Three columns of knights emerged from the sprawling Crusader camp, their lances bearing Capet's fleur-de-lis, Anjou's golden lion, and the red-fielded golden cross of the Toulouse-Tripoli branch. Armed to the teeth from head to toe, even their mounts draped in splendid caparisons, they surrounded their masters as they rode forth.
As they looked at the six hundred Winged Hussars already standing in neat formation, the Three-Headed Alliance wore complicated expressions.
Richard did not actually dislike Lothar. At most, he felt a trace of jealousy. Lothar was truly formidable in battle, fair and magnanimous in his dealings—he was simply too hard to hate.
But their interests conflicted, and they could never truly become friends.
More than once, he had imagined that if Lothar did not exist in this world, who else but him would be celebrated throughout the Christian world as the man who had personally defeated Saladin and lifted the crisis threatening the Holy City?
Philip, meanwhile, felt mostly envy. Yet what he envied was not Lothar's prosperous domains, but the lofty prestige he had gained through holy war—thrones inherited through blood might sound secure and more legitimate, but everyone knew they could never compare to the founder of a kingdom.
When he first ascended the throne at fifteen, the power of regency lay with the Queen Mother. A King in name, he was still controlled by another.
Later, in order to free the kingdom from Adela of Champagne's regency, he decisively chose a marriage alliance with the Count of Hainaut. He gained a powerful ally and Artois as a dowry territory.
After his strength had grown, Philip found that he could finally display a little of a King's authority. He promptly allied with the great lords of Flanders, the Alsace Family, launched the War of Champagne, and completely removed