AbouttheBook

When William X dies, theduchy of Aquitaine is left tohis fifteen year-old daughter,Eleanor. But such a positionforanunmarriedwomanputsthewholekingdomatrisk.Soon his deathbed Williammadeawillthatwouldensurehis daughter’s protection: hepromised her hand in

marriagetothefutureKingofFrance.

Eleanor grows into aromanticandbeautifulqueen,but shehas inherited thewillof a king, and determines torule Aquitaine using herhusband’s power as King ofFrance.Herresolveknowsnolimit and, in the years tofollowshewastobecomeoneof history’s most scandalousqueens.

‘Miss Plaidy, whosemeticulous attention tohistoricaldetailcanseldom,ifever,befaulted,haswovenavivid novel to launch thePlantagentsagaonwhatwill,undoubtedly, be a top sellingcourse.’SouthWalesArgus

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Contents

CoverAbouttheBookTitleCopyrightPraise for Jean

PlaidyAbouttheAuthorAvailable inArrow

BooksbyJeanPlaidyFamilyTree

Eleonore andHenry

I: Duchess andQueen

II: Petronelle andtheCount

III: The Lovers ofAntioch

IV: The RoyalDivorce

V: Queen ofEngland

Henry andThomas

VI: The King’sWill

VII:FairRosamundVIII: The Rise of

BecketIX: The Abbess

BrideX:TheVacantSeeXI: The Rising

StormXII: The King’s

TriumphXIII: Flight from

EnglandXIV: Rosamund’s

BowerXV: Traitor’s

MeadowXVI:MurderXVII: The King’s

Remorse

Bibliography

Jean Plaidy, one of the pre-eminent authors of historicalfiction for most of thetwentieth century, is the penname of the prolific Englishauthor Eleanor Hibbert, alsoknownasVictoriaHolt. JeanPlaidy’snovelshadsoldmore

than 14 million copiesworldwidebythetimeofherdeathin1993.

For further informationaboutJean Plaidy reissues andmailinglist,pleasevisit

www.randomhouse.co.uk/minisites/jeanplaidy

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PraiseforJeanPlaidy‘Avividimpressionoflifeat

theTudorCourt’DailyTelegraph

‘Oneofthecountry’smostwidelyreadnovelists’

SundayTimes‘Plaidyexcelsatblendinghistorywithromanceand

drama’NewYorkTimes

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exciting’DailyMirror

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thepastwithsuchrich

complexity’Guardian‘Plaidyhasbroughtthepast

tolife’TimesLiterarySupplement

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fascinating’ManchesterEveningNews‘Excitingandintelligent’

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thosedays’LaurenceMeynell

AvailableinArrowBooksbyJeanPlaidyTheTudors

UneasyLiestheHeadKatharine,theVirginWidow

TheShadowofthePomegranate

TheKing’sSecretMatterMurderMostRoyalStThomas’sEveTheSixthWife

TheThistleandtheRoseMaryQueenofFrance

LordRobertRoyalRoadtoFotheringayTheCaptiveQueenofScots

TheMediciTrilogyMadameSerpentTheItalianWomanQueenJezebel

ThePlantagenetsThePlantagenetPreludeTheRevoltoftheEaglets

TheHeartoftheLionThePrinceofDarkness

TheFrenchRevolutionLouistheWell-BelovedTheRoadtoCompiegne

Flaunting,ExtravagantQueen

ELEONOREANDHENRY

ChapterI

DUCHESSANDQUEEN

From a window of theChateau de l’Ombriere theDuke of Aquitaine lookeddown on the scene in theshaded rose garden. It was

one to enchant him. His twodaughters - charmingcreaturesbothofthemthoughthe elder of the two,Eleonore,surpassedinbeautyher sister Petronelle - weresurrounded by members ofthe court, young men andwomen, decorative andelegant, listening now to theminstrelwhowassinginghissongoflove.

TheDuke’seyes restedon

Eleonore, for she was at thecentre of the group. Somequality in her set her apartfromtherestofthecompany.Itwasnotonlyherbeautynorwasitherrank.Shewasafterall the heiress of Aquitaineuntil its Duke begot a sonand, widowed as he was, hemustbestirhimselfifheweretodoso,foralthoughhewasbut thirty-eight years of age,hehadlosttwowivesandtheonly outcome of those

marriages was his two girlsEleonore and Petronelle.Eleonorewastallandshewashandsome; there wassomething commandingabout her; she had the air ofone born to rule. There wasalso a sensuality. He sighed,thinking of his father whoselife had been dominated byhis devotion to the oppositesex and wondering whetherhis attractive daughterwouldfollowhergrandfatherinthat

respect.

She was fourteen years ofage, Petronelle three yearsyounger. Yet there was aripeness about them both,even little Petronelle. As forEleonore, she was ready formarriage. And if anythingshould happen to him beforethis event took place, whowould protect her? Heimagined her in her rosegarden surrounded by her

minstrelsandtheladiesofhercourt; and some suitor ridinginto the castle. There wouldnot only be Eleonore’s vastlands and fortune to attracthim but the fascinatingEleonore herself. And if sherefused to marry? He knewthe manners of the day. Thelovely maiden would beabducted, held prisoner,deflowered if she would notyield willingly and placed insuch a position that her

family would be eager tomarryhertoherravisher.

Itwashardtoimaginesucha fate forEleonore.Yetevenshe would be forced tosubmit.

HethankedGodthatithadnotcometothat.Herehewasamanofthirty-eightwithtwoattractivedaughters.Hemustmarry and beget a son. Yetwhat ifheweretomarryandthere was no son? It was a

logical assumption as so farthere had been onlydaughters. How often wereroyalmaleheirselusive.Whyshould he have been givenonly daughters? As wascustomary with men of histimes he asked himselfwhether God was punishinghim for his sins or perhapsthesinsofhisforbears.

His fatherhadbeenoneofthemostrenownedsinnersof

hisage.Womenhadbeenhisdownfall.Hehadlefthiswifeand set up his mistress ingreat state, even having animageofherengravedonhisshield. William the ninthDuke ofAquitaine had carednothing for convention, andalthough the greatest motivein his life had been thepursuit ofwomen, thiswas acommon enough quality - orfailingdependingon thewayone looked upon it - and he

was renowned rather for hisloveofpoetryandsong.ThisDuke’sidealstatehadbeentolie with his mistress of themoment and listen to thestrumming of the harp, andthe songs, which were oftenof his own composing, sungby his minstrels. He wascalled the Father of theTroubadours and Eleonorehad inherited his talent inthis; she could compose apoem,setit tomusic,playit,

singitandattractedtoherthefinestsongstersintheDuchy.What else had she inheritedfromhergrandfather?Havingnoted theexpression in thosebig languorous eyes as theyrested on various comelygentlemen, the Dukewondered.

Whatheshoulddowasgeta son quickly and find ahusband for Eleonore. Butneitheroftheseprojectscould

be achieved without a greatdeal of thought. A husbandfor Eleonore now when shewas the heiress could easilybe found but it would berememberedthatshecouldbedisplaced if her father had ason. And to have a son hemust first find a wife! Notthat that presented any greatdifficulty.Whathemusthavewasafruitfulwife.Andtherewas the gist of the matter.Who could say until a man

wasmarriedwhetherhiswifewouldgivehima son?Whatifhemarried to find the ladybarren or capable only ofgivinghimdaughters?

So this was his dilemma.Should he marry again andtry for a son? Or should heacceptEleonoreastheheiressof Aquitaine? What of herhusbandifshemarried?Quiteclearly,ifsheweretoremainheiress of Aquitaine there

was only one husband whowould be worthy of her andthatwas the son of theKingofFrance.Sohewas tornbydoubtsashelookeddownonthescene,inthegarden.

He sent for Eleonore.Because she was clever andcould read andwrite - a rareaccomplishment - becauseshealreadyseemed to regardherself as the potential ruler

of Aquitaine, because hermind was agile and to beadmired as much as herbeauty, he had talked to herfor some time as he wouldhave talkedwith someofhisministers.

Shecameinfromthewarmsunintothecomparativechillof the castle, wrinkling hernose a little for the smell ofrushes after the rose gardenwas none too pleasant. She

would order the serving-manto sweeten the place. Itshould have been done aweek ago. Rushes quicklybecameunpleasantlyodorous.

Her fatherwouldbe inhisapartmentwhichwasreachedbyastaircaseattheendofthegreathall.Thishallitselfwasthemainroomofthecastle.Itstretchedfromoneendtotheotheranditreacheduptotherafters.The ducal apartments

weresmall incomparisonforitwasinthehallwithitsthickstone walls and narrow slitsof windows that the courtspent most of its time. Herecourtiers danced and playedthe harp and sang; here theladiessatandembroideredasthey told tales and sang theirsongs;andbecause thecastlecouldnotaccommodate themall they lived inhousescloseby where they could bewithinreachofthecourt.

Eleonore mounted thestairs to her father’sapartment.

Hestoodupassheenteredand,placinghishandsonhershoulders, drew her to himandkissedherforehead.

‘My daughter,’ he said, ‘Iwouldspeakwithyou.’

‘I guessed it, Father, sinceyou asked me to come toyou.’

Some might have saidcommanded. Eleonore mustbe asked, never commanded,and graciously she grantedtherequest.

Her father smiled at her.He would not have had herotherwise.

‘You know, Eleonore, mydear daughter, that I amdeeplyconcerned.’

‘Forwhatreason?’

‘Ihavenomaleheir.’

She lifted her headproudly. ‘And why shouldyou need a male heir whenyouhaveadaughter?’

‘Aye, a fine daughter.Mistake me not. I am awareof your qualities. But menseemtofollowmen.’

‘Theywill bemade to seethat there are timeswhen fortheirgoodtheymustfollowa

woman.’

He smiled at her. ‘I doubtnot that you would makethemunderstandthat.’

‘Then,Father,youhavenoproblem.Cometothegardensand you shall hear myminstrels sing my latestsong.’

‘A treat I shall enjoy, mydear daughter. But it issuggested to me by my

ministers thatmydutylies inmarriage.’

Eleonore’s eyes blazed insudden anger. Anothermarriage! A half-brother todisplace her! That wassomething she would doeverything in her power toprevent. She loved this fairlandofAquitaine.Thepeopleadored her. When she rodeout they came out of theircottages to see her, to give

many a heartfelt cheer. Shebelieved that they wouldneverfeelsowarmlytowardsanybutherself.Oh,shewasawomananditmaybethathersex was against her; but hergrandfather, Duke WilliamIX, had loved women,idealised women; he hadinstitutedtheCourtsofLove;he had composed poetry andsongs in favour of love, andwomen had been the mostimportantfactorinhislife.So

whyshouldnotthenextrulerof Aquitaine be a duchessinstead of a duke? It waswhat the peoplewanted. Sheherself wanted it; andEleonore had already madeup her mind that what shewantedshewouldhave.

‘And if you married,’ shecried,‘howcouldyoubesurethat youwould get thismaleheir by which you set suchstore?’

‘I am content with mydaughters.’Hequailedbeforeher fury, which was in itselfridiculous.He,a fatherandaduke, to be overawed by agirl, andhisdaughterat that!Whyshouldhefeel thisneedto placate her? ‘It is myministers…’hebeganfeebly.

‘Then your ministers mustneedsmindtheirownaffairs.’

‘Dear daughter, this is anaffairoftheDuchy.’

‘Very well then, marry,and I’ll swear you will soonbe making a pilgrimage tosomesaint’sshrineaskingforafruitfulmarriage.’

‘Apilgrimage?’

”Tis the custom. But Iwonderatyou.Youhavesinsto answer for, Father. Youneed redemption even asmygrandfatherdid.’

‘I never lived the life he

did.’

‘His sins were committedin theCourts of Love. Thereare others which have to beanswered for. You haveoffended many, Father. Itmay be that the prayers ofyour enemies would beanswered, prayers forretribution and not yours forforgivenessofyoursins.’

‘Daughter, you turn all toyouradvantage.’

‘MayhapIupholdthetruth.I was ever one who likedplain speaking and alwaysshall.’

‘So then let us have plainspeaking.Youaretheheiressof Aquitaine and aredeterminedtoremainso.’

‘It is my wish and naturalinme.A poor ruler I shouldbeifIdidnotviewthelossofmy inheritance withabhorrence. Ifyoumarryand

thereismaleissueIshouldbedisplaced. The people wouldregretit.’

‘Nay,theywouldnotregretmygivingthemaduke.’

‘Firstyouhavetogetyourlittle duke, and God hasshown you in two marriagesthatitisdaughtersforyou.’

‘If you believe this youwill not be disturbed at theprospectofmymarrying.’

‘I shall be disturbed byyourdisappointment,Father.’

He laughed at her. ‘Mydear Eleonore, you are adiplomatist already.And youbutfourteenyearsofage!’

‘Ihavemadefulluseofmyfourteen years, sir, andsomething tells me that Godwill never give you a malechild.’

‘Have you become a

prophetthen?’

‘Nay.Somany royal lordsmarryforsons.TherewastheKing of England, think howhestroveforason.Andwhathappened? His marriage wasbarren.Therewasamanwhohad scattered his bastardsthroughout the realms ofEngland and Normandy, buthe had one legitimate sonwhowasdrownedat sea andnever could beget another.

God denied his dearestwish,as he may well deny youyours.IbelievethatHenryofEngland regretted his secondmarriage. Of what good wasit? It did not bring him thevery thing he married for.Sons.’

‘He was a man who hadledalifeofgreatimmorality.’

‘He and your father werealike in that. Perhaps he didnot repent enough and so

Heaven turned a deaf ear onhisentreaties.’

‘I am no Henry I ofEngland.’

‘Nay, Father, you are not.ButyoustoodoutagainstthePope. It may be that he isasking Heaven not to grantyour wishes for that veryreason.’

The Duke was silent. Hehad wondered the same

himself.WasHeaven againsthim for supportingAnacletusII against Innocent II whenalmost the entire worldagreed that Innocent was thetrue Pope? He had beenforced togive in in time,butit would be rememberedagainst him.When Henry ofEngland had died andStephen of Blois hadproclaimed himself king, theDuke had joined forces withGeoffreyofAnjouandsought

to subdue Normandy andbring thatdisturbeddukedomto Geoffrey, the husband ofMatilda, Henry’s daughterwho many said had moreright to England - andNormandy - than the upstartStephen. And what hadfollowed?Bitterdefeat!

He, like his father, hadnever been aman to indulgein warfare. Aquitaine hadbeen secure for generations

and its people enjoyed apeaceful life. The Duke hadhated war. He could notforget thesightofmendyingaroundhim;theheart-rendingwailing of women andchildren driven from theirhomes.

Could it be that he hadoffended God and that untilhe received absolution hecouldnothopeforason?

He wanted to explain to

this vital girl of his why hewanted a male heir. Hewanted her to understand thedifficultiesthatcouldbefallawoman. She never wouldbecause she saw nodifficulties. Yet they werethere.

He wanted to see a songrowing to manhood, a sonwho would take the reins ofgovernment in his handsbefore his father died. That

would give continued peacetoAquitaine.

Thentheideacametohimwhich had come to so manybefore him. He must placatehis God and the one way todo this was to go on apilgrimagetoofferhomagetothe shrines of the saints.Themost ardent sinners gainedabsolution in this way. He,the tenth Duke William ofAquitaine,wouldfollowtheir

example.

‘What Imust do,’ he said,‘isgoonapilgrimage. Iwillvisit theshrineofasaintandthere I shall gain forgivenessofmysins.WhenIhavedonethis I shall come back andmarry,andGodwillgrantmetheblessingofason.’

Eleonore narrowed hereyes.

The pilgrimage would not

be achieved in a few weeks;then there would have to bethe matter of selecting asuitablebride.

It was always best to putoff evil for as long aspossible. There was a gooddeal to be done before herfather couldmarry and begetason.

Something told Eleonoreheneverwould.

There was the bustle ofpreparations. Having madehis decision Duke Williamfelt serene in his mind. Hewas to travel to the shrineofSaint James at Compostellaandtherehewouldprayforafruitful marriage. Hisdaughter watched hispreparations with a certaincynicalsatisfactionas thoughshe knew his prayers wouldremainunanswered.

He felt contrite in a way,for he loved her dearly. Headmired her, as did mostpeoplewhowereawareofherdominant personality. If onlyshehadbeenof themalesexhewouldhaveaskednothingmore. He wanted her tounderstand thatonly inbeingfemale had she failed. Andnotforhim;likehisfather,hehadtheutmostadmirationforher sex, but it was others hemustconsider.

Atthemomentshewastheheiress of vast possessions.RichAquitainecouldbehersand thereby put her incommand of as muchterritory as that possessed bythe King of France. It wastruethattheywerethevassalsof theKing of France but inname only. The kings ofFranceknewthatthedukesofAquitainewielded asmuch -perhaps more - power thanthey did. It was a matter of

formthatthedukesbowedtotheking.

‘It is a hazardous journeyto Compostella,’ said theDukeonedaytohisdaughter.‘It is that which makes itcertainthatanywhoreachit,bytheveryarduousnatureoftheir journey, will have theirprayersanswered.’

‘You are a fool toundertakesuchhazards.’

‘Ifeelittobeaduty.’

‘Duty! Bah! Butmake thejourney if you wish it. Andseewhatcomesofit.’

‘Would toGod itwerenotnecessary, Eleonore. I thinkof you constantly. I find ithardtoleaveyou.’

”Tisofyourchoosing,’shetoldhimcoldly.

‘Not mine, but those towhom I owe a duty. I shall

takefewmenwithme.’

”Twould not be fitting totravel in great state on suchanerrand,’sheagreed.

‘And I would leave mybravest behind to protectyou.’

‘Icanprotectmyself.’

‘There is no harm inhaving a stalwart guard.AndI shall confer with the KingofFranceforhewillbeeager

to come to your aid if Ishouldaskhim.’

‘Youwouldtrusthim?’

‘Yes, if his sonwereminealsoandmydaughterhis.’

‘Youmeanamarriage!’

‘Yes. A marriage betweenyou and the son of theKingofFrance.’

Shesmiledquietly.Well,itwasnotabadprospect.Ifshe

were going to give upAquitaine she would beQueenofFrance.

LouisVIwas so large thathe was known as Louis theFat. He could not possiblylive much longer. RumoursfilteredintoAquitainethathewas confined to his bed andbecause of his immense sizenoonecouldlifthimfromit.He had been over-fond offood and this was the result.

His sonwas a boy a year orso older than Eleonore. Sheliked what she had heard ofyoung Louis. He should beeasily governed by adominating wife. And shemust marry soon. Only sheknew how close she hadcome to submitting to theardours of some of heradmirers. There weremembersofhersexwhowerewomenattheageoffourteen.Eleonore of Aquftaine was

one of them. It was amercythat she was ambitious andproud; this saved her frombeing carried away by herintensephysicaldesires.

She, more than any, knewthat for her marriage shouldnotbelongdelayed.

‘When I return,’ said herfather, ‘I must marry; andthen there must be a doublewedding. When my bridecomestoAquitaineyoumust

gotothecourtofFrance.’

‘But would the King ofFrancewishhisson tomarryme if I were not yourheiress?’

‘The King of France willrejoice in an alliance withrich Aquitaine. He is astuteenough to know its worth.And there areno alliances tocomparewiththoseforgedbymarriagebonds.’

Shenoddedgravely.

It was a bright prospect,but she was unsure. If shecould bring Aquitaine to herhusband she would bewarmly welcomed. Butotherwise?

It was a cold January daywhen the Duke set out forCompostella.

His daughters were in the

courtyard wrapped in theirsable-lined cloaks, to wishhimGodspeed.

‘Farewell,’ said the Dukeembracing first Eleonore andthen Petronelle. ‘God guardyou.’

‘Rather let us ask Him toguard you, Father,’ saidEleonore.

‘He will smile on mymission,restassuredofthat,’

repliedtheDuke,‘andwhenIreturn I shall be free of myburdenofsiri.’

Eleonore was silent; shehad suggested he postponehis journey for itwas foolishto set off in winter. She hadbelieved that it was alwaysgood to postpone that whichone hoped would never takeplace. But the Duke wasassuredof theurgencyof theundertaking and would not

considerdelay.

‘He will suffer for hisfoolishness,’ Eleonoreconfided to Petronelle, whoagreed with her sister. ForPetronelle, like many others,adored her dazzling eldersister.

When the cavalcade hadclatteredoutof thecourtyardEleonore and her sister wentuptothetopmost turret theretowatchitsprogress.

One would never haveguessed that itwas theDukeof Aquitaine who rode at itshead.Hewashumblydressedasapilgrimshouldbe,andhehad taken so few of hisfollowerswithhim.

The castle was wellfortifiedandEleonorewasitsmistress. If any dared comeagainst her there would bestalwart knights to protecther.Andnonewoulddarefor

was shenothalf promised tothe son of the King ofFrance?

Thiswas awaiting time, atimewhenthegreatfireinthecentre of the hall sent itssmoke up to the vaultedceiling and the smell ofroasting venison filled thecastle. It was too cold tofrolic in the beautifulgardens; they must perforcemakedowith the castlehall;

and there they feasted anddanced; they sang theirballads; they strummed theirharps and the sweet notes ofthe lute were heardthroughoutthecastle.

Over the entertainmentsreignedtheboldandbeautifulEleonore. Many of thegallants sighed for herfavoursandsheoftenthoughtof granting them; but theymust for the time content

themselves with singing oflove.

So while Duke Williamtraversedtheicyroadsonhisway to Compostella,Eleonore reigned supremesurrounded by hertroubadours. She might bedestinedtobecometheQueenofFrancebutshewasthefirstQueenoftheTroubadours.

Duke William quickly

realised how unwise he hadbeen to setout in thewinter.Theroughroadswereicy;thewind biting. Valiantly thehorses endeavoured to maketheir way but the going wasslow. Yet, said the Duke tohislittlebandofpilgrims,theveryfact thatwesuffer thesehardshipsmeansthatoursinswill be the more readilyforgiven. What object wouldthere be in travelling incomfort?Howcouldwehope

for our sins to be forgiven ifwe did not suffer for ourredemption?

When darkness fell theyrested wherever they foundthemselves. Sometimes itwould be in a castle,sometimes in a peasant’shumblehome.

TheDukethoughtmuchofthe castle of Ombriere andpicturedEleonoreinthegreathall,thefirelightflickeringon

herproudhandsomeface;theyoung men at her feetwatchingherwithyearningintheir eyes.Thatpower inherwouldattractmentoheruntilshe died. It was yet anotherinheritance of this richlyendowed young woman. Shecould take care of herself.That was his great comfort.Eleonore would lead others;noonewouldforceher todowhat she did not wish. Hethought of her - those large

eyes which could bespeculative when sheconsidered her future andsoulful when she listened tothe songsofher troubadours,that thick hair which fell toher waist, the oval face andthestronglineofthejaw.Hisgreat comfort was: Eleonorewill take care of herself nomatterwhathappens.

When he came back withthe blessing of Saint James,

whenhemarried andhis sonwas born, Eleonore wouldstill be a desirable parti.Would the King of Franceconsider her worthy of hissonwithout the rich lands ofAquitaine?

That was a matter to bethought of when the timecame. First he must get hisson.Nay,hethought,firsthemustgettoCompostella.

He had coughed a great

dealthroughthenightandtheicy winds had affected hislimbs; they felt stiff andunwieldy.Itwouldpasswhenhe returned to thecomfortofhishome.Onedidnotexpecta pilgrimage to be acomfortable holiday. Thesaint would be gratified thathehadenduredsuchhardshipto pay homage at his shrine.And when the weatherchanged and he could livecomfortably again, his cough

would go and the stiffnessleavehislimbs.

Thepartyhadcrossed intoSpain,butherethegoingwasrougher than ever. Thecountryside was sparselypopulatedandbecause itwasso difficult to get along theyoften found no shelter whennightfell.TheDukewasnowso weak that his followersdecided that theymust at theearliest opportunity construct

a litter that he might becarried.

Wishing to endure theutmost hardship, the Dukeprotested at first. Only if hesuffered would the saintintercede with such fervourfor him that his sins beforgivenandhegainhisgoal.But it was useless; he hadbecometooilltosithishorse;hemustsubmit.

There was no comfort in

being carried over thoserough roads.Hewas soon ingreat pain and it suddenlyoccurredtohimthathemightnever reach the shrine, thatthere would never be themarriage which would givehim the male heir forAquitaine.

Morosely he contemplatedthe future as he was joltedalong.

Eleonoretherichestheiress

in Europe and a girl offourteen. He should havebeen content with what hehadbeengiven.Notasonbutagirlwhowasasgoodasanyboy,agirlwhofailedonlyinher sex.And because he hadnot been content with whatGod had given him, he hadventured on this pilgrimagefromwhichhewasbeginningto wonder whether he wouldeveremerge.

Each day his dismalthoughts went back toOmbriere. What wouldhappenifhedied?Assoonasthat fact became known thefortune hunters would beunleashed.Ayoung,desirableand, above all, rich girl wasunprotected,andshewasripefor marriage. Adventurerswould come from alldirections;hecouldseesomeboldambitiousman stormingthe castle, capturing proud

Eleonore and forcing her tosubmit. Could anyone forceEleonore? Yes, if he hadhenchmen to help him in hisevil designs. The thoughtmaddenedhim.

Who was there to protecther? His brother Raymondwas far away in Antioch. Ifonly Raymond was at hand.He was something of a heroand the Duke had oftenthought that his fatherwould

have preferred Raymond tohave inherited Aquitaine.Very tall, fastidious in hisappearance, possessed of anaturalelegance,RaymondofPoitiers was born tocommand. He had been theideal crusader and was nowPrinceofAntioch,forhehadmarried Constance, thegranddaughter of the greatBohemond of the firstcrusade. But it was no usethinking of Raymond in far-

offAntiochasaprotector.

Could it be that he wasgoing to die? As each daypassedhisconvictionbecamestronger. He was finding itmore and more difficult tobreathe; there were timeswhenhewasnotsurewhetherhe was on the road toCompostella or fighting forpossessionofNormandywiththeDukeofAnjou.

In hismoments of lucidity

he knew that he mustabandon hope of reachingCompostella. His sins wouldbe forgiven but he must payfor forgiveness with his life.And his affairs must be inorder. He must be sure thatEleonorewasprotected.

There was one way to dothis.Hemust ask forhelpofthe most powerful man inFrance:itsking.

He would offer his

Eleonore to the King’s son.He had no qualms about theoffer being joyouslyaccepted. Louis had longcoveted the rich lands ofAquitaine and this marriagewould bring them to thecrownofFrance.

He called to his litter twoofthemenhemosttrusted.

‘Make with all speed toParis,’ he said. ‘Let it beknown that you come from

theDuke ofAquitaine. ThentheKinghimselfwillseeyou.Take this letter tohim. If theletter should be lost beforeyoureachhim,tellhimthatIwish a marriage between hissonandmydaughterwithoutdelay, for I fearmy days arenumberedandifthemarriageis not arranged others maystepinbeforehim.’

Having despatched themessengers the Duke felt

easierinhismind.Ifhewereto die, Eleonorewould be ingood hands, her futureassured.

King Louis VI of France,known as the Fat, lay on hisbedbreathingwithdifficulty.Hedeploredhisconditionandit gave him no comfort torealise that he should neverhaveallowedhimselftoreachsuch bulk. He had enjoyed

good food and had neverrestrained his appetite for itwas an age when men wereadmired for their size. If onewas rich one could eat toone’s fill; it was onlypeasantswhowenthungry.Ittherefore behoved a king toshowhissubjectsthathewasin a position to consume asmuch foodashisbodycouldtake.Butwhatatollittookofaman’sstrength!

He longed for the days ofhisyouth,whenhehadsathishorse effortlessly; now therewas no horse strong enoughtocarryhim.

It was too late to repine.The end was in sight in anycase.

He often said to hisministers that if only he hadhad the knowledge in hisyouth and the strength in hisold age he would have

conquered many kingdomsand left France richer thanwhen he had come to thethrone.

But was it not a well-known maxim: If Youth butknewandAgecoulddo.

Now he must plan for thefuture and he thanked Godthat he had a good heir toleavetohiscountry.

Godhadbeengoodtohim

whenhehadgivenhimyoungLouis. He was knownthroughout the kingdom asLouis the Young, as hehimself was known as Louisthe Fat. He had not alwaysbeen the Fat of course, anymore than his son wouldalwaysbe theYoung;sufficethat those were thesoubriquets by which theywereknownatthistime.

Young Louis was sixteen

years old - a serious boy,inclinedtoreligion.Notabadthinginaking,musedLouis.Young Louis had beendestined for the Church andnot to rule at all for he hadhad an elder brother.He hadspenthisearlyyearsatNotre-Dame and he had takenwellto the life. But it was not tobe. Fate had ordainedotherwise.

Bernard, that rather

uncomfortable Abbot ofClairvaux, who was inclinedto fulminate against all thosewhodidnotfallintolinewithhis beliefs - and none knewmore than rulers howirritating such prelates couldbe, for had there not alwaysbeen certain friction betweenChurch and State? - hadprophesied that the King’seldestsonwouldnot takethecrownbutthatitwouldfalltohisbrotherLouistheYoung.

TheKinghadbeenuneasy,for Bernard had a reputationformaking prophecieswhichcame true; and sure enoughthisonehad.

One day Philippe the heir,after hunting in the forest,came into Pariswhere a pig,running suddenly across theroad, tripped his horse.Philippe fell and struck hisheadagainstastoneanddiedalmostimmediately.

By this time Bernard hadbecome revered as a holyman who could see into thefuture,andyoungLouismuchtohisdismaywastakenfromNotre-Dametostudythecraftofkingship.

The boy had alwayshankered after the religiouslife.Perhapsitwasnotabadthing. A certain amount ofreligionwas good for a kingprovided it did not interfere

with duties. He would becalled upon now and then todefend his kingdom and hisfather hoped that when suchoccasion arose he would notbesqueamishaboutpunishingthose who rebelled againsthim. Young Louis was toogentle. Also he must get anheir. Louis had neverfrolicked with women. Somany young men of his agehad fathered a few bastardsbythistime.NotLouis.

Now theKing sent for hisson.

He sighed a little as theboystoodbeforehim.

‘Ah,’he said, ‘youseemeprostrate.Never indulgeyourappetite as I have done. It isnotworthit.’

‘Iseethat,Sire.’

‘Beseated,myson. Ihavenewsforyou.’

Louissatdown.

‘My friend and ally, theDuke of Aquitaine, is in thesame sad state as that inwhichIfindmyself.Itwouldseemneitherofusislongforthisworld.’

TheKingsawthelightsoffear spring up in his son’seyes. They did not mean somuch that he could notendure to lose his father asthat he feared the heavy

responsibility which thatdeath would place on hisshoulders. A king shouldneverbe afraidofhis crown,thoughtLouis theFat.Apityindeed that he had broughthim up in religion. But howcould he have known thatHeaven had already signedPhilippe’s death-warrant andsent a paltry pig to be hisexecutioner?

Louiswould forget thathe

had loved the ceremonies ofthe Church when those ofState were forced upon him.It was merely thecontemplationofgreatpowerthatfrightenedhim.

‘Therefore,’ went on theKing,‘Ithinkitwellthatyoushouldmarryandthatwithoutdelay.’

Now the boy was reallyfrightened. Thiswould neverdo. A pity he had never

dallied with a girl in somesecluded part of the huntingforests.Itwasallverywelltobe as he was if he remainedthesecondson.Buthewouldchangewhenhewasmarriedto a young and beautiful girland by all accountsEleonorewasthis.

‘Youcannotgetanheirtoosoon,my son. I have a bridefor you. I could not havechosen one who pleased me

more.TheDukeofAquitaineis dying, so his messengerstellme.Hehassufferedmuchhardship on the road toCompostella. His heiress ishis eldest daughter. She isfourteen years of age andverydesirable.Thereis tobeamatchbetweenyoutwo.’

‘Marriage,’ stammeredyoungLouis,‘sosoon…’

‘Without delay. It is whatthe Duke wishes. He has

placedhisdaughterundermyprotection. This is the finestthing that could happen toFrance.Eleonoreisheiresstoall the Duke’s dominions,Poitou, Saintonge, Gasconyand the Basque country. Icouldnothavechosenamoresuitablebrideforyou.’

‘Father, I am as yetunprepared…’

‘Nonsense, my son. Littlepreparation is needed to get

an heir.We shall put you tobed with this desirable andvery rich girl and you willknow what to do. Think ofthe good she can bring toFrance.Themorelandsunderour protection the lesslikelihoodofwars.Themorepowerfulwearethemorewecan work for the good ofFrance.’

‘The possession of landsoften leads to strife. They

mustbeprotected.’

‘They must indeed beprotectedandgoodwiselawsbemade for them. It will beyourdutytogiveahappylifetoyourpeople.’

Young Louis closed hiseyes. Why had this had tohappentohim?Whyhadthatmiserablepigruinedhis life?Philippe would have been agood king; he had beentrained for it.Andhe,Louis,

would have spent his life intherarefiedatmosphereoftheChurch.HewouldhavebeenthePrinceoftheChurch;howhe loved the sonorouschanting,thebeautifulmusic,the hallowed atmosphere.Andhe had lost this becauseGodhadcalledonhim todohisduty in adifferent spherefrom that for which he hadbeentrained.

‘I am sendingword to the

DukeofAquitainethatIshallcherishhisdaughterandthatIam losing no time inarrangingamarriagebetweenherandmyson.’

‘Father,istherenohelpforit?’

‘No help, my son. Thismarriage must take placewithoutdelay.’

‘How far to the shrine?’

whisperedthedyingDuke.

‘Butamileorsonow,mygoodlord.’

‘Thank God then, I shallreachCompostella.’

Just a little more pain toendure and salvation wouldbe his. Who would havethought that he should comesofarandenduresomuchtoaskforamaleheirandtofindinsteaddeath?

‘Therearemessengers,mylord Duke,’ said one of hisbearers.‘TheycomefromtheKingofFrance.’

‘Thank God then. ThankGodagain.Whatnews?’

‘TheKing,my lord, sendshisgreetings.Hewillcareforyourdaughterashewouldhisown for indeed he says ereyou receive thismessage shewillbealmost that.Forhe isbetrothing his son to her and

the marriage of France andAquitaine will take placewithoutdelay.’

‘Ishalldiehappy,’saidtheDuke.

So this was the answer.Eleonore would be safe. Shewould be Queen of Franceand what more could he askfor her than that? She wasborn to rule - not onlybecauseofherinheritancebutbecause of her nature. She

had the innate power toinspirerespectandlove.

Itwas said that theKing’sson was a serious boy,destinedfortheChurchashehad been. He had provedhimself to be a greatchurchman in the making,and would have been suchhadnotawaywardpigmadehim a future King of Franceand husband of Eleonore ofAquitaine.

‘Lift me,’ he said, ‘that Imay see the shrine of StJames.’

They did so and he wascontent.

Since her father’s absenceEleonore had been theundisputed mistress of thechateau. During the coldwinter’seveningssheandhercourtwouldrangethemselvesabout the great fire in the

centreofthehall;therewouldbesingingandmusicandshewouldjudgethemeritsoftheliterary compositions andperhapssingoneofherown.

This she enjoyed; to sitamong them, more elegantlyattired than any of the otherladies,more brilliantlywitty,while at her feet sat theknights gazing at her withadoration. The first lesson inchivalrywas theadorationof

women. Romance was thegreatestadventureoftheday.It was not so much theculmination as the dallianceon the way, althoughEleonore herself knew thatthat climax must inevitablybereached.Shethrilledtotheardent glances; she allowedherselftodreamoffulfilment,but in her heart she knewtheremustbesomedelay.

Sometimes she played a

game of chess with anadmirer,foritwaspartofthecourt education that anywhoaspired to gracious livingmust first master the game;she always found an elementof excitement in the conflictover the board; because shewasfightingabattleandfromthis she invariably emergedthevictor.

In the privacy of herbedchamber she talked with

hersister.Petronellebelievedthat everything Eleonore didwas right. She imitated hereldersisterinallthings.Nowtheir conversation centredround their father. Theywondered constantly whatwashappening tohimon thedangerousroads.

Petronelle turned toEleonore and said: ‘Do youthinkhewillcomeback?’

There was a faraway look

in Eleonore’s eyes; she wasgazingintothefuture.‘Itwasfoolish of him,’ she said, ‘toattempt such a journey atsuchatimeoftheyear.’

‘Whydidhenotwaituntilthesummer?’

‘It would have been tooeasy a journey. It had to behazardous that hemight earnforgivenessforhissins.’

‘Hadhesomany?’

Eleonore laughed. ‘Hethought he had. He wasobsessed by his sins, as ourgrandfatherwas.’

‘What about you,Eleonore? Have youcommittedanysins?’

She shrugged her elegantshoulders.‘Iamtooyoungtobe concerned with sins. It isonlywhenyou are of an ageto fear death that repentanceisnecessary.’

‘So we need not concernourselves with repentanceyet,sister.Wemaysintoourheart’scontent.’

‘Whatapleasantprospect,’criedEleonore.

‘Everyone in the castlerespectsyou,’ saidPetronelleadoringly. ‘I think they loveyou more than they did ourfather.Butifhemarriesagainandwehaveabrother…’

Petronelle looked fearfullyup at Eleonore who wasscowling.

‘It won’t happen, sister,’went on Petronelle quickly.‘Ifhemarriedhewouldn’tgetaboy.’

‘It maddens me,’ criedEleonore. ‘Why thisreverence for the male sex?Are not women morebeautiful, more subtle, oftenmorecleverthanmen?’

‘You are, Eleonore,clevererthananyman.’

‘Yet because they go intobattle, because they havegreaterphysicalstrength,theyregardthemselvessosuperiorthat a puny son would comebeforeafinedaughter.’

‘No son our father gotwould ever equal you,Eleonore.’

‘Yethemustundertakethis

pilgrimage in the hope thatSaint James will plead forhimandhecomesafelyback,marryandgetason.’

‘The saints will neverlisten to him. They will callhim ungrateful. God hasgivenhimyou,Eleonore,andheisnotsatisfied!’

Eleonorelaughedandblewakisstohersister.

‘At least you appreciate

me,’shesaidwithasmile.

She went to the narrowwindow and looked out onthebleakroad.

‘One day,’ she said, ‘weshallseeapartyofhorsemenon that road. Itwill eitherbemy father coming backtriumphantor…’

‘Or, what, Eleonore?’asked Petronelle who hadcometostandbesideher.

But Eleonore shook herhead.Shewouldsaynomore.

Itwasbuta fewdays laterwhen a messenger did cometothecastle.

Eleonore, who had beenwarned that he was sighted,was in the courtyard to greethim; sheherselfheld thecupofhotwineforhim.

‘I bring ill tidings, mylady,’ he said before he

would take the cup. ‘TheDuke is dead. The journeywastoomuchforhim.Ihaveasorrytaletotell.’

‘Drink,’ said Eleonore.‘Thencomeintothecastle.’

She took him into the halland sat with him beside thefire.Sheorderedthatfoodbebrought to him, for he hadriddenfarandwasexhausted.But first she must hear thenews.

‘He suffered towards theend, my lady, but neverwavered from his purpose.We carried him right to theshrine and that made himhappy. He died there in hislitter but not before he hadreceived the blessing. It washis wish that he be buriedbefore the main altar in theChurchofSaintJames.’

‘Andthiswasdone?’

‘Itwasdone,mylady.’

‘Praise be to God that hediedinpeace.’

‘His one concern was foryourwelfare.’

‘Then he will be happy inHeaven for when he looksdown on me he will know Icantakecareofmyself.’

‘BeforehediedhereceivedanassurancefromtheKingofFrance,mylady.’

Eleonoreloweredhereyes.

Therewouldbeawedding.Her own. And to the son oftheKingofFrance.LouistheFat would not have been soeager toallyhissonwithherhad she not been the heiressofAquitaine.

How could she grieve?How could she mourn? Herfather, who had planned toget an heir who woulddisplace her, was no more.Hisplanswereasnothing.

There was one heir toAquitaine. It was DuchessEleonore.

Young Louis was veryapprehensive. He was totravel to Aquitaine, there topresent himself to his brideandaskherhandinmarriage.That was a formality. Hisfather and hers had alreadydecidedthatthereshouldbeamatchbetweenthem.

What would she be like -this girl they had chosen forhim?At least shewasayearyounger than he was. Manyroyalprincesweremarriedtowomen older thanthemselves.Thatwould haveterrifiedhim.

Howhewishedthathehadremained inNotre-Dame.Helonged for the ceremonies inwhich he had taken part, thesonorous chanting of priests,

the smell of incense, thehypnoticmurmurofvoicesinprayer. And instead theremust be feasting andcelebration and he must beinitiatedintothemysteriesofmarriage.

He wished that he werelike so many youths; theylived for their dalliance withwomen; he had heard themboasting of their adventures,laughing together, comparing

their brave deeds. He couldneverbelikethat.Hewastooserious;helongedforalifeofmeditation and prayer. Hewantedtobegood.Itwasnoteasy for rulers to shutthemselves away from life;theyhadtobeat theheartofit.Theywere said togovern,butoftentheyweregovernedbyministers.They had to goto war. The thought of warterrified him evenmore thanthatoflove.

The King lay at Bethizyandthitherhadcomethemostinfluential of his ministers,among themtheAbbeSuger.Themarriage between youngLouis and Eleonore ofAquitaine had won theirimmediate approval. It couldonly be to the good of thecountry that the rich landsofthe south should come to thecrown of France. The Kingcould be assured that hisministerswoulddoallintheir

power to expedite themarriage.

The Abbe Suger wouldhimself arrange the journeyand remain beside the Princeashischiefadviser.

The King, who knew thatdeath could not be far off,wasanxiousthattheprogressfrom Bethizy to Aquitaineshould be absolutelypeaceful. There must be nopillaging of towns and

villages as the cavalcadepassedthrough.Thepeopleofthe kingdom of France andthe dukedom of Aquitainemust know that this was apeacefulmissionwhichcouldbringnothingbutgood to allconcerned.

He could rest assured thathis wishes would be carriedout,theAbbetoldhim.

He sent for his son. PoorLouis! So obviously destined

for the Church. And he hadheard accounts of Eleonore.A voluptuous girl ripe formarriage, young as she was.Shewouldknowhow towinLouis, he was sure of that.Perhaps, when he saw thisgirlwhoby all accountswasone of the most desirable inthecountry-andnotonlyforher possessions - he wouldrealisehisgoodfortune.

He told him this when he

came to his bedside. ‘Goodfortune,’hesaid,‘notonlyforyou, my son, but for yourcountry, and a king’s firstdutyistohiscountry.’

‘I amnot a king yet,’ saidLouisinatremblingvoice.

‘Nay,butthesignsare,myson,thatyouwillbeerelong.Govern well. Make wiselaws. Remember that youcame to the crown throughGod’s will and serve him

well. Oh, my dear son, mayall-powerfulGodprotectyou.IfIhadthemisfortunetoloseyou and those I send withyou, I should care nothingwhatevereitherformypersonormykingdom.’

Young Louis knelt by hisfather’s bed and received hisblessing.

Thenhe leftwithhispartyand took the road toBordeaux.

The town of Bordeauxglittered in the sunshine; theriver Garonne was like asilversnakeandthetowersofthe Chateau de l’Ombrierestretched up to a cloudlesssky.

The Prince stood on thebanks of the river gazingacross.Themomentwhenhewasbroughtfacetofacewithhis bride could not long be

delayed.

He was afraid. Whatshould he say to her? Shewoulddespisehim.Ifonlyhecould turn and go back toParis.Oh,thepeaceofNotre-Dame! The Abbe Suger hadlittle sympathy forhim.Asachurchman, he might havebeen expected to, but all hecould think of - all anyonecould think of - was howgood this marriage was for

France.

‘My lord, we should taketo the boats and cross toBordeaux. The LadyEleonorewillhaveheardthatwe are here. She will notexpectdelay.’

He braced himself. It wasno use hanging back. Whatwas not done today must bedonetomorrow.

‘Letusgonow,’hesaid.

Hewasridingtothecastleattheheadofthesmallpartyhe had taken with him. Hisstandard bearer held proudlythe banner of the goldenlilies. He looked up at theturret and wondered whethershewatchedhim.

She was there, exultantlygazingatthegoldenlilies,theemblem of power. Aquitainemightbe richbut akingwasnecessarily of higher rank

than a duke or duchess andeven if the acknowledgementof suzerainty was merely aform yet it was there, andAquitaine was in truth avassalofFrance.

And I shall be Queen ofFrance,Eleonoretoldherself.

Shecame to thecourtyard.She had taken even greatercare than usual with herappearance. Her naturalelegancewasenhancedbythe

light blue gown she waswearing;thiswascaughtinather tiny waist with a beltglittering with jewels. Shewas not wearing thefashionable wimple as shewanted to show off herluxurianthairwhichsheworehanging over her shoulderswith a jewelled band on herforehead.

She looked up at the boyon his horse as she held the

cupofwelcometohim.

Young, she thought,malleable. And her heartleapedintriumph.

He was looking at her asthough bemused. He hadnever imagined such abeautiful creature; her sereneeyes smiled into his calmly;thediademonherbroadhighbrow gave her dignity. Hethoughtshewasexquisite.

He leaped from his horseand,bowing,kissedherhand.

‘Welcome to Aquitaine,’shesaid. ‘Praycome into thecastle.’

Sidebysidetheyentered.

She told Petronellewhen hersister came to her chamberthatnight:‘MyFrenchPrinceis not without charm. Theyhave grace, these Franks.

They make some of ourknights seem gauche. Hismanners are perfect. At firstthoughIsensedareluctance.’

‘That passedwhen he sawyou,’ said the ever-adoringPetronelle.

‘I think it did,’ repliedEleonore judiciously. ‘Thereis something gentle abouthim.Theybroughthimupasapriest.’

‘Ican’timagineyouwithapriestforahusband.’

‘Nay, we shall soon leavethe priest behind. I wish weneed not wait for theceremony. I would like totake him for my lover rightaway.’

‘You always wanted alover, Eleonore. Father knewitandfearedit.’

‘It is natural enough. You

too,Petronelle.’

Petronelle sighed andraisedhereyestotheceiling.‘Alas,Ihavelongertowait.’

Thentheytalkedintimatelyabout the men of the court,their virtues and theirpotentialitiesaslovers.

Eleonore rememberedsome of the exploits of theirgrandfather.

‘Hewas the greatest lover

ofhisage.’

‘Youwillexcelevenhim,’Petronellesuggested.

‘That would be mostshocking in a woman,’laughedEleonore.

‘But you will be equal tomeninallthings.’

‘Ilookforwardtostarting,’saidEleonorewithalaugh.

The Prince loved to listen to

her singing and watch herlong white fingers pluckingthe lute and the harp; shesaid, ‘I will sing you one ofmyownsongs.’

And she sang of longingforloveandthattheonlytruehappiness in love wasthrough the satisfaction thiscouldbring.

‘How can you know?’ heasked.

‘Some instinct tells me.’Herbrillianteyeswerefullofpromise; even he found acertain desire stirring in him.He no longer thought soconstantly of the solemnatmosphereoftheChurch;hebegan to wonder whatmysteries he and his bridewoulddiscovertogether.

Sheplayedchesswithhimand beat him. Perhaps shehadhadmorepractice.When

hewaslearningtobeapriestshe had been brought up incourt accomplishments. Itwas a lighthearted battlebetweenthem.Whenshehadcheck-matedhimshelaughedandwasdelighted;itwaslikeasymboltoher.

Theywalkedinthegardensof the castle together. Sheshowed him the flowers andthe herbs which grew in theSouth. She told him how it

was possible to make curesand ointments, lotions tobeautify the skin and makethe eyes shine, a draught tostirareluctantlover.

‘Dost think that I shallneedtomakeoneforyou-‘

He caught her hand andlookedintoherface.

‘No,’ he said, vehemently.‘Thatwillnotbenecessary.’

‘Thenyoufindmycharms

enoughforyou,mylord?’

‘Enoughindeed.’

‘So that you long for ourmarriage?’

‘I yearn for the day,’ hetoldher.

Shedrewback,laughingathim.

Notbad formymonk, sheconfided afterwards toPetronelle.

The Abbe Suger, seeinghow their relationship wasripening, believed thereshould be no delaying themarriage. It was trueEleonorewasinmourningforher father’s recent death butthiswasaStatemarriageandthe sooner it was solemnisedthe better for everyoneconcerned.

He mentioned this to thePrinceandwasamazedbythe

alacritywithwhichhe-oncesoreluctant-agreed.

‘TheDuchessofAquitaineis an enchantress,’ said theAbbe.

It was July when theweddingtookplace.

Eleonore’swomen dressedher in her glittering weddinggown and shewore her longhair flowing. She sat on herglitteringlycaparisonedhorse

and rode through the streetsof Bordeaux to SaintAndrew’s Church where theceremony was to beperformedby theArchbishopof Bordeaux. What a day oftriumphfor thebride!Onlyayear ago she had wonderedwhethershewouldberobbedof her inheritance by a half-brother. But Fate hadintervened. No one couldcome between her and herambitionnow.

Shewas exultant and onlyalittlesadthatshehadhadtocome to her triumph throughthe death of a fatherwho, inher way, she had loved wellenough. But there was nodoubtofhersuccess.

Duchess ofAquitainewithnonetodisputeherclaimandsoon-shebelievedverysoonand so did everyone else -QueenofFrance.

Eleonore blossomed. Sensualin the extreme she foundmarriage to her taste. PoorLouiswasalittlelessardent-although there was no doubtthat he loved her with adeeper emotion than shecould muster for him.Eleonore loved love; shehadknown she would when as averyyounggirlshehadsungof it in the gardens. There,love had been glorified -romantic love. She wanted

that, but shewantedphysicalloveaswell.She itwaswholed the way in passion. Shemight have been experiencedin such arts; thiswasnot thecase; he was her first lover;but with her there was anatural knowledge andunderstanding.

They were glorioussummer days, spent inwatching the celebrations fortheir wedding and nights

spentinmakinglove.

There was music andsinging and Eleonore wasinitiating him into anappreciation for the chansonsand poems at which sheexcelled. It was a delightfulexistence but of course itcould not continue. Thecontests and tournaments inthecastlegroundsmustcometoanend,forthePrincemustreturntoPariswithhisbride.

She had through himbecome the Princess ofFrance; through her he mustbecome the Duke ofAquitaine.

Everywheretheywenttheywere met by rejoicingcrowds. Such an alliance allknewcouldbringnothingbutgood. The people ofAquitaine could shelterbeneath the golden lilies ofFrance and the kingdom of

France had gathered apowerful neighbour into itseagerembrace.

Thiscouldonlymeanmorehopes of peace and as whatwas more dreaded thananything by the humblepeople were armies invadingtheir homes and carrying offtheir goods and women, thiswas a desirable state ofaffairs.

They had reached Poitiers

and were enjoying a greatwelcome there, when theAbbe Suger came to theirapartmentinthecastlewherethey had been givenhospitality, and it was clearfrom his expression that hewasthebearerofillnews.

Hewasnotamantobreakbadnewsgently.

He bowed low. ‘Long livetheKing!’hesaid.

And Louis knew that hisfears were realised andEleonore that her ambitionwasachieved.

Her husband was now theKing and shewas theQueenofFrance.

‘So my father has gone,’saidLouisblankly.

‘He passed away in greatdiscomfort of body,’ said theAbbe.‘Buthispainsarepast.

Ifyouwouldobeyhiswishesyou will rule as he wouldhave wished - that is wiselyandwell.’

‘That I shall endeavour todo with all my heart andmind,’ replied Louisfervently.

The carefree honeymoonwasover though.Thereweretoomanywarringelementsinthe country for the youngLouis to be acceptedwithout

opposition.

It was not that the peopleof France wished to put upanotherkinginLouis’splace.Louis the Fat had kept themin order but he had notalwaysgiven themwhat theyconsidered their due. Nowthat a young andinexperiencedboywasonthethrone was the time todemandthoserights.

A fewdays after the news

of Louis VI’s death reachedthe wedding party there wasfurther news. This time of arisinginOrleans.

Abbe Suger told the newKingthatnowwasthetimetoassert his authority. How heacted nowwas of the utmostimportance. He must showhis people that while hewould be a benevolent rulerhe would be a firm one. Hemust say au revoir to his

brideandgowithallspeedtoOrleans and from there toParis.Eleonoreandhercourtshould follow him at amoreleisurelypace.

Louis, less disturbed byevents than a short whilebefore he would havebelieved possible, rode withhisarmytoOrleans.Hemustact in a kingly fashion; hewould not wish Eleonore todespisehimforheknew that

she, who was so strong andforcefulherself,wouldindeeddespiseweakness.Sohemustnotbeweak.

He prayed earnestly forwisdom to make the rightdecision and the strength toputitintoexecution.

He would carry a flowerEleonore had given him - arose from the gardens atOmbriere. She herself hadplucked it and pressed it.He

must carry it near his heartshehadtoldhim;hehadbeenenchantedwiththemixtureofromanticism and sensualitywhich made up his wife’scharacter, and her insistencethat the laws of chivalryshould be obeyed. Shefascinated him, shewhowassodeterminedtobetreatedasa tender woman and at thesame time so eager to beobeyed. She would expecthimtocomethroughthisnew

ordealwithhonour.

So he rode at the head ofhistroops,andhowdelightedhe was that the citizens ofOrleans, seeing him comewithhisarmy,quailedbeforehis might, and instead ofinsistingontheirduescravedpardon for their insolence inmaking demands to theirliegelord.

An easy conquest and hehadnodesiretobeharsh;his

advisers insisted that one ortwo leaders of the rebellionwere executed but he wouldnot allow others to bepunished. He even grantedsome of the reforms forwhich they had originallyasked.

The people of Orleanscheered him. In the verystreetswheretheyhadbandedtogether and sought a plotagainst him they now called:

‘ViveleRoi.’That matter was settled.

Louis rode on to Paris andthere he was joined byEleonore. The reunion wastender; they hadmissed eachothersadly.

‘Nowwemustthinkofthecoronation,’ declaredEleonore.

By December of that yearthe celebrations had been

planned and the great eventtookplace.

What a long way she hadcome in one short year!thought Eleonore withgratification.

ChapterII

PETRONELLEANDTHECOUNT

Shewasbrieflycontent.Shewas Queen of France, theleaderofthecourt,adoredbythe King, worshipped bythose whom she gathered

together that she mightinstruct them in the rules ofchivalry. She surroundedherself with poets andtroubadours.Towinfavouraman must be possessed ofexquisite manners; he mustknow the rules of theCourtsof Love; he must be able toexpress himself with graceand if hehad a good singingvoicesomuchthebetter.

She was the judge of the

literaryefforts;sheapplaudedor derided. During thesummerdaysshewouldsitinthe grounds of the castlesurrounded by young menand women, and she wouldimpart to them herphilosophyoflife.

The girls must obey her,admireherandemulateherasbest they could so that theywerepaleshadowsofherself,andshemightshinethemore

because of this. The youngmenmust all be in lovewithher,yearnforherfavoursandbereadytodiefor them,andshe would be gracious orremote; and nevermust theirpassion waver. They mustwrite their verses, sing theirsongs to her; they mustmingletalentwithdesire.Shewasdeterminedthatthecourtof France must be the mostelegantintheworld.

There was Petronellegrowingupveryquickly likea forced flower in this over-heated atmosphere. Menmade verses and sang theirsongs to her for after all shewas almost as beautiful asEleonore,andwashersister.

Howmuchmoreexcitingitwas to live at the court ofFrancethanthatofAquitaine,to be aQueen instead of theheiress of a Duke, providing

hedidnotgethimselfason.

It had worked out verywell.

Petronelle, followingEleonore in all things, wasgrowing more and moreimpatientofheryouth.

‘WeshouldfindahusbandforPetronelle,’saidEleonoretotheKing.

‘Why, she is a child yet,’saidLouis.PoorblindLouis,

thought Eleonore, the Kingwhoknewsolittle!

‘Some reach maturityearlier than others. MethinksPetronellehasreachedhers.’

‘Think you so then?Mayhap you should talk toher, prepare her. She shouldbe awakened gradually towhattakingahusbandwouldmean.Itcouldbeashockforaninnocentgirl.’

Eleonore smiled but shedid not tell him of theconversations she andPetronelle had together, andhad had for many years.Petronellewasnoinnocent.Avirgin perhaps but how longwould she remain so if theydidnotgethermarried?

Louis judged others byhimself. His innocence wasattractive to her … at thistime…thoughshehadbegun

to wonder whether it wouldpall. Sometimes her gazewould stray to older men,men experienced, with manyanamorousadventurebehindthem,andshewasjustalittleimpatientwith the naivety ofher husband. But it stillamusedhertobetheleaderintheir relationship, to lurehimtopassionofwhichhewouldnever have believed himselfcapable.

So she did not enlightenhim about Petronelle. At thesametimeshebelieveditwastimetofindahusbandforhersister.

Petronellewasnotofanatureto wait for others to arrangeheraffairs.

Like her sister she lovedthe sensuous strumming ofthe musical instruments andthe languorouswords hinting

atlove.

To be young wasfrustrating. It always hadbeen. And having afascinating sister such asEleonore did not help her tobearherlotmoreeasily.

Eleonorehadpromisedherthatshewouldfindahusbandforher, but theKing thoughtshewastooyoungasyet.

‘Too young,’ groaned

Petronelle. ‘The Kingbelieves everyone to be ascold-bloodedashimself.’

‘Have patience, littlesister,’cautionedEleonore.‘Iam not of that opinion. Iknow that if we do not giveyouahusband soonyouwilltakealover.Buthaveacare.It is always wiser to have ahusband first. That wouldseem toentitleyou to lovers.But a lover first… I believe

that might be a littleshocking.’

‘Youarealwayssingingoflove,’criedPetronelle.‘Whatistheuseofthat?’

Eleonorecouldonlyrepeather caution, adding: ‘Havepatience.’

Sheherselfhadlittleofthatuseful virtue. She wantedexcitement.Wasshegrowingtired of holding court, of

spending her nights with herseriousyounghusband?

While she was ponderingonhowsoonshecouldfindasuitable husband forPetronelle and get the girlsafely married, there weresignsofunrestinthecountry.She had always beeninterested in increasing herpowerandtheelevationfromDuchess to Queen hadenthralledher.Ithadbeenthe

dream of many a King ofFrance toextendhis territorythroughouttheentirecountry.Normandy, of course, wasfirmly in the hands of theKing of England - well,perhaps not firmly, for theCount ofAnjouwould neveraccept the fact that it didnotbelong to his wife, Matilda,and as they had a son,naturally they would wish torestoreittohim.

At this time Stephen ofBloishad taken thecrownofEngland, and it seemed verylikely that he would hold italthough Englandwas not ina very happy state. Matilda,whommanybelievedwasthetrue heiress, for she was thedaughter of the late KingHenry I, whereas Stephenwas merely his nephew,wouldneverceasetourgeherhusband and son to bestirthemselves to get back their

dues.

Suffice it then thatEleonore and Louis leaveNormandy out of theircalculations. But what ofToulouse? The fact that theCounts of Toulouse assertedthat theywere the true rulersof that province had alwaysrankled with Eleonore. Hergrandfather had marriedPhilippa of Toulouse, andEleonore maintained that

through this marriageToulouse had passed toAquitaine.

Eleonore discussed thiswithLouis.Hesawthepoint.

‘Mindyou,’hetemporised,‘I doubt whether the Countwouldagreewithus.’

‘It is not amatter for himto agree or disagree about.The fact is I have a right toToulouse through my

grandfather’s marriage and Isee no reason why I shouldwaiveit.’

‘Whydidyourgrandfatherand father never take it?’askedLouis.

Eleonore shruggedimpatiently.Shedidnotwishto recall that neither herfathernorhergrandfatherhadbeen noted for their successinbattle.Herfatherhadbeensomewhat inept politically

andhergrandfatherhadbeenmore interested in theconquest of women thanterritory.

She however was moreambitious. Within her therestill burned the resentmentengendered by her father’sdesire to displace a forcefulyoung woman, possessed ofall the attributes a rulershould have, for the sake ofan unborn child merely

becausehemightbeaboy.

‘Thefactthattheyallowedothers totakethatwhichwastheirs does notmean thatweshould.’

Louis was uneasy. Shecouldhaveshakenhim.

‘But Toulouse has beenindependentformanyyears.’

‘Iknow,Iknow!Whenmygrandfather went crusadinghe put it into the care of

RaymondSaint-Gilles.Itwastobeatemporarymeasure.’

‘But ithas remained inhisfamilyeversince.’

How impatient he madeher! She frowned and thenallowed her smile to becometenderly exasperating. ‘Mydear, dear Louis, you are sogentle, always ready todefend your enemies. I loveyoufor it,ofcourse,but it isnowaytorule.’

He could not endure herdisappointment in him. Shehadensnaredhimcompletely.Sometimes he wonderedwhether she had given himone of those potions she hadoncementioned.Hecouldnotbear that she should notadmire him. It was true thatheneededtobewar-like.Hisfatherhadwarnedhimthathemust be strong and that itmightbedoublyhardforhim,broughtupashehadbeen to

beapriest.

‘What do you suggest wedo,Eleonore?’

Hersmilewasradiant.

‘Firstyouwillsummonallyour vassals to court. Thereyou will tell them that youintend to wage war onToulouseforwhatbelongstothe Crown through yourmarriage shall be brought toit.Youwilltellthemthatyou

expect - nay demand - theirsupport. It is your due andtheir duty.Are they not yourvassals?’

‘Eleonore, I confess thethought of going to wardisturbsme.’

‘That is a feeling youwillhavetoovercome,myKing.’

‘Of course I have youalwaysatmyside.’

She took his hand and

smileddazzlingly.

‘Always,’sheassuredhim,‘tohelpandcomfortyou.’

He certainly felt muchcomforted.

In the gardenswere gatheredaboutEleonoretheladiesandgentlemenofthecourt.Therewere young girls whosefamilieshadsent them to theQueen to be schooled in all

the graces andaccomplishments they couldfind nowhere else. Eleonoredelighted in these youngpeople. Her love of powerwas, even in this small way,satisfied.Theseyoungpeopleregardedher as their teacher.Under her guidance theymade theirgowns; theysang,they composed music andsongs; and they learned toplay chess. Eleonore couldnotbeartheilliteratenearher.

Sheherselfhadbeentaughttoread and write and shebelievedittobeanimportantpartofeverygirl’s education-aswellas thatofboys.Shewas determined that thereshould be no discriminationagainsther sex.Neverwouldsheforgetthatshecouldhavebeen diverted from a verybrilliant future merelybecauseshewasfemale.

These hours when she

ruledoverherownlittlecourtwere her relaxation. Anyonewho composed a poem or asongwould submit it for herapproval; she would thenhave it readaloudor sungasthecasemightbe,anddeliverjudgement.

She was determined touphold chivalry and thismeant the adoration of thefemale. A man must beprepared to woo the lady of

his choice; he must begrateful for her smiles; hemust be prepared to wait forthe fulfilment of love. Hemustfightforhisladyanddiefor her if need be. This wastheessenceofromanticlove.

Eleonore was sensuous intheextremebuthersensualitywastingedwithromance.Shewas as deeply aware of thevirile men of her little courtastheywereofher.Oftenshe

allowed herself to imaginetaking them as lovers. Thatwould have given herimmense satisfaction. Howsad that a queen could notindulge in such romanticattachments. The duty of aqueenwastoprovidetheheirto the throne and even she -law unto herself that shemight be - was aware thattheremust be no doubt as tothe paternity of the heir ofFrance.

There was one man whoattracted her very much andthis was Louis’s cousinRaoul, the Count ofVermandois. He was notexactly young; but he had apowerful personality and areputation for his conquestsnotonlyinwarbutinlove.

Often he would sit atEleonore’s feet and woo herwith his eyes, his gesturesand the longing in his voice.

There was no doubt thatRaoul was inviting her tothrow aside her scruples. Hedid not actually say so; hewaswiseenoughtoknowthatin Eleonore’s courts of lovethere must be no crudity.Hintswere farmore excitingthan bald words; and he hadmade his feelings clearthroughthose.

Eleonorelikedhimtositather feet while his eyes

glittered with passion. Sheliked to imagine herselfindulging in love-makingwith such a partner; howdifferent he would be fromLouis! Poor Louis! He wasnotan imaginative lover; shemust always be the leadingspirit.All verywell at times,but it would be amusing,intriguing and quite thrillingon some occasions to feelherselfmastered.

Alas, she must rememberthat she had to bear the heirofFrance.

Raoul continued to adoreher with his eyes; his low-pitched voice continued tolure her to indiscretion. Sheresisted. He was a littleimpatient. He enjoyedwooingtheQueenbuthewasbeginning to realise that hewould never do so withsuccess … not at least until

she was pregnant by Louisandcouldsafelytakealover.Such a matter could not ofcourse be mentioned in theromantic atmosphere ofEleonore’s court; though itwas in hismind and perhapshers,buthecouldnotbesureofthat.

PoorLouis,thoughtRaoul.Itmaybethatheisincapableofbegettingchildren.Perhapsonedayshewouldbewilling

to let him be supplanted forthat reason. Eleonore was ashrewd woman; she had fewscruples he was sure, or atleast if she had some nowthey would be eliminatedgiven the appropriatecircumstances.Buthewasanimpatient man. Although hecontinued to worship atEleonore’sfeethiseyesoftenstrayed and thus it was thatthey alighted on Petronelle,Eleonore’s young sister.

What an enchanting creatureshe was! thought Raoul.Almost as beautiful asEleonore herself, and he’dswear as desirous. The morehe thought of Petronelle themoreenchantedhewas.

Petronelle might beinexperienced but she wascertainly not withoutknowledge; she knew themeaningoftheardentglanceshe sent in her direction. As

she was not the Queen ofFrancesheneednotentertaina queen’s scruples; she wasvery young; she wasunmarried,possiblyavirgin-he, the connoisseur, believedthis might well be so,although it was a state fromwhichthegirlwaslongingtoescape. A little dangerous inview of her relationshipwiththe Queen, and the fact ofcourse that she had nohusband.Hewasaboldman;

he had been frustrated toolongbyPetronelle’ssister.Hewould see how far he couldgo.

He waylaid Petronelle inthealleywaysofthegarden.

‘What a delightfulsurprise,’hecriedashecametowardsher.

‘Is it such a surprise, mylord?’ asked Petronelle, herhead on one side, gaily

provocative.

‘WellIwilladmittoalittlestrategy.’

‘It isalwayswise toadmitthatwhichisalreadyknown.’

She had no doubt learnedherreparteefromhersister.

‘What joy to see youalone.’

‘Why? Do I appeardifferent alone than when in

thecompanyofothers?’

‘Yes.DoItoyou?’

‘NaturallyImustfeelsomealarm remembering yourreputation.’

‘Ah,reputation!Howcruelit can be! How false! Howunfair!’

‘Have people been unfairtoyou,mylord?’

‘Somuchwoulddependon

whattheysaidofme.’

‘Theysayyouhaveknownmanyconquests.’

‘I have committed myselfwith honour in battle, Ibelieve.’

‘Andinthebattleoflove?’

‘I do not regard love as abattle.’

‘Yet people talk ofconquests.’

‘Perhaps I myself am indangerofbeingconquered?’

‘By your lady wife nodoubt. And I believe mysister the Queen to have hadsomeeffectonyou.’

‘Sometimes it is not as itappears.’

‘Iunderstandyounot.’

Hetookastepnearertoherand grasped her hand.‘Sometimes one does not

look in the direction of thesun. It is too dazzling. Oneavertstheeyes.’

‘Areyoulookingatthesunnow,mylordCount?’

‘Rightinitsface.’

‘I trust you are blinded byit.’

‘Blinded to indiscretion.Made mad by it.’ He seizedhersuddenlyandkissedher.

Petronelle gave anexclamation of what shemeant to sound like dismay,and breaking away fromhimran through the alley to amore public place in thegardens.

Thiswasabeginning.

Count Theobald ofChampagnehadarrivedatthecourt of France. He was amanwhohadareputationfor

governing his province withwisdom; he was a goodsoldierandLouishadcountedon his help for carrying onthe campaign againstToulouse.

Eleonore was with theKing when he received theCount. She made a point ofbeing present at suchmeetings for she wanted theworld to know that Francehadaqueenaswellasaking.

‘Welcome to Paris,’ saidLouis.‘Itrustyouareingoodhealth.’

‘Neverbetter,Sire.’

‘And ingood fettle for thefight.’

‘Ifyouarereferringtothismatter of Toulouse, Sire, Icouldnotaidyouinthis.Idonot think it would have theblessingofGod.’

Eleonore was frowning.

‘Perhaps you will explain,’shesaidcoldly.

TheCountbowed.‘Indeed,Madame. I would not allymyself with it because Iwould consider it unjust totheCountofToulouse.’

‘Unjust to wrest from aman that to which he clingswhen he has no right to doso!’

‘Itwouldseem thathehas

the rights of ownership, mylady.’

‘Do you know thatToulouse came to mygrandfather throughmarriageandthathesetupSaint-Gillesas a custodian during hisabsenceonacrusade?’

‘If that were so I cannotunderstand why it was notreclaimederethis,mylady.’

‘Becausethematterhasnot

been resolved until now, butthatisnoreasonwhyitnevershouldbe.’

‘I see many reasons, mylady.’

‘You forget that you riskthe displeasure of your KingandQueen.’

The Count bowed andbeggedleavetoretire.

When he had goneEleonore burst out in fury:

‘The insolent dog!Howdarehetelluswhatourdutyis!’

‘He has a right to expressanopinion,’Louismildlytoldher.

‘Are you a king? Am I aqueen? Shall we be insultedinourowncastle? I tellyou,mylordCountofChampagnewillbesorryforthis.’

Louis tried to soothe her,but she would not be

placated.

Theobaldwent to his sister’sapartments.Shewas thewifeof Raoul, the Count ofVermandois, and he foundhermelancholy.

Theobald felt equally so.He had not liked the tone ofthe Queen’s voice when shehad expressed herdisappointment in his refusalto support the campaign

againstToulouse.

‘Well, Eleonore,’ he said,for his sister bore the samenameastheQueen,‘youlooka little sad. Is Raoulunfaithfulagain?’

His sister Eleonoreshruggedher shoulders. ‘It isnotanunusualoccurrence.’

‘I regret that marriage,’said theCount, ‘even thoughhe is Louis’s cousin.Who is

Raoul’slatestinamorata?’

‘I don’t know. I have nottriedtofindout.SometimesIthink it better to remain inignorance.’

‘He should not treat youso.’

‘Of course he should not,butthatdoesnotpreventhim.Iknowthatheisindulginginaloveaffairwhichgiveshimgreatpleasure.Itisconducted

in secrecy of course. Somewomanwho is deceiving herhusbandIdoubtnot,asRaoulisdeceivingme.’

‘Youwillneverchangehisnature,Eleonore.’

‘I fear not. He will chasewomenaslongashehaslegstocarryhim.’

‘I will have a word withhim.’

Sheshookherhead.‘Better

not. Perhaps it is the fate ofpeoplesuchaswearetohaveunfaithful husbands.SometimesIthinkitwouldbebetter if we were morehumblyborn.Thinkhowourfamilyisscattered.Childhoodseems so short and if one isthe youngest of a big familytheolderoneshavelefthomebeforeoneisawareofthem.IoftenthinkofStephen.’

‘Ah,theKingofEngland,’

saidTheobald. ‘Yes, thinkofhim often and pray for him.AsKingofEnglandheneedsyourprayers.’

‘I remember the rejoicingthere was within the familywhenhetookthecrown.’

‘Yes,’ mused Theobald.‘And the lamenting when itseemed that Matilda wouldsnatchitfromhim.’

‘I would we could see

moreofhim. It isonlywhenhe visits Normandy that Ihavethatopportunity.’

‘Poor Stephen, perhaps acrownisamixedblessing.’

‘You thought that,Theobald. You had morerighttothecrownofEnglandthan Stephen. You were theelder son of our mother andthe Conqueror was yourgrandfather just as much ashewasStephen’s.’

‘Stephenhadbeenbroughtup in England. There wasclearly a time when KingHenrythoughtofmakinghimhisheir.’

‘There would not havebeenthosedistressingwarsinEnglandifMatilda’shusbandhad not died and she hadremainedinGermany.’

‘Yet she was the King’sdaughterandmanywouldsaythe true heir. Stephen is our

brother and I would supporthim with all I have, butMatilda was in fact theKing’sdaughterandindirectline of succession. Onecannotgetawayfromthat.’

‘PoorStephen.Ihopeheishappy.What burdens he hastobear!’

‘He has a good wife. Nomancouldhaveabetter.’

‘Yet he is not faithful to

her.Areanymenfaithful?’

Theobaldpressedherhand.‘Do not take Raoul’sinfidelity too much to heart.That is his way. Stephen’squeen must perforce acceptthis.Trytoforgetit.’

‘It is something which isalways with me, Theobald,butIlikenotthatyoushouldhavedispleasedtheQueen.’

‘TheKingtoo,Ifear.’

‘Oh, it is the Queen whocounts. She rules the court;she wishes to enlarge thekingdom of France that shemay becomemore and morepowerful. I think she mightbearevengefulwoman.’

‘I shall know how toprotect myself and my landsEleonore.TheKing is youngandinexperienced.Itisapitythey married him to such aforcefulwoman.Abbe Suger

is a wiseman and Louis theFatlefthissoningoodhands… apart from those of hiswife. But who would haveexpectedagirlinherteenstotake so much interest inaffairs.’

‘The Queen is a womanwhointendstorule.ShallyougobacktoChampagnenow?’

‘Yes. I felt I must comeand put my case before theKing. It isalwayswisewhen

one disagrees to state one’sreasonsinperson.’

‘Then I will wish youfarewell, brother. It has donemegoodtoseeyou.IwouldIcouldseeStephen.’

‘Donotwishthat.Itwouldmean trouble doubtless inNormandyifhewerehere.’

‘There is constant troubleinNormandy.’

‘And will be for years to

come,Ifear.Anjouisquietatthe moment, but his son isgrowing up. They say youngHenry Plantagenet is quite awarrior already and that hewillnotonlywantNormandy,butEnglandaswell.’

‘More wars … moretroubles!’

‘Somust it be when thereare too many claimants to athrone. Look at this troublenow … with Toulouse. But

never fear, Eleonore. TheKing, I am convinced, haslittle stomach for war.Doubtless this affair ofToulousewillblowover.Idonot think I shall be the onlyone who does not wish tofollowhimtowar.’

Thebrotherandsistertookfarewellofeachother.

The Queen watched theCountofChampagnerideoffattheheadofhiscavalcade.

‘Cursehim,’saidEleonore.‘How dare he flout theQueen. He shall suffer forthis.’

Darkness had fallen over thecastle. Petronelle wrapped acloak round her and slippedoutintothefreshnightair.

No one would recogniseher if they saw her. Theywould think she was somelady of the house bent on an

assignation, which would bethe truth, but they wouldnever suspect she was theQueen’syoungsister.

Petronelle knew she wasbeingboldandwayward;shewas inviting dishonour. Butwhat could she do? WhenRaoul embraced her she wasweak and yielding; she hadalready half promised anddrawnback.Shehadcried:‘IcannotandIdarenot.’

Andhehad tenderlybittenherearandwhisperedintoit:‘Butyoucanandyoudare.’

She had known that therewould be eventual surrender.Was that not what the songswereabout?Theywereaboutwooing and romance andknights who died for theirladies, but it was so muchmore inviting to love than todie. Death was horrible withitsbloodandpain.Lovewas

beautiful; there was desireand passion and the intensesatisfaction of fulfilmentwhich she had yet toexperience.

And shewould experiencethatbefore long.Theywouldmarryhersoon.Supposetheymarriedhertosomeimpotentoldmanjustbecauseitwouldbe good for State reasons.TheyhadmarriedEleonoretoLouis. True hewas theKing

but he was not really veryattractive. He was what theycalled a laggard in all thatmattered. Eleonore had asmuch as said so. If theymarried her to someone shedidnotfancyshewouldhavelovers. She would selectsomeonelikeRaoul…

Raoul! She was going tomeet him now, and this timethere would be no holdingback. He would not allow

that.Hehadsaidhalfangrilylast time: ‘I have waited toolong.’Andshehadthrilledtothatangrynoteinhisvoice.

This time there would benoholdingback.

He was waiting for her intheshrubbery.

His arms were round her,holdingherfirmly.

‘Raoul,Idarenot

‘Iknowtheplace.Come.’

‘Imustgoback.’

Buthewaslaughingather.

Shesaid:‘Mysisterwillbefurious. Do you not care fortheQueen’sanger?’

‘TonightIcarefornothingbutthis,’heanswered.

Shepretended topullbackbut she knew and he knewthatitwasmerepretence.

Theyfoundasecludedpartoftheshrubbery.

‘Others may come here,’sheprotested.

‘Nay, we shall beundisturbed.’

‘Imustgoback.’

‘Youmuststayhere.’

Hewas drawing her downtotheearth.

She said: ‘I have no help

buttosubmit.’

Eleonore was quickly awareofthechangeinhersisterandguessedthecause.

She summoned her to herbedchamber,andmakingsurethattheywerealoneshesaid,‘Youhadbettertellme.’

Petronelleopenedher eyesvery wide, assuminginnocence.

Eleonore took her by theshouldersandshookher.‘Donot feign innocencewithme,mychild.Whoistheman?’

‘Eleonore,I…’

‘And I know,’ saidEleonore. ‘You could nothideitfromme.Itisclear.Ifyoushoutedfromtheturret,Ihave a lover, you could notsayitmoreclearly.’

‘Idon’tseewhy…’

‘No, you are a child. Youare also foolish. You shouldhavewaitedformarriage.’

‘Asyoudid…’

‘AsIdid.YouknowIwasa virgin when I marriedLouis.ItwasnecessarythatIshouldbe.Nowweshallhaveto find a husband for you.Who is your lover? Perhapswe can marry you to himwithoutdelay.IwillspeaktotheKing.’

Petronelle stammered:‘That’simpossible.’

‘Whyso?’

‘He … he is marriedalready.’

‘Youlittlefool!’

‘I couldn’t help it,Eleonore.Ididn’tmeanto.Atfirst it was only a kind ofplay-acting … like singingthesongsand talkingof love…andthen…’

‘I know. You cannot tellme anything I don’t knowabout such matters. Youshould have consulted meabout it. You should havetold me that he was makingadvances.Whoishe?’

‘Raoul…’

‘The Count ofVermandois!’

Petronellenodded.

Eleonore felt a wave of

fury. Raoul who hadpretendedtoadmireher,whohad implied that only shecould satisfy him, that allother women were of nomoment to him! And all thetime he was making love tohersister!

‘Idon’tbelieveit.Why,heisold…’

‘He is tenyearsolder thanyouare.Thatisnotmuchinaman.’

‘And you submitted tohim.’

Petronelle held her headhigh. ‘I did and I don’t care.I’ddoitagain.Sowouldyouifyouweren’tmarried to theKing.’

Eleonore shook her sisterangrily.‘Don’tforgetyouaretalking to the Queen. I ammindful of my duty. Youhavebehaved likea slutof aserving-girl.’

‘Then many ladies of thecourt do the same. They sitwith you and talk in a high-minded way about love, andthen by night they are withtheirlovers.Poetryandsongsare no substitute for love-making,andyouknowit.’

‘Soyouwould instructus!But let us not waste time inrecriminations.Youcouldnotwait for marriage. That iswhatwemustconsider.’

‘I love Raoul,’ saidPetronellefirmly.

‘And he loves you, Isupposeyou’lltellme.’

‘Ohyes,ohyes.’

‘But not enough to saveyoufromhislust.’

‘It was love,’ saidPetronnelleecstatically.

‘And he knew to whatdisaster he