At Nottingham Richard held a council, on the second day of which (March 31) he “prayed that justice should be done him”[210] on John and on John’s chief abettor, Bishop Hugh of Chester. The council cited both delinquents to appear for trial within forty days, and decreed that if they failed to do so, or to “stand to right,” Hugh should be liable to a double sentence--from the bishops as a bishop, and from the laity as a sheriff,[211]--and John should be accounted to have “forfeited all claims to the kingdom,”[212] or, as a later annalist explains, should be “deprived and disinherited not only of all the lands which he held in the realm, but also of all honours which he hoped or expected to have from the Crown of England.”[213] Neither in person nor by proxy did John answer the citation. At the end of the forty days three earls set out for the court of France “to convict him of treason there”; but of their proceedings, too, he took no notice. The forty days had expired on May 10; on the 12th Richard sailed for Normandy.[214] Landing at Barfleur, he went to Caen and thence turned southward to relieve Verneuil, which Philip was besieging. On the way he halted at Lisieux, where he took up his quarters with the archdeacon, John of Alençon, who had been his vice-chancellor.[215] He soon noticed that his host was uneasy and agitated, and at once guessed the cause. “Why do you look so troubled? You have seen my brother John; deny it not! Let him fear nought, but come to me straightway. He is my brother, and should have no fears of me; if he has played the fool, I will never reproach him with his folly. Those who contrived this mischief shall reap their due reward; but of that no more at present.” Joyfully John of Alençon carried the tidings to his namesake of Mortain: “Come forward boldly! You are in luck’s way. The king is simple and pitiful, and kinder to you than you would have been to him. Your masters have advised you ill; it is meet they should be punished according to their deserts. Come! the king awaits you.” In spite of these assurances, it was “with much fear” that Count John approached his brother and threw himself at his feet. Richard raised him with a brotherly kiss, saying: “Think no more of it, John! You are but a child, and were left to ill guardians. Evil were their thoughts who counselled you amiss. Rise, go and eat. John,” he added, turning to their host, “what can he have for dinner?” At that moment a salmon was brought in, as a present for the king. As the chronicler remarks, “it did not come amiss”; Richard immediately ordered it to be cooked for his brother.[216]