The Rebel Princess (15 page)

“Je crois que vous avez raison, Princesse
,” he finally agreed. He scanned my face, then added: “It is surely not a gift you would want to flaunt, not in these times.”

“Let us understand one another, Abbé,” I leaned my head closer to him, as if I were about to impart a state secret of immense impor
tance. “I am a
princesse
of the house of Capet, a daughter of the kings of France. I am not an ignorant farm woman to be cowed. Nor am I afraid of men. You have your realm of power, and I have my own. Let us each respect the other’s province.” I carefully pulled the glove back over the withered hand, looking all the while at the prelate. “Or let us openly declare war.” I withdrew the hand out of sight and laid it in my lap, sitting back in my chair.

I had seen him flinch and that was enough for me. I turned away and made an effort to take no further notice of him.

A servant came between us to pour wine, and in that instant my aunt Constance demanded the abbot’s attention. I looked out over the table at the milling crowd, nursing my thoughts. I had been brave, nay perhaps foolhardy, to set that discussion in motion. Still, we had taken the measure of each other. I had now been introduced to the real Abbé Amaury, a driven and unscrupulous man, one willing to threaten obliquely and perhaps powerful enough to breach the protection of the crown. And he was now, officially, my declared enemy. I didn’t need the gift of second sight to tell me there was a feeling of apprehension gathering in the pit of my stomach.

Suddenly my morose musings were interrupted and all thoughts of Amaury fled. I saw de la Ronde, who had just entered the hall with three men, nearly running toward the king’s dais. He clutched a scroll and had not even taken the time to doff his hat. I placed a hand on my brother’s arm, and nodded toward his aide. When de la Ronde reached us he bounded up the short distance and came directly to the king, falling on one knee. Philippe’s attention was fully engaged.

“De la Ronde, what is the meaning of this interruption?”

“Your Majesty, this message just came for you. The page carrying it says it is urgent. It is from your head counselor, Sir Etienne Chastellain.”

Philippe motioned de la Ronde forward and took the scroll, frowning.

“Shall I see an answer delivered to the chief minister, Your Majesty?” De la Ronde’s face was grave.

Philippe held up his hand as he shook open the scroll. His lips tightened as he read the contents. Amaury and my aunt brought their odd exchange to an end as their attention was drawn by the disturbance.

When he had finished reading, the king rose and motioned to William, who came immediately to the king’s side. They moved a bit apart from the table. On impulse, I slipped from my chair and joined them. William put his hand on my shoulder and drew me closer as my brother was speaking in a low tone.

“William, would you see what this means? I can scarce credit this news from my chief minister.” Philippe handed him the rolled message. Those at the king’s table had momentarily ceased conversation when the messenger arrived, but the hubbub slowly began again.

William scanned the note, glanced at me and then at the king. “What would you have me do, sire?”

Philippe looked briefly at me before he spoke to his friend.

“I want you to go to St. Denis immediately, this night, and see what has happened. If this message proves true, I order you to leave for Toulouse at dawn.”

“What is so important that you must send William away? He has scarce arrived at court.” My rising voice betrayed my concern as I suddenly thought of Francis. He would go with his lord. Must he now, so soon after our reunion, be separated from me? And on the day of his friend’s murder on the field!

“Raymond must hear of this matter directly from my personal envoy.” The king’s tone was stern. “There is too great a chance for misunderstanding if it were otherwise. Alaïs, we are trying to avoid war. I am sorry for it, but this is no time for personal consideration.”

“But what could be so important?” I persisted.

The king shook his head, his face grim. “Etienne writes that a
theft has taken place at St. Denis.”

“A theft? Why would they disturb you at dinner for a simple theft from the abbey?”

Philippe leaned closer to me, and spoke so low I could scarce catch his words. “The chalice we talked of earlier, the one with the gold braid wrapped around the stem.”

“The cup of Saint John? The one Raymond gave you for safekeeping?”

“Yes. Well, it’s gone. And the sacristan on duty, who may have seen the thief, was killed in the event.”

“Murder in a sacred place!” While I had no love for the fanatics of religion, I was a great believer in spirits. It was not wise to tempt them with such acts.

“There is some political aspect to this, I know it.” Philippe could not hide his distress. “This theft and murder is an effort to divide Raymond and myself even further, but I don’t know who is behind it.”

“That explanation assumes the thief knew that the chalice belongs in Toulouse,” I said sensibly. “We don’t have evidence of that yet, Your Majesty.”

“That’s why you are to investigate now, William, and leave immediately for the south if the report proves true. The disappearance of the chalice could affect the success of your diplomatic mission to Raymond’s court, as well, and destroy all Our efforts to avert war. Someone wants you to fail and they want to see France weakened. We must discover who or what conspiracy did this dastardly act.”

I recalled the abbot’s words, uttered moments earlier: “What a threat the war that is sure to come could pose to a France already weakened by John of England.” My sense of foreboding increased as I watched William move swiftly through the hall with de la Ronde. He would be leaving and so I would lose Francis yet again. I was certain of that. But, for once, I could summon no vision, no picture that might help me know what was to come after.

P
ARIS
C
OURT

L
ater that night, I was roused from a sound sleep by a familiar voice. “Your Grace! Mistress! Princesse Alaïs!” The thin, sweet voice rose as it called each new title. The wave of sound was moving unmistakably closer to my ear, and I could no longer ignore it, although I could scarce pull myself upward from my deep slumber. I had been dreaming of a flock of doves, pure and white, flying low against a blue summer sky. I desired to join them and began to float upward. One dipped low and brushed my forehead.

“Your Grace, you must attend. Please, wake. Please!” I opened my eyes and saw my maid’s sweet face hovering over me, unaware that the end of her soft veil was brushing my face. Her own countenance, seen in the uncertain light of the candle she held high over my head, was the picture of dismay.

“What is it now?” I asked, sleep crowding
my voice. “Have I not just begun my rest for the night?” But I struggled to sit upright with her help. Even in my half-awake state I knew that Mignonne never disturbed me without good reason.

“Princesse, you are needed at once in the courtyard.” She was breathing heavily, as if she had been running.

“The courtyard? At this hour? Have you gone mad, Mignonne? It is quite the middle of the night. Even the moon has gone to sleep.” I was still brushing the cobwebs of dreams from my eyes with the back of my hand.

“No, my lady. It is the Lord William who sent for you. His man is even now standing at the door, waiting to escort you.”

I glanced to the still-open door and saw the outline of a burly man of some height, holding high a torch that flickered in the gusts of air that swept through the open spaces along the outer wall. His cloak danced around him.

I sprang from my bed, throwing a fur robe around my shoulders, stuffing my feet into the felted-wool slippers that stayed always by my bed. They were a protection against the cold stone that could be sensed even through the rushes covering the floor.

“Run ahead, Mignonne, and tell the Lord William that I come in haste.” As I entered the outside corridor the winds that flew through the palace in the winter, especially at night, clipped my face. Mignonne, fleet-footed always, flew on ahead while the man with the torch stayed just in front of me.

I used the wall along the way to steady myself, my right hand sliding over the moss that lined the stone stairway, the flickering light of the torch held overhead providing little help in the narrow, winding passages. Even though there were rough stone edges jutting out from the wall, the slime that covered them did not allow for a good hold for my hand. I was forced to feel each step with my toe before proceeding, which slowed my progress considerably. A mouse squealed under my foot and, no doubt as startled as I, fled.

Why was William sending for me at this odd hour? Something must have happened. Perhaps he had changed his mind, and was willing now to let Francis stay! I hardly dared to hope, but what else could this summons mean?

As I came into the courtyard I spied him immediately, always nearly half a head taller than the knights who surrounded him. I ran forward.

“William!” I called out. “Will you let Francis stay after all?”

He was busy shouting orders to the right and to the left, and his groom was saddling his horse with dispatch. William turned at the sound of my voice. He appeared oblivious to my question.

“Alaïs, you have come. Good,” he said, in the terse manner he adopted when he was commanding his men or his servants. “Come, I must talk with you where we will not be disturbed.” So saying, he drew me to the side of the courtyard, where there were no men or servants, and very little moonlight. It was impossible to read his expression, but somehow I knew my initial guess had been an arrow well off course.

“William, why did you send for me?” He was pulling me along, in his hurry, to a place where a bench sat against the outside wall. The milling men and horses were only two stones’ throw away, but I blocked the noise so as to focus on what he had to say. After drawing me to sit near him, he hesitated, seeming to have trouble finding the words to speak.

“Alaïs, it’s about Francis,” he began. My heart leaped.

“Oh, William.” I placed my hand on his arm. “You will let him stay with me after all.” He stared at me for a moment, as if I had lost my senses.

“Changed my mind?” he echoed, then shook his head with some impatience. “Christ’s blood no, the very opposite. Alaïs, listen to me. I could not leave without telling you. I know you will hear the news at first light from someone in the court.”

“Hear what?” I leaned closer as his voice had dropped.

“Francis is gone.”

“Gone?” I repeated the word like a village idiot.

“He should have been waiting for me when I returned from your chamber tonight. I had sent him his instructions before I left for St. Denis, and it is unlike him to be late. He knows my impatience. Still, I had preparations to make, so I took little note when he was not in my apartments.” He pressed his temples with his thumb and fingers, as if to erase an ache that lurked there. “When my preparations for the journey were complete and he had not appeared, I sent two of my squires to fetch him. They were back in minutes to summon me. They said I must see what they found.”

“What they found,” I said. This time it was not a question. A cold feeling, as if I were touched by ice, began to take me over. I shivered.

“It appears that Francis has been abducted, Alaïs.” William threw his arm across my shoulders as I began to sink backward, a sudden grayness overcoming my vision, a buzzing in my head. “I wanted to tell you myself before I left,” he added stiffly, as a soldier would give a report from the field to his captain. His words sounded hollow, as if they had traveled through a great tunnel to reach me.

“Alaïs.” William was shaking me, now reaching around to lightly slap my cheek with his free hand. I could feel the sting.

“Tell me what occurred,” I said with an effort. “How do you know Francis has not simply gone off to have some time on his own? Has this aught to do with your plans to take him to the south? Perhaps he does not want to go.” As the questions crowded forward I felt the cold of a moment earlier giving way to the warmth of anger. My back stiffened as I pulled away from his touch, and I could feel his arm around me loosen.

“We don’t know exactly what has caused his disappearance,” he responded. When I said nothing in reply, he cleared his throat. “This event, coming close on the heels of the tourney this afternoon, may be
a warning intended for my house. I will discover what lies behind it, and I will find young Francis. I pledge that to you.”

“Francis was despondent over young Geoff’s death. Perhaps he needed time to think, to collect himself.” I rambled on, ignoring William’s words. I knew I was grasping at wheat stalks, but I cared not. “Or it may be that he decided to ride into the forest.”

“In the middle of the night?” William asked, incredulous. “I think not.” His voice was firm in contrast to mine. “It would be unlike Francis to go off on his own without telling me, when he knew we were to travel at dawn. And there is more. We found signs of a struggle in his apartment, papers scattered about, his travel
sac
tossed in the corner. Not the sort of thing one would find if a considered journey had been undertaken.” He paused as he took a small roll from inside his clothes. He held up the item, shaking it out so I could see. “This was left, or dropped, at the scene.”

“I can’t make it out in the dim light,” I said, feeling desperation creep over my body. In truth, my eyes would not focus on the page.

“It’s a map of the area around Toulouse. And it is not crafted in the hand of Francis.” He drew me from the bench to stand under a torch fixed into the wall. “And look, there are several towns near Toulouse circled. There they are.” He jabbed a finger into the document. The vellum rustled in the predawn breeze. “Foix, of course. And Lavaur and Laurac. These towns must have some meaning for those who took Francis.”

“So you think someone dropped that map accidentally as they took Francis?” I looked him full in the face as I flapped a hand dismissively in the direction of the map. The torch behind me threw his face into relief and I saw the lines in his forehead and around his mouth deepen. “I find that highly doubtful,” I muttered.

“Why so?” He folded the map and tucked it into his doublet.

“Because I don’t believe those who abducted Francis would be so careless as to leave behind a map showing where they intended to take
him.” I announced this boldly, forcing myself to a spirited stance.

“So you think someone left this to deceive us as to where they have gone?” William’s voice was becoming more formal, a bit crisp. I noticed his arm had now dropped from supporting me in response to my contentiousness, as if to say that I was now on my own. “I don’t think you understand how confusing an abduction scene can be.”

“And I suppose you do know how confusing such a scene is. You have abducted men yourself, no doubt, in your role as leader of the Knights Templar in England.” I heard my baiting words but it was as if someone else were speaking them. I had no control. I only knew a fury was rising within me.

“Alaïs, let us not quarrel now.” William’s tone indicated our conversation was at an end. He looked down on me. “I must be off on the king’s business, to tell Raymond of the theft of his chalice and to fulfill my diplomatic responsibilities while I investigate the murder of the monk at St. Denis. But I shall make the search for Francis my first task. I will not fail in this. He is as dear to me as to you.”

I looked up to meet his gaze. “William, I must join you. If you think Francis has been taken to Toulouse, I will accompany you there and see for myself. My maid can bring clothes in an instant. Look, she stands yonder waiting.”

He shook his head with determination.

“Please, I must go with you.” I was ashamed to hear the pleading that entered my voice, so firm only moments before. But I was desperate to take action, any action, to find Francis. Anything would be better than dithering among the fools in the royal court whilst my son was in danger. “I must find Francis. He must know that I am his mother!”

“Alaïs, there is no possible way…” William’s hand came up to catch my elbow, with an iron grasp, a gesture meant to reinforce the finality of his tone.

I shook mysef free. “Very well. If you are set upon your road,
so be it. But you force me to conduct my own search, with my own methods.”

“Princesse”—his voice was more intense than before—“I must warn you that there are sinister forces connected with this affair that you know nothing about. I have certain information…This action is intended as a warning only for me. Let me attend to it.” He paused, as if he already regretted saying too much. After a breath he continued, in a more restrained tone. “I will do everything in my power to bring your son home to you, but you must stay out of this. You would only complicate matters, and place yourself in danger doing so.”

“I must do what?” My back straightened as I took in his final words. I stepped back slightly, tilting my head upward to meet his look. “How dare you issue orders to me, a
princesse royale
of the house of France!”

“This is a matter for men, Princesse! Leave it!” William’s tone was now angry enough to draw the attention of his knights in the middle of the courtyard. The group ceased their milling and preparations for mounting, and fell silent, casting mute glances our way.

William looked in their direction, and said, more discreetly: “Have a care, Princesse. We draw attention ourselves.”

“I care not, Lord William, whether or no we draw attention. I tell you I will not be ordered about by anyone.” My own voice was ringing out. “And I will use every means in my power to find young Francis. Every means! Whether it is to your liking or not.”

I turned and stalked away, flinging my final comment over my shoulder: “And when I find Francis, I will tell him the truth about his lineage. You shall not prevent me this time!” I was gone from the courtyard before he could answer. I did not look back.

I could not know how I would come to regret my rash exit from our conversation nor how different the circumstances would be when William and I should finally meet again.