Chapter 82: Monarch and Subject, Father and Son

With William's joining, John's team grew even larger. This formidable force advanced southeast, making a grand show of their march, as if they feared no one would notice their army was on the move.

On the way, John passed by Ralph's Castle, which was still just a small fortress at the time. If it hadn't been for Baron Ralph revealing so many secrets, John might not have known the specifics about the rebels.

In Leicester, John met with the Earl of Leicester, who, despite his old age, personally received John. The old earl had only one request: his son.

"Your Highness, could my son be exempted from punishment?" the Earl of Leicester asked, his voice low and hoarse. "He is my only heir; I have no other sons to inherit the estate."

He put on a pitiful look, evoking a sense of sorrow among the knights around. But John showed no response, his only reply being, "This decision must be made by His Majesty the King." 

This stance was essentially a rejection of the earl's request. Politics is not a game; John would not make a political sacrifice out of a sense of pity. Besides, if young Robert had not joined the rebellion, John would not have to deal with him in this manner.

Afterwards, John accepted the allegiance of the local nobility in Leicester, all in the name of Henry II. His thunderous methods in England shocked the English nobles but also reassured them. They had initially feared John would cause turmoil, but now it seemed John was a decent ruler.

No matter the chaos John caused in Ireland, he appeared to be doing well in England.

Upon learning of the situation from across the channel, Henry II had mixed feelings. His child had grown, which was certainly good, but as a feudal lord, John was not only his son but also his subject. If any lord in Henry II's domain gained such prestige, he would undoubtedly tear that lord apart. Yet John was his son; he couldn't just eliminate his heir, could he?

"Your Majesty, you seem to be in a bad mood lately."

Henry II's favorite, Baudric, noticed his master's troubled expression and approached to show concern. 

"Of course I'm not well, Baudric," Henry II replied irritably. "If you had such a pack of ungrateful sons, you wouldn't be in a good mood either."

Baudric continued to smile ingratiatingly. "But think positively, Your Majesty. You still have your excellent youngest son, John…"

"I'm talking about him."

Baudric was momentarily stunned by Henry II's sharp response. Had he missed something? Why would the king suddenly start disliking his most beloved youngest son, John?

"That little rascal's ambition is no small thing. I even think he's worse than Richard; it's just that he hasn't yet had the scope to fully display it." Henry II's tone was extremely sharp. 

But he wasn't wrong.

"Look at how he deals with those nobles. He uses my name, my power, to buy off those unruly nobles. What a clever way to make gains without any investment. And wasn't the Earl of Derby's death a bit too convenient? What do you think?"

Baudric didn't understand, but he nodded anyway. He knew Henry II just needed someone to listen to him.

"This John, I must find a way to deal with him, to make him understand who the true master of this country is..." Henry II said, moving to the window.

From this window, the entire southern structure of Chinon Castle could be seen. This castle, as Henry II's key ruling center, had an ingenious design that made it highly functional, while its exquisite exterior instilled awe in his vassals.

When the setting sun cast its rays on the land, the whole castle seemed to be cloaked in a golden robe, just like the current Angevin Empire, inspiring fear and admiration.

However, the dark bricks hidden beneath the glow, like the empire's latent dangers, were merely temporarily concealed.

"The best method would be to bring him back under your control, Your Majesty," Baudric suggested. "You could summon him to Fontevraud Abbey, so he would be far from his own domain."

When Baudric mentioned "territory," he was referring to John's fief and Ireland. Removing John from those areas would indeed be a good solution, but given the current situation, Henry II couldn't make it happen.

Yes, he couldn't make it happen.

"He's not a fool, Baudric," said Henry II. "If I summon him here without reason, it will only make him suspicious."

Once, Henry II wanted to reassign Richard to Anjou, but John suggested letting Richard stay in Aquitaine because John feared Richard would be displeased and unwilling to leave his established stronghold.

Though these words might not be entirely accurate, they revealed John's cautious mindset.

"John has spent an entire year establishing himself in Ireland. In England, he has the support of Lancaster, Gloucester, and the Earl of Derby. How could he possibly leave all that?" Henry II muttered. "Fighting on two fronts is already our limit; we can't afford internal rebellion."

Indeed, if John were to rebel again, Henry II would have no means to counter it.

This was the frustrating part. John was positioned perfectly as a valuable ally to be courted, not Henry II's primary enemy, but an unreliable ally to be swayed by interests.

Despite this, Henry II despised this feeling. He repeatedly disrupted the noble system within the Kingdom of England, aiming to make the nobles realize their power came from his favor.

His strong desire for control was the fundamental motivation behind these actions, and it was also why he began to fear John.

Henry II waved his hand, summoning his court officials in Anjou. These were not favorites like Baudric but competent ministers who could be dispatched to carry out tasks effectively.

He then looked toward the clergy from Aquitaine, who had come to protest John's imprisonment of their fellow clergymen.

"Fourger," Henry II assigned the task to his subordinate, "take some men to England. Inform John to release the imprisoned Aquitaine clergymen and send them to Nantes."

The man named Fourger, clean-shaven and with neatly trimmed short hair, knelt on one knee to accept Henry II's order, then promptly left the lord's hall.

"Thank you for your mercy and wisdom, Your Majesty," the Aquitaine clergy thanked Henry II. "We will also convey your terms to the Duke of Aquitaine… although we cannot guarantee that the stubborn Duke of Aquitaine will accept them."

Mercy—a word that had become somewhat unfamiliar to Henry II.