#HistFicThursdays - Their Castilian Orphan - Anna Belfrage - Guest Post

  

For this week's #HistFicThursdays blog, I'm thrilled to be welcoming Anna Belfrage back to the blog with a guest post about her latest book Their Castilian Orphan, as part of her Coffee Pot Book Club tour. In her guest post, Anna explores the character of the contentious Edward I and shares his role in her story. But first, let's meet the book...

Blurb

It is 1294 and Eustace de Lamont is back in England after five years in exile. He will stop at nothing to ruin Robert FitzStephan and his wife, Noor d’Outremer.

Robert’s half brother, Eustace de Lamont, has not mellowed during his absence. He is more ruthless than ever, and this time he targets Robert’s and Noor’s foster son, Lionel.

Lionel is serving King Edward as a page when Eustace appears at court. Not only does Lionel become the horrified witness to Eustace’s violent streak, Eustace also starts voicing his suspicions about Lionel’s parentage. The truth about Lionel’s heritage is explosive—should King Edward find out, all would be lost for Robert and Noor.

In October of 1294, Wales rises in rebellion. Robert must leave his family unprotected to fight the Welsh rebels on the king’s behalf, comforted only by the fact that Eustace too is called to fight.

Except that Eustace has no intention of allowing his duty to his king—or a mere rebellion—come between him and his desire to destroy Robert FitzStephan . . .

Their Castilian Orphan

is available on #KindleUnlimited via this Universal Link

Guest Post

Edward I is a king that generally inspires a lot of ambivalence—especially among those who took Braveheart as gospel truth, the brave William Wallace destroyed by the bitter, evil English king. Some would therefore wonder why I have chosen to make him a central character in my series The Castilian Saga. Beyond the fact that the events in The Castilian Saga occur during Edward’s reign, thereby automatically making him someone I needed to relate to, I have always been fascinated by this king, by the dichotomy of his cruelty in some situations and his evident capacity for deep love in others.

Indubitably, Edward was horrifyingly cruel during his campaign in Scotland. Little can excuse imprisoning women from cages hung from battlements or the gory execution of William Wallace, condemned to be hanged, drawn and quartered before an enthusiastic audience in London. In Scotland, the ageing English king gave no quarter—at least not to those he considered to have betrayed him.

However, judging Edward based on Scotland alone is not fair.

“Hang on,” someone will say. “What about Wales? He was pretty harsh there too!”

That he was—but nowhere close to as ruthless as he was in Scotland. Not that Elisabeth Ferrers, wife to Prince Dafydd ap Gruffydd, would necessarily agree: her husband was also condemned to be hanged, drawn and quartered in Shrewsbury, and she had her children torn from her arms, her baby daughter sent off to live out her life in a nunnery, her two young sons carried off to Bristol Castle to be locked up for life. Cruel. Absolutely—especially when one considers that the older of Dafydd’s son, the fourteen-year-old Llewellyn, was kept in a cage at night.

Still, leaving aside the tragic fate of Prince Dafydd and his family, Edward was never quite as roughshod in Wales. Not even after the rebellion in 1294—when he himself was severely humiliated by the Welsh rebels who ambushed him, carried off his baggage train and left him no option to turn tail and make as fast as possible for the safety of Conwy Castle—were people condemned to die as cruelly as Dafydd or Wallace. Instead, the rebel leader Madog ap Llewellyn was locked up for life.

All in all, though, Edward comes across as being no stranger to violence when so required. In the case of Scotland, he had no legal right to meddle, although he would snort and tell me not to be a fool if he were to read that. The chaotic situation after the death of Alexander III in Scotland offered an opportunity to Edward, a chance to expand his kingdom. Of course he grabbed that opportunity with both hands! Besides, he’d likely add, his intention was to annex Scotland peacefully, by marrying his son, Edward, to Margaret the Maid of Norway, the only surviving heir to Alexander’s throne. Unfortunately, Margaret died on her way to Scotland, and suddenly there were very many pretenders to the Scottish crown. Obviously, Edward would tell us, he had to act to safeguard his own realm.

Wales—well, here Edward would argue north Wales was a gigantic burr up the English arse. Plus, most of Wales was already happily pacified and ruled by English marcher lords. The exception was Gwynedd, and how was it Edward’s fault that Dafydd, ungrateful rogue that he was, instigated the rebellion that would cost the lives of Llywellyn the Last (Dafydd’s older brother) and Dafydd himself while leaving Gwynedd ripe for the taking? The conflict with Wales was personal: not only had Llewellyn the Last supported Simon de Montfort when he rebelled against Henry III, but Dafydd had been raised in the English court, had repeatedly sworn fealty to Edward, only to turn around and betray him the moment he was dissatisfied with his lot. (As an aside, Dafydd was often dissatisfied, which was why he betrayed not only Edward but also his brother)

Thing is, Edward was a medieval king. He lived in a day and age where kings could not afford to show weakness, and Edward had a very personal experience of just what could happen to a weak king—namely Simon de Monfort’s rebellion against Henry III, Edward’s father.

Henry was no great king, and he was easily influenced by people around him, perhaps especially by his forceful wife, Eleanor of Provence. Edward would never commit the mistake of involving his wife in the actual ruling, no matter that he seems to have respected and greatly loved his wife, Eleanor of Castile.

Simon de Montfort was Edward’s uncle, he was married to Henry’s sister, Eleanor (Yes, I know: very many Eleanors to keep track of) He was also a skilled soldier, charismatic and much more of a traditional medieval male role model than Henry, who was much more interest in art than in war.

Initially, Edward seems to have felt some sympathy for de Montfort’s ideas—the notion of a representative Parliament (representative used loosely, as only a very small part of the English were called to attend) resonated with him, as did the notion of restricting the influence of foreigners. Henry had been far too generous to his French half-siblings and his wife’s Savoyard relatives, angering the English nobles.

When the tensions between de Montfort and his supporters versus the king and his men exploded into civil war, Edward sided with his father. Suddenly, those ideas of de Montfort threatened Edward’s inheritance, and he was not having that. Ultimately, de Montfort lost. Things returned to “normal”—albeit Henry, counselled by Edward, showed restraint when punishing all those who’d joined the rebels.

The years of civil war were to leave Edward determined to never, ever find himself in a situation similar to that of his father. The best way to avoid that was, of course, to strike first—especially against those who potentially could succour would-be rebels. Hence his harsh approach to Wales and Scotland.

For me, Edward is much more than a ruthless warrior. He is a man who loved his first wife so deeply he was totally devasted by her death—for the first time ever during his reign no work was conducted during three days, the king struck down by grief. He was a father who had welcomed sixteen children to the world, only to lose ten before they were adults. (He had three more with his second wife) He was the man called upon to negotiate some sort of peace between France, Aragon and the papacy after the utter mess that was the French attempt to invade Aragon in 1285. He negotiated a treaty with Baibars, allowing Christian pilgrims to visit the Holy Land. Most of all, he was a man determined to be strong because his father had been weak, thereby plunging the kingdom into bloody disarray. Not on my watch, Edward would likely say, no way!

Now, let's meet the author:

Had Anna been allowed to choose, she’d have become a time-traveller. As this was impossible, she became a financial professional with three absorbing interests: history, romance and writing. Anna has authored the acclaimed time travelling series The Graham Saga, set in 17^th century Scotland and Maryland, as well as the equally acclaimed medieval series The King’s Greatest Enemy which is set in 14^th century England. Anna has just released the final instalment, Their Castilian Orphan, in her other medieval series, The Castilian Saga ,which is set against the conquest of Wales. She has recently released Times of Turmoil, a sequel to her time travel romance, The Whirlpools of Time, and is now considering just how to wiggle out of setting the next book in that series in Peter the Great’s Russia, as her characters are demanding. . .

All of Anna’s books have been awarded the IndieBRAG Medallion, she has several Historical Novel Society Editor’s Choices, and one of her books won the HNS Indie Award in 2015. She is also the proud recipient of various Reader’s Favorite medals as well as having won various Gold, Silver and Bronze Coffee Pot Book Club awards.

“A master storyteller”

“This is what all historical fiction should be like. Superb.”

You can follow Anna on these links:

Website - Newsletter - Twitter - Bluesky - Facebook - Instagram - Book Bub - Amazon AuthorPage - Goodreads

Keep up with the rest of the Their Castilian Orphan tour stops by clicking on the banner below: