The Lion of Flanders (De Leeuw van Vlaanderen)

- Strangers. - Where?

Over there.

Frenchmen.

God be merciful!

Let's just carry on.

Do you know where Wynendaele Castle is?

I think ... it's over there, sir ... I think ...

You think ... Bring him along!

They've taken our Willem!

Who? Willem?

They're going to hang him!

Was it soldiers?

Knights! They were carrying shields with fleur-de-lis on a blue field.

- Why would they kill Willem? - They're Frenchmen.

- He had to take them to Wynendaele. - Yes, to Wynendaele Castle.

- So they won't hang him, silly! - Won't they?

I'll go and have a look.

Stop whining!

They'll still be in the woods.

Careful, Jan! Those knights are murderers, every one!

It was the year 1300.

A group of silent knights

was riding across the plains of Roulers.

The clanking of their armour and the heavy tread of their steeds

put the deer to flight.

The group included members of France's most illustrious families

and their mission in Flanders

was to reprimand the rebellious Count Guy de Dampierre.

Among them, Monsieur de Châtillon, cousin to the Queen of France

his brother, the dreaded warrior, Monsieur de Saint-Paul

and, last but not least,

the French King's own brother, Count Charles de Valois.

Good day ... Good day.

Good day.

Good day, my noble lords.

Welcome, noble lords, to our country of Flanders.

You are a sight for sore eyes

and have brought with you the fair weather of the south.

Willem, are you showing these gentlemen our beautiful countryside?

You've made a mistake!

Willem is a good boy but the worst guide in all Flanders!

Be off with you! Go, I tell you!

May I offer you my services? I know these woods by heart.

Shall I lead the way? Come on.

Our old count will be happy.

He likes receiving visitors, especially noble ones.

He also likes commoners, mind you,

when they come to pay him taxes. That's what our count likes best of all!

Enough of this foolish talk!

A lord of Monsieur de Châtillon's rank

who deigns to touch me! I am honoured!

Monsieur de Volnay, punish this peasant!

Compliments of Jan Breydel, dean of the butchers' guild.

Seize him!

Monsieur de Châtillon, come back at once!

Monsieur de Saint-Paul, come back!

Monsieur de Châtillon, you are not yet liege of Flanders!

I still am!

And I alone decide the fate of my vassals.

Prince, you are the first knight of France.

We are wasting time. Night will soon set in.

That night, the Frenchmen arrived at Wynendaele Castle

there to be received by the rebellious eighty-year-old Count Guy.

At his side, his son Robert de Béthune,

known as the Lion of Flanders

for his remarkable feats of arms in the Sicilian War.

The next day, the French knights were riding

through Count Guy's domain as if it were their own gardens.

Matilda, Robert de Béthune's daughter

was looking at them with distaste.

How sullen you look, Father!

- Because I couldn't see you. - How gallant!

Damn these Frenchmen!

They make my bile rise!

I left for the Holy Land

With knights bold and brave

Fighting the Saracens

Quarter I never gave

My paramour I provided

With a belt of chastity

And to my best friend

I entrusted the key

I kept her secure

To wait for my return

Count Guy ...

the King, my brother, is not as adverse to you as you think.

I have come here personally to ask you,

"Do you persist in your opposition to the French Crown?"

- Our treasury is empty. - That's no answer!

The King of France owes me money,

my share of the taxes from the towns that I levied on his behalf.

The King is scheming with the patricians of our towns

against the legal authority of my father.

- King Philip the Fair does not scheme! - No, he has others to do that for him!

What are you insinuating? Answer!

Sir, I don't have to answer you!

You're forgetting your rank!

Count Guy, after all the grievances France has against you ...

your rebellion ... your bad faith ... your arrogance ...

which seems to suggest that Flanders is a kingdom,

with yourself as king, a little repentance would not go amiss.

How can Philip be angry with me? I'm his godfather.

I served his father and his grandfather.

Our country is beleaguered and occupied.

You want to annex it to the France of your dreams,

the greatest kingdom in Christendom ...

but, by gad, that is at the expense of honour, loyalty and treaties!

My father never resorted to intrigue, subterfuge and perjury.

Perjury? ... Who?

The King of France? I demand that you take that back!

I've been faithful to the King until he devalued the Crown

as he did with the French currency.

If the King of France is not corrupt

then he is at least spineless

and he is being manipulated by ...

By? ... I dare you to speak up!

By a court of bloodsuckers ...

Béthune!

...led by his own wife, Joan of Navarre.

I will not tolerate that you slander my queen and my cousin Joan!

This, Monsieur de Béthune, this calls for blood!

Monsieur de Châtillon ...

...I am your man.

Count de Béthune chose as brother-in-arms for the sword fight

young Adolf van Nieuwland.

Jacques de Châtillon chose his own brother,

the redoubtable Monsieur de Saint-Paul.

- Here ... you must be hungry. - Thank you, sir.

On your feet, sir!

My brother is magnanimous,

beneficent to Flanders.

He is generous.

He is as good as a King can be.

But he never forgets

that he's wearing the crown of Saint Louis.

Anyone who thwarts him, he crushes like a cockroach.

Why did he marry that shrew of Navarre?

She hates Flanders ... as much as she hates me.

She thinks I'm a threat to my brother.

- So you are. - Of course.

Joan is in Navarre at present.

Hurry to Compiégne, while she is not there.

Philip is so unreliable.

Do not fear, my good friend.

I shall personally vouch for your safety.

Nothing will happen to you.

Of Philip the Fair it was said

that he resembled the most beautiful of all birds

the white owl ...

a bird that looks at the world without blinking,

that hardly sings at all and then only slowly,

and is, on the whole, quite useless.

Sire.

Philip.

You've become stronger, Philip, and more handsome.

Thank you for receiving us.

We've been here for twelve days.

Sire, Flanders bows its head.

His Majesty could rightly claim that head!

He could do so at any time.

The war you launched against the King

has turned against you.

You have forfeited your country

and you have outlawed yourself.

There have been some misunderstandings due not to us.

Upon the honour of the house of Dampierre

I swear that I and my countrymen shall henceforth be loyal to the Crown.

This allegiance should be expressed

in chattels, goods and gold coins.

Flanders is bare ... plundered ...

The levy of the Flemish towns should be paid

without further delay.

You need not escort me any further, my dear confessor.

Oh, my darling King!

Have you missed me?

Every hour, my beloved ... Every day, every night!

I'm exhausted.

We've been on the road 20 hours.

Then you should rest, my love.

Rest?

Philip?

While I was in Navarre, did you receive the Count of Flanders?

Yes.

- Is he still staying at the palace? - He is.

And you didn't chase him away, like the mangy dog he is?

No.

My confessor tells me you even contemplate showing him mercy?

Mercy!

Darling, spare me your Spanish whining!

Do I mean so little to you

that you give shelter to this rebellious and impudent Flemish rabble?

Flanders and Dampierre question your authority ...

you, the Lord's Anointed One!

Sir Enguerrand de Marigny.

- Your Majesty. - Enguerrand.

I don't know what's going on in her little head but you try to pacify her.

Enguerrand, tell him what it is all about.

Come on, tell your King.

We could raise the tolls, seize the property

of the rebellious Clauwaerts and the henchmen of Count Guy.