The Agincourt Bride (41 page)

Gasping for breath, I gave my name to the new set of guards. ‘Please let us through,’ I panted, ‘The Seigneur du Chastel is expecting us.’

‘Do not let them pass!’ shouted de Mussy over the thunder of boots on the wooden floor as he and his henchmen pounded towards us. ‘I arrest them all on the authority of the Duke of Burgundy.’

The name of Burgundy inspired doubtful glances between the two guards. ‘Do not listen to him,’ I urged desperately, unable to bear the thought of failing so close to our goal. ‘Call the Seigneur du Chastel! He will vouch for us.’

Suddenly I felt my arm caught in a fierce grip. In his ferocious expression there was no sign of the charming gallant as Guy de Mussy swung me round so that my face was directly under the leaping light cast by a flambeau on the wall. ‘Madame Lanière! I have you!’ I could see triumph in his face as he barked at the guards with great authority, ‘You can leave this to me. The dauphin will not wish to be disturbed, especially by a mad servant and her two snotty children.’

I tried to wrestle my arm free but he was too strong for me. ‘We are bidden to meet the Seigneur du Chastel,’ I blurted to the confused guard, trying to summon what I hoped was a reasonable and sane tone of voice. ‘He will be wondering where we are.’

The guard’s eyes rolled wildly with indecision and Guy’s creepily disarming smile made its inevitable appearance. ‘I’m sure the seigneur has far more important things to worry about,’ he said firmly, his grip on my arm vicious as an eagle’s claws. ‘And I have no time to waste.’

I planted my feet stubbornly against him, but he was strong and easily pulled me off balance so that I stumbled as he dragged me away, beckoning to his two henchmen, who had unceremoniously collared my children. But they had reckoned without Luc who, craftily employing a sharp elbow in a vulnerable part of his would-be abductor’s anatomy, managed to wriggle out of his shock-slackened grasp, dive under the crossed pikes of the guards and hammer loudly on the timbers of the door.

‘Seigneur! Seigneur du Chastel!’ he yelled at the top of his voice. ‘Call the seigneur!’

Soon there was a blade at his throat and he was hauled backwards, but his shouts had been heard and the door was thrown open to reveal the imposing figure of Tanneguy du Chastel. The guards sprang to attention, raising their pikes.

Still struggling in de Mussy’s grip, I cried, ‘Seigneur du Chastel, God be thanked! I am here as you requested. Princess Catherine’s nurse.’

Tanneguy peered at me, an expression of bewildered enquiry on his long, lean face. Around the shoulders of his neat black gown he wore a heavy gold collar and looked grander and more dignified than I remembered him, but his fingers still bore ink-stains.

‘Madame Lanière? Ah, yes, I see that it is you.’ His gaze swung to Guy de Mussy and closed in a stern frown. ‘Remove your hand, sir. This lady is here at my invitation. It is your presence that is not required.’ He snapped his fingers at the guards. ‘Escort these men from the keep,’ he ordered, indicating the three Burgundians. ‘And hold their weapons until they are off the premises. Only royal guards may bear arms in the royal apartments.’

As the sentries moved to obey, Guy de Mussy released me and drew himself up, returning his short sword to its sheath and keeping his hand defensively on the hilt. ‘That will not be necessary, my lord. We are leaving. I will personally report this incident to his grace of Burgundy.’

Tanneguy smiled icily. ‘I do not doubt it, sir.’ He stood back and gestured me to enter the apartment. ‘Come in, Madame, and bring your young companions.’

We hastily stumbled past the guards into a wide panelled passage containing only a few carved benches and a series of imposing doors set in deep stone arches. As Tanneguy firmly closed the door behind us, I stuttered my thanks, rubbing my bruised arm, and explained that my companions were my children. But before he had time to respond, a liveried page came through one of the doors. The noise of our altercation had evidently penetrated even these thick walls in the very oldest part of Corbeil castle, which had for centuries offered stout protection to the kings and queens of France as they journeyed from Paris to the eastern parts of their kingdom.

‘His royal highness was alarmed by the noise, Monseigneur,’ said the page. ‘He sent me to investigate.’

Tanneguy shrugged. ‘If the dauphin is awake, perhaps he would favour us with his presence,’ he told the page. ‘There are some visitors I think he should see.’

‘I will give him your message, Monseigneur,’ nodded the lad and hurried back through the door.

‘I have not yet shown the dauphin your letter,’ Tanneguy murmured to me swiftly. ‘It contains news that will be hard for him to bear – I can quite see why the duke wanted to prevent your seeing the dauphin. How is the Princess Catherine?’

‘Better, I think, since she managed to get herself sent back to Poissy Abbey, Monseigneur. She should be safe there,’ I told him. Moving out of my children’s earshot, I added, ‘My children do not know what is in the letter. It is safer that way.’

‘I understand,’ nodded Tanneguy. ‘I met your son earlier, but I thought you had a daughter in the princess’ service.’

’Yes, sir, my son Luc. The smaller one is Alys …’ I looked across at Alys in her frayed jacket and russet hood and explained somewhat uncomfortably, ‘I thought it prudent for her to travel as a boy, but she was a seamstress for the princess.’

Tanneguy gazed benignly at me. ‘You are a resourceful woman, Madame Lanière – but I always knew that.’

A light, reedy voice broke in. ‘In the name of God, what is happening, Maître Tanneguy?’

The voice had a lower pitch than when I had last heard it, but the distinctive impediment and peevish tone of Prince Charles were instantly familiar to me. I turned and dropped to my knee, motioning Alys and Luc to follow suit. The dauphin stood outside the door of his chamber, swamped by a magnificent fur-trimmed chamber-robe of crimson silk figured with dolphins. He had grown taller, but was still undeniably a puny youth.

‘Why do these strange people dare to look at me? Tell them not to do so.’

In my consternation I had forgotten the correct protocol. I immediately lowered my eyes from the prince’s face, hoping the children would do the same.

‘This is your old nursemaid, Madame Lanière, your highness,’ said Tanneguy bracingly. I noticed that he had done no more than dip his knee briefly to the dauphin. ‘Princess Catherine’s woman of the bedchamber – and these are her children.’

‘Why are they here?’ asked Charles, his lip curling fastidiously. ‘It is late at night.’

‘We have brought news of your sister, the princess royal, your grace,’ I told him boldly, attempting to seize some of the initiative. A prince he may be, and I owed him due deference, but the fact remained that I had blown his nose and wiped his bottom and I considered that gave me some right to be treated with respect. ‘It was urgent and we had to run from the Duke of Burgundy’s men who wanted to arrest us.’

‘I do not understand. Why would Burgundy want to arrest my sister’s servant?’ Charles was still ignoring me, directing his questions at Tanneguy, so I let him answer.

‘Because of what she knows,’ the seigneur answered, pulling my letter from the sleeve of his robe. ‘She wrote me a letter. I think you should read it, my lord.’

‘Why do you not read it to me?’ demanded the prince irritably, moving to sit down in the only chair available, which happened to be positioned with its back to us.

‘I think you will see why when you read it,’ Tanneguy said pointedly, offering the letter to Charles. ‘The contents are private and must remain so.’

‘Let me see it then!’ The dauphin snatched the letter and unfolded it impatiently. There was a heavy silence as he scanned its contents. Behind his back Tanneguy and I exchanged doubtful glances and then I sprang to one side in alarm as the dauphin’s chair came crashing over, propelled by his violent push as he rose and turned furiously to confront me. The letter shook in his hand.

‘By God’s Holy Bones, if this is true …! But how do I know it is true? We have only
your
word for it.’ The word of a mere servant was the clear implication.

In Charles’ sudden rage I had seen a flash of his brother Louis and I knew how to handle it. In times of stress, both princes found comfort in the things they had never had as children. Food had always calmed Louis, but with Charles it was flattery.

‘Your grace, how would I, a humble servant of the king, dare to lie to the Heir of France?’ I said, clasping my hands together and moving on my knees towards him, eyes carefully avoiding his angry gaze. ‘When you come into your kingdom, I beg you to bring me before the holy relics of St Louis and I will swear on the crown of thorns, stained with the blood of Christ, that I have written the truth.’

Charles remained still for a moment, considering the weight of my words, then he turned away to wave the letter under Tanneguy’s nose. ‘This is treason, Maître Tanneguy. Treason and treachery! What are we to do about it?’ I was disappointed, but not surprised, that the dauphin seemed more concerned with Burgundy’s crime against the crown than with his sister’s terror and distress.

Calmly, du Chastel took the letter from him, folded it and tucked it away in his sleeve. ‘Let us consider that question tomorrow, highness. Right now, I think we should reward Madame Lanière for her bravery and loyalty in bringing this matter to our notice. Nor should we forget that it was she who warned us to leave the Hôtel de St Pol before the murderous butchers came to do Burgundy’s dirty work.’

Charles grimaced at his secretary, but Tanneguy nodded insistently and the dauphin shrugged. ‘Very well, if you think so, Monseigneur. What do you suggest?’

‘Madame Lanière has made her wishes clear in the letter. She would like her son to be appointed to your household. I see no reason why that cannot be done immediately,’ replied Tanneguy. ‘The boy is here. He can swear his allegiance and I will arrange the rest.’

Prince Charles screwed up his face, remembering. ‘Oh yes, the hound boy.’ He turned abruptly on Luc. ‘What happened to my white deer hounds, boy?’

I saw tears spring involuntarily to Luc’s eyes as he recoiled in trepidation. ‘Th-they were killed by Burgundy’s thugs, highness. I b-buried them in the orchard.’

‘They killed my dogs, but they did not kill you! Did you run away, boy? Did you abandon them?’

The dauphin was no taller than Luc, but he was on his feet. I could see that Luc was cowed and frightened, and I could not stop myself interjecting, ‘No, your highness, he did not. He was not there. You left them in my care, remember? But I could not hold them and they got away.’ I choked on the last words as my mind flashed back to that horrific night and the appalling violence of the butchers.

‘You may look at me,’ declared Charles suddenly, scanning our faces as we raised them to his curious speckled gaze, so different from Catherine’s vivid blue. ‘You both have tears in your eyes. Why?’

‘I think, highness, that you are frightening the boy,’ suggested Tanneguy. ‘Everyone is upset by the memories of that terrible night.’

‘I am not,’ said Charles flatly. ‘It was the beginning of my freedom. But I did regret having to leave my faithful hounds.’ He held his hand out to Luc, a big jewelled ring prominent on his first finger. ‘If you buried them, you must have cared for them. You may kiss my hand and swear to serve me loyally and faithfully.’

Luc grabbed the hand and planted his lips on the ring. ‘I swear,’ he said hoarsely.

‘Very well.’ The dauphin withdrew his hand and moved it towards me. ‘And you? Will you serve me too, Mette?’

It was the first time he had used my name and I softened towards him. He was not easy to love but if he remained sane, perhaps he might make a better king than his father. I let my lips brush the ring lightly. ‘I am a loyal servant of the king, your highness, and serve you as his son and heir. But my first duty will always be to your sister, Princess Catherine.’

‘Why are you not with her now then?’

His question took me by surprise although, on reflection, I should have expected it. I could not tell him the real reason why we were apart, but I gave him a version of the truth. ‘The princess is in retreat at Poissy abbey. My daughter and I are travelling to Troyes to wait for her.’

‘Poissy will be good for her; she has much to pray for,’ he remarked, moving restlessly to and fro before us. ‘But you think she would not approve of the reconciliation treaty?’

‘I know she would not,’ I replied firmly. ‘But not for the reason you might think from the letter. She has only your interests at heart, highness, and those of the king. You said a moment ago that escaping Burgundy was the beginning of your freedom. She, of all people, would not want that freedom to end.’

Charles studied me for several seconds before signalling me to rise. ‘You are right. Catherine understands. Thank you for reminding me. I believe you are to my sister what Maître Tanneguy is to me,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘He did not want me to sign the reconciliation, but I was persuaded.’ He turned to Luc. ‘What is your name, boy?’

‘It is Luc, highness.’

‘Well, Luc, serve me as well as your mother serves my sister and I will be well content.’

‘I will, my lord,’ said my son fervently.

‘Good. See that he gets some livery, Maître Tanneguy.’ The dauphin put his hands to his eyes and rubbed them. ‘Now I will return to bed. Come to me at first light.’

‘I will, highness.’ I saw a smile flicker briefly over Tanneguy’s lips before he opened the bedchamber door and bowed his young master through. ‘God give you good rest.’

I gathered my two children into my arms. It had been a tense and frightening evening and I was proud of the way they had handled it.

Tanneguy approached us, pulling my letter from the sleeve of his robe. ‘We should burn this,’ he said solemnly, unfolding it and holding the paper to the flame of a nearby candle. We watched it flare and dissolve to ashes. He smiled grimly at me. ‘God be praised, the reconciliation is over. Now, Madame,’ he continued, ‘we must find you all somewhere to sleep. Tomorrow we will put young Luc to work and arrange for you and your daughter to travel safely to Troyes.’