Devil's Consort (45 page)

‘Eleanor!’

The fervour in his voice caused me to look back, to look carefully. Since Vitry, Louis was rarely fervent. Beneath the pale, strained features there was animation. And excitement. His eyes shone with some inner thought, the habitual shroud of self-loathing and abject penitence ripped apart.

‘Louis. I have just returned—’

‘Yes,’ he interrupted, advanced on me. ‘I have news.’

There was even a flash of hectic colour along his cheekbones. Something had stirred his blood and he
could barely contain his words. Perhaps God and all his angels had granted him a personal audience.

‘Good news, I presume.’

‘The best.’

He gripped my hands and leaned to kiss my cheek. His palms were hot, clammy. His lips against my skin burned moistly as if a fever gripped him. I could feel the beat of his heart shudder through his body, and felt a pang of concern.

‘Louis … Are you well?’ I asked, placing my hand on his forehead, then pulling him with me to sit on the edge of my bed. ‘You have a fever.’ I narrowed my eyes, making a more detailed reconnaissance of his body. Even clothed as he was, he was distressingly thin. ‘Have you eaten today?’

‘No. This is one of my fast days. I fast three days a week.’

By the Virgin! ‘It’s too much. You are ill—’

‘No! Listen to me!’ His hands squeezed my fingers until I hissed in pain. ‘It’s Outremer.’

‘What about Outremer?’

I knew of it, of course, its history. Outremer, the name given to the Latin kingdoms established in the Holy Land, after the victory of our knights over the Turks in the First Crusade. My own family history was firmly connected with it. My grandfather had gone crusading there. Raymond had travelled to be Prince of Antioch.

‘It is in danger, Eleanor. Great danger.’ Louis’s fingers
gripped harder. ‘The Turkish leader Zengi has declared war. News has reached me.’ Now his nails dug into my flesh in his urgency. ‘An army of Saracen Turks led by Zengi has captured the city of Edessa. Do you not see? This opens the way for them to capture Antioch—and then the kingdom of Jerusalem.’

That took my attention, of course. Raymond under threat of imminent attack.

‘All the conquests of the First Crusade, all the victories, will be undone,’ Louis continued. ‘The Christian shrines will come under Turkish rule and we will be banned from them.’

‘Well, yes. But I don’t see—’

‘I should go.’ Louis announced it, like a peal of bells, his voice ringing from the walls. ‘Think about it, Eleanor. Think of what I could achieve in God’s name.’ The words tumbled from him. ‘I should raise a mighty army and go to their relief. I should deliver the Christian states of Outremer from the Infidel.’

An invasion of the Holy Land? A new Crusade? My blood chilled. Louis’s lack of success in warfare had been spectacular. The thought of him taking on the Turks filled me with horror. ‘But, Louis, you must think about this …’ I released my hands from his, cupping his shoulders, trying to make him concentrate on me, on good sense.

There was no reasoning with him.

‘I have thought. I would make reparation for Vitry. I would make reparation for my sins.’ His voice lowered
as if he recounted a secret, leaning close to me, eyes glittering unnervingly. ‘I have always dreamed of carrying the Oriflamme of France, our sacred banner, to the Holy Land. When I was ten years old I made a vow to honour my poor dead brother Philip who should have been King. I vowed to take the Oriflamme on a pilgrimage and place it on the altar of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. Here’s my chance. It is ordained by God, and he will forgive me my sins. I will raise an army.’

‘Is it wise?’

‘It is the way to my salvation.’

Such conviction, but without hope of fulfilment, of course. ‘I’m sure that one day you’ll find a way to your salvation, Louis,’ I soothed. Such an outrageous plan. I doubted Abbot Suger would agree. I stroked his back as a mother might pacify her restless child.

‘I’ll do it, Eleanor!’ Suddenly his arms were strong round me and he was kissing me, full of nervous determination, urging me back onto the bed. ‘I can already taste the sweetness of victory,’ he murmured against my temple. ‘It’s a magnificent idea.’

‘No, Louis …’ Holy Virgin! I did not want this.

‘Yes! I will lead a new Crusade!’

I tried to push him away, and thought I had succeeded, but Louis simply stripped away his monkish robe, unaware of the ugliness of his mortified flesh. The abrasions from the hair shirt were things of horror. I could count every rib, the bones of his spine stood out
in clear profile while the jut of his hip bones was almost obscene.

‘And you are as beautiful as the day I met you, Eleanor. I have missed you. You will give me inspiration for my Great Quest.’

Oblivious to my shrinking flesh, Louis was kneeling beside me, over me, pushing up my skirts. I sank my teeth into my bottom lip, submitting to him because I must. Hands rough with need, he did nothing to rouse desire in me. A rapid, grunting possession that emptied his seed in me was the best that could be said for it. I dared not make the comparison between this and my body’s delight in the Angevin’s caresses.

Louis did not notice my lack of enthusiasm. At least it was quick.

Pushing himself away, he retrieved his hair shirt and robe from the floor and shrugged into them, mercifully hiding his thin flanks and wasting flesh. He smiled at me. ‘I pray that you will bear another child, Eleanor. A son this time. If I do not return from the Holy Land, if I die there, it would be good to leave France with a male heir.’

‘Pray God I shall. I’ll do my best.’ I pulled my skirts into order, cringing at the sticky remnants of his pleasure.

In truth I did not expect anything to come of Louis’s new obsession, rejecting it as the product of a disordered mind, brought on by too much fasting and long hours in prayer. I gave it no thought, and when my
bleeding returned with its habitual regularity, I forgot the whole episode. Louis’s prayers for a son had gone the same way as his vision of holy restitution, leading an army towards the gilded domes of Jerusalem.

I was wrong.

‘My lord!’ Clearing his throat, part exhilaration, a greater part nervousness, Louis rose to his feet. The Great Hall at Bourges swam with colour and clamour: the remnants of feasting. Christmas Day. A day of joyous celebration.

‘My lords!’ Louis raised his hands to demand silence. He looked like a half starved jackdaw amongst a flock of bright and keen-eyed hawks. Not even for Christmas had he made the effort to appear kingly but appeared in a drab tunic with unspectacular decoration. When all eyes were on him, some interested, some sceptical, not a few disdainful, he made his announcement. ‘I have to tell you of the secret in my heart.’

His face was flushed, but not from wine, his eyes flitting restlessly over his subjects. Here was Louis trying to sell his dream of a crusade to his jaundiced barons. From within his robe Louis produced a document with a heavy seal. I tried to smother a sigh.

‘This is from His Holiness the Pope.’ He glanced round to get the measure of his audience. They were not roused at the prospect, whatever it was. A number buried their noses in their cups and belched. ‘His Holiness exhorts me to raise an army and deliver the
states of Outremer from the Infidel. He urges me to go on Crusade.’

Silence. What did he expect? A shout of joy at the prospect?

Louis continued, eyes searching the sea of blank faces for encouragement. ‘I will launch a crusade to liberate the city of Edessa from the Turk, and protect Jerusalem. I want you to join with me, to give me your knights and your silver and come with me. It will be a penance. It will bring us expiation for our sins. God will smile on us and grant us forgiveness.’

Silence. Apart from the clearing of a throat, the shuffle of feet or a scratching hound.

God’s wounds, Louis! This is about as appealing as a dish of cold pottage. Give them a cause to fire their blood!

‘We will go crusading to the Glory of God!’ Louis exhorted. ‘I have promised His Holiness that France will lead the conquest. Are you with me, my lords? You will pave your paths to heaven and God’s salvation.’

The faces remained closed to him, Louis’s vassals as well as my own from Aquitaine. I watched them, and read in them the same contempt that stirred me. Penance and salvation was no way to their hearts. Louis sat down heavily, at a loss.

‘What will it take to persuade them of the rightness of this Great Cause?’

Some faith in your ability to lead an army to victory would go a long way, I thought. They’ll remember
Toulouse and Champagne. I’d not leap to follow you to Outremer.

‘Now, if I had the ability of your grandfather, Duke William …’ Louis was muttering. ‘To move men to give their lives and pockets for the cause of the Cross.’

‘Duke William made it sound exciting,’ I responded with flat honesty. ‘You made it seem as enticing as an offal pudding.’

‘It is a holy mission! It is not frivolous, Eleanor. It is the chance of a lifetime!’

A chance of a lifetime.

Oh! An idea curled in my mind. A vision so desirable. Suddenly a vast horizon opened before me. An adventure, a gilded opportunity … An escape! My heart leapt, a single heavy bound against my ribs. Before I knew it I was on my feet on the dais.

‘My lords.’ I had their attention, some astounded, some disapproving, all intrigued. ‘His Majesty speaks of the value to your souls. I would speak of something quite different.’ I could hear my voice. Clear, feminine, persuasive. Certainly not weak. I looked around the hall, drawing these puissant barons to me. Oh, yes. I had their attention. I raised my hands, palms up in heartfelt plea. ‘I would speak to you of the earthly glory of such a venture. As you are all aware, Duke William of Aquitaine acquitted himself well in the Crusade. His songs tell of the bravery and magnificent exploits of the knights who gave themselves to the cause. Do you not recall? Their spectacular march through the lands of
Europe, armour gilded by the sun, banners unfurled.’ My voice warmed, became more vibrant as I painted the picture I wished them to see. ‘Do you not recall the tales of their pride and superb achievements? Of the days of high adventure? Men still sing the praises of those first Knights of the Cross. Would you not wish for that? For your wives and children to know you too as heroes and adventurers?’

Their faces were no longer unresponsive. I had them in the palm of my hand.

‘The lands of Outremer are richer than we can imagine. Look at the opportunity for those of you who yearn after more land, more wealth. My own noble uncle, Raymond of Poitiers, is Prince of Antioch. Who knows what earthly reward lies in store for any one of you? If the cost of such a venture troubles you …’ I let my lip curl infinitesimally ‘ … I wager you will recover your outlay ten times over. What is not to like in His Majesty’s plan to take the Cross? Are you cowards that you will sit in France, on your estates, whilst other go crusading in your name? I call you to wealth and fame and everlasting glory in God’s name.’

Even I was moved by my call to arms, but it was in my blood and the words would not be held back. Beside me I felt Louis’s anxious circumspection, but I was not deterred.

I drew a breath as certainty grew in me.

I had not said the half of it yet.

‘I too will go on Crusade,’ I announced. ‘I will ride
at the King my husband’s side.’ And then I dropped into the familiar
langue d’oc,
letting my eye rest on the faces of my own vassals. ‘I will lead my own to the Holy Land. Will you follow me, men of Aquitaine? Will you ride with me to free Outremer from these barbarians who would rob us of our right to stand at the site of Christ’s birth?’

My mind was full of it. For me a way out of the imprisoning life in Paris, chained to a husband who was no husband. My blood surged with it.

I awaited a response.

‘It is no place for a woman to travel with an army.’

One voice that I could not pinpoint, but the
langue d’oeil
was of the north. I raised my chin, raised my voice above the deep rumble of voices as the assembled barons considered my one weakness.

‘Do you say?’ I walked from my place at the table, brushing past Louis, to stand at the very front of the dais, daring any man to challenge me. ‘No place for a woman? In my grandfather’s day, he was joined on the march by the Margravine Irene of Austria. A woman as famous for her beauty as for her strong will. She raised her troops from her own lords and rode at their head. Am I capable of doing any less as a woman of Aquitaine?’ I smiled down at my seated vassals. ‘I am young and strong. The Margravine Irene could give me a good few years when she raised her banners.’ A rustle of laughter. ‘My lords! I can outride any one of you here!’

A cheer rose to the stone arches above our heads, swelling, reverberating as the idea and enthusiasm took hold.

‘Will you follow me and take the Cross?’ Now I strode along the front of the dais, kicking aside my skirts. ‘I will ride before you like Queen Penthesilea who led her fabulous Amazons to victory, a female warrior, in the siege of Troy. I will ride before you like that warrior queen of old, leading you to glory. I have as much strength and courage as she. Will you follow me, men of Aquitaine? Men of France? For gold and land and everlasting fame in the songs of the troubadours?’

A moment of quivering silence. Would they do it? I found that I was holding my breath. Would they give me the weapon to strike the shackles from my wrists and restore to me my freedom?

‘Deus vult! Deus vult!’

God wills it. The old Crusader battle cry. It crashed against the walls from a hundred male throats. And I looked down and back at Louis where he still sat, hands loose on the table. He blinked at me in consternation. It was laughable, but I did not even smile my victory.

‘There, Louis. You have your support for the Crusade.’

And I had my escape.

Poor Louis smiled weakly, unsure whether my intervention was for good or ill.

Abbot Suger trembled with fury.

‘You did not consult with me, sire.’ He barely
bordered on the polite. ‘You would take an army and a full treasury of gold out of France for a mission that is not guaranteed success?’