiers.” Eleanor took a swallow of the wine before saying, “Usually he could never remember our anniversary.”
Amaria did not know what to say, so she busied herself hunting in the floor rushes for the brush, which she’d dropped when Henry barged into the chamber. Eleanor drank in silence, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. When their eyes met, though, she smiled, a smile that somehow managed to be wry and rueful and bleak, all at the same time.
“Harry and I have more in common than quick tempers,” she said. “We rarely make mistakes, but when we do, they tend to be spectacular.”