A queen, my lady?
She laughed outright. Aye, a queen. My son is to be King of England and he needs a queen. England needs a queen. And I have found one in Navarre. In truth, Richard himself found her, three years ago. He met her at her fathers court and wrote to me about her then. Her name is Berengaria, daughter of King Sancho, and now that Richard is no longer betrothed, I intend to generate a marriage. Sancho should prove to be a staunch ally in this coming war, accustomed as he is to fighting off the Moors who threaten him down there in his Iberian wilderness, and I feel confident he can be persuaded to dower his daughter amply for her role as queen consort. And be assured, Richard and England will make good use of whatever he provides for their Holy War.
Berengaria. That is a beautiful name. But King Sancho? I have heard, it seems to me, of a Prince Sancho
Eleanors eyes sought his, narrowing intently, but she detected no awareness of her sons rumored misconduct with the young Prince of Navarre. The Prince is Berengarias brother. When his father dies, he will become the seventh king of that name. For now, he is a nonentity, but I have great hopes for his sister. I have not met her yet, but by all accounts, including my sons own, she is a gentle, biddable creature perhaps not greatly beautiful as we envision beauty, but regal nonetheless. So, if I can arrange the match, I will bring her to Richard before he leaves for Outremer.
The carriage slowed and came to a swaying halt as she spoke, and a babble of voices sprang up outside, with orders and instructions being shouted on all sides. Eleanor listened for a moment, then began to gather up the few belongings scattered on either side of her as St. Clair pulled aside the curtains and peered out into the gathering dusk.
We have arrived, obviously.
The words had barely left her mouth when de Neuville rode up and bent forward in his saddle. A few moments more, my lady, and you will be able to alight. Everything appears to be prepared, and by the smell of things, the cooks have done well. Rest you there for a few more moments, if you will, until your carriage can pull forward safely to your tent. A hundred paces, even less, and you will be there. He glanced at St. Clair. Sir Henry, I have your mount secure. My groom will care for it tonight with my own. He saluted Eleanor and swung his horse away, and the Duchess smiled at St. Clair.
Well, old friend, our visit is at an endthe most enjoyable part of it, at leastfor when that door opens next, I must go back to being Eleanor of Aquitaine, with all the nonsense that attends upon being a Duchess restored to her holdings. She reached across spontaneously and gripped him by the wrist. It has been so wonderful to see you, Henry, and to spend this time with you. Men of your stamp are few and far between in my life nowadays. May God, if He is up there at all, bless you and your son in your future adventures, and may He forgive me for these next words. Put not your faith in princes. I know not who first said that, but he had the truth upon him when he did. Be careful of my son. I love him despite all he is in many ways, but I warn you as an old and trusted friend: do all you can for him but be you not too trusting, for he is governed by factors you cannot control, and guided by lights you would never wish to see or understand. She drew her head back, her eyes narrowing, her fingers still gripping his wrist tightly. I tell you that out of love, Henry a womans love for an admirable man overcoming a mothers love for a wayward sonbut if you ever say a word of it to anyone, I shall deny I said it and wreak official retribution on you in return. You hear me?
I do, my lady, and I shall heed your warning, unspoken though it was.
The carriage began to move again, lurching off the road and into the crowded meadow where the tents had been set up. Eleanor began to gather her skirts about her with one hand, bracing herself against the motion of the vehicle with the other by clinging to a braided silken cord handle on the wall by the door, until they came to a halt again.
Gods throat, I wish you well, my friend. Now, when the brouhaha begins, get you away from here and find Brodo, my steward. Tell him I sent you and he is to feed you well and find you some place suitable to sleep. I may not have the time to speak to you again and I know you will have no wish to waste your time among the fawning, squawking fowl that flock about me everywhere I go. Eat well, sleep well, then ride home early and continue your preparations to do your duty by my son. And so farewell.
The carriage door swung open, and Sir Henry went out first into the clustering crowd, turning to hand the Duchess down safely. He bent over her hand and pressed it to his lips, and she smiled, then tapped him on the crown with one finger of her other hand before stepping past him to be engulfed by the multitude of her admirers.
FOUR
Henry St. Clair discovered, very rapidly, just how great a sacrifice he had made for his temperamental liege, Richard Plantagenet. Within days of his encounter with Duchess Eleanor, he found himself being inundated with new responsibilities, tasks, and activities springing from his appointment as Master-at-Arms, and soon he barely had time to notice how quickly the days and weeks were passing. It all culminated a month later, when he received a summons to join Richard in England immediately, and from that moment onward, he could not call his life his own.
How soon is immediately? Henry had barely glanced at the writing on the scroll that he had opened mere moments earlier, but that glance had taken in the peremptory instruction.
The Hospitaller knight who had delivered the summons shrugged his wide shoulders and lowered his eyes to the scroll Henry was holding, but he said nothing and his face remained expressionless. Sir Henry looked back down at the scroll.
I see. Its all in here, eh? Well, you had better sit down while I read it. Have you eaten today? No, probably not Henry turned to where Ector stood by the door, watching and awaiting instructions. Bring food and drink for Sir He turned back to the other man. Do you have a name, Master Hospitaller, or are you merely a grim and spectral presence? Speak up, sir.
My name is Gautier, Sir Henry. Gautier de Montdidier.
Montdidier, you say? Then we should know each other. Henry moved to sit in a chair by the fireplace, waving to the other man to sit across from him. An ancestor of yours and one of mine were among the founding members of the Temple. Did you know that?
I did.
Then why do you wear the black mantle of the Hospital rather than the white of the Temple?
Montdidiers lip curled in a smile, and he dipped his head slightly to one side. Mayhap I prefer it that way, but in truth I have followed the Rule of Blessed Benedict since I was a stripling boy. I was orphaned at birth and raised in a monastery in England, so when I came of age to be a knightmy father had been one, killed in battle before I was bornit was but natural that I should join the Knights of the Hospital.
Aye, I suppose it would have been Ector, food and drink for Sir Gautier de Montdidier, and see to it that his men are fed, too. How many did you bring with you, sir, and where are they now?
Six men, Sir Henry, and they are all in your courtyard, awaiting word from me on where they should go next.
Aye, well, they may stay here for the night, but that will depend upon just how immediately I am to leave, so permit me to read this missive of yours, and I will be able to give you a response.
In truth, Sir Henry had been ready for weeks, having put all his arrangements in place to ensure that his estates and lands would be cared for in his absence, presided over by a man Henry had known and trusted for years, the eldest brother of his dead wife. But the instructions in Richards letter were succinct and to the point. Henry was required to make his way to England as soon as might be, in the company of Sir Gautier de Montdidier, there to take up his duties as Master-at-Arms to Aquitaine.
The distinction did not escape him, and it was an interesting one. There had been no mention of Aquitaine in his first meeting with Richard. The position he had been ordered to take up then had been Master-at-Arms to Richard, no more and no less. It was a small point, of no real consequence since Richard, as Duke, was Aquitaine, but Henry found its presence there in Richards letter amusing. He surmised that the political situation in England had changed since Richards return, and probably radically. But he was far from unhappy with the new development. He would feel much more comfortable as Master-at-Arms to Aquitaine, a position he had held and enjoyed for years in the service of the Duchess, than he would as Master-at-Arms to an army of Englishmen, with their guttural morass of a language.
The distinction did not escape him, and it was an interesting one. There had been no mention of Aquitaine in his first meeting with Richard. The position he had been ordered to take up then had been Master-at-Arms to Richard, no more and no less. It was a small point, of no real consequence since Richard, as Duke, was Aquitaine, but Henry found its presence there in Richards letter amusing. He surmised that the political situation in England had changed since Richards return, and probably radically. But he was far from unhappy with the new development. He would feel much more comfortable as Master-at-Arms to Aquitaine, a position he had held and enjoyed for years in the service of the Duchess, than he would as Master-at-Arms to an army of Englishmen, with their guttural morass of a language.
There was no mention of André in the letter, but Henry had expected none. André had seldom been at home since first meeting the knight de Sablé, and he seemed to be enthusiastically caught up in preparations required for his upcoming admission to the ranks of the Temple Knights. Henry knew he would meet his son again in England before they set sail, and he was content with that, knowing the young man to be safe and well. He released the end of the scroll, allowing it to spring back into its cylindrical shape, then held it between the fingertips of both hands as he looked over to de Montdidier.
Why you, Sir Gautier? Why did Richard send you to bring me to England, with but six men? Did he think me incapable of traveling alone?
I doubt that, Sir Henry. I believe it was the Kings wish that you and I spend some time together, so that we could converse on the journey.