It was now Curthose's turn to feel some degree of anxiety. Inclosed within the walls of Archembrage, he saw himself hemmed in by a force with which his own was too weak to cope. But the chivalrous spirit of the heir of Normandy was not to be daunted by the odds arrayed against him; and making a sally, with his lance in rest, and his best warriors at his back, he bore down opposition and carried confusion into the enemy's camp.
It was on this occasion that Curthose and the Conqueror encountered hand to hand. Unaware who was his adversary, Curthose so strenuously exerted his marvellous prowess that William, who had never before been worsted in close conflict, was wounded and unhorsed. Alarmed at disasters which to him were quite novel, William bellowed out much more loudly than was consistent with the dignity of a conqueror, and the Norman knights, spurring in to the rescue, shouted out that it was the king. On discovering who was the wounded knight, Curthose dismounted, lifted William from the ground, aided him to regain his saddle, and left him at liberty to depart.
After the affray at Archembrage, the Norman counts and bishops used their utmost endeavours to reconcile William and his son. At first their efforts were unavailing. The Conqueror would scarcely listen to their entreaties, and, even after listening, he resisted sternly and stubbornly.
"Why," he asked, "do you solicit me in favour of a traitor who has seduced from me those soldiers whom I have fed with my bread and whom I have supplied with the arms they bear?"
As time passed on, however, William's heart softened. Perhaps, when cured of his wound, he recovered from the mortification of spirit caused by the remembrance of his overthrow and affright at Archembrage. At all events, he yielded to the solicitations of the Norman counts and bishops, expressed his willingness to forgive the past, and granted Curthose full pardon for his rebellious exploits.
While the good understanding consequent on this reconciliation between father and son lasted, William departed for England, and not, perhaps, deeming it safe to leave Curthose in Normandy, requested the honour of his company. In England, however, there was work for a warrior to do. Malcolm, King of Scots, crossing the Tweed, began once more to ravage Northumberland, and Curthose, placed at the head of an army, was sent to repel the invader. But in this expedition the heir of Normandy had no opportunity of winning new laurels. Malcolm, alarmed at the approach of so redoubted a champion, retreated rapidly to his own dominions; and Curthose, to leave some memorial of his northern expedition, erected a strong fort on the Tyne, to which was given the name of Newcastle.
Matters so far went smoothly; but in the year 1083 Matilda of Flanders died; and soon after the queen's death, the quarrel between the Conqueror and his heir broke out afresh.
