The Courts of Love: The Story of Eleanor of Aquitaine (22 page)

We were passing through the territory of the Count of Blois when we saw a party of horsemen approaching, led by a very good-looking young man. He leaped from his horse and almost prostrated himself before me.

“This is the greatest good fortune, my lady,” he said. “I heard that you might be passing through my land and I prayed that I might discover you and your friends before you left. My castle of Blois is close by. The afternoon is drawing on. I shall deem it the greatest honor if you will rest under my roof.”

This was charming and I bade him rise. I thanked him for his offer and said we would be delighted to accept it. He was soon riding beside me, and his excited glances were an obvious indication of his admiration. I was accustomed to this of course and not greatly surprised to receive it; but I was no innocent, and it occurred to me that the young man might have some ulterior motive.

“I knew your father,” I said.

Memories came back, for this young man was the son of Thibault who had caused so much trouble at the time of Petronilla’s marriage to Raoul of Vermandois.

We talked a little of the past and he told me he thought I should have more protection. I should have a bodyguard. “Such an illustrious lady,” he said, “should not ride with so few to care for her.”

“I am guarded enough,” I assured him. “I am near my own home, and one feels safe among one’s own people.”

He shook his head. “I am glad I came upon you, for it gives me this chance to be your protector.”

I smiled and replied that I had always believed I was a woman who could look after herself.

“In so many ways, yes, but a strong arm and a loyal heart are good to have beside even the bravest of us.”

By the time we reached the castle I realized that he was aware of the divorce, and I imagined there would be one thought in his avaricious mind: Aquitaine. This was a lesson to be learned. There would be suitors—not so much for me but for Aquitaine. I must not forget that once more I was the richest heiress in France. I had emerged from my marriage with my lands intact. His talk of protection made me pensive. I thought of all the women who had been carried off by certain bold men. Dangerosa had gone willingly, others might not have done so.

What was in the mind of this young man? Would he take me to his castle? Would he attempt to seduce me? That I fully expected, but he was going to be disappointed there. But what if he held me prisoner? What if he forced me? Was that possible? I should be in his castle, surrounded by his minions. He would have an advantage over me, for in his own terrain he would have the means of keeping me captive.

I was not exactly alarmed but alerted.

At the castle a great welcome was given us. It was an interesting place and had been in the possession of the Counts of Champagne since the year 924. I had heard songs in my grandfather’s Court about it. The first Thibault had been a fierce baron who had ravaged the countryside, taking all he wanted, including the women, and the whole neighborhood went in fear of him. He was known as “the Black Midnight Huntsman.” The present Count seemed mild in comparison but even with him I must tread warily.

The emblem of the place was a wolf. I thought it apt in view of the reputation of the first Count. The name “Blois,” I learned, comes from “Bleiz” which means Wolf in the Carnute and Celtic languages. I had wondered why the first Count had adopted the name and called his castle after that most rapacious of animals, and whether the present Count was trying to follow in his ancestor’s footsteps.

As he led me into the great building, his words sounded ominous. “I shall do everything I can to make your stay here a long one.”

And I thought: I shall do everything I can to make it brief.

I said to him: “You are indeed kind, Count, but I am in great haste to reach my city of Poitiers, and I shall be able to take advantage of your wonderful hospitality for only one night.”

He smiled wistfully but there was a gleam of something I did not quite like in his eyes.

He ordered that the finest bedchamber in the castle be prepared for me and he set them in the kitchen making a meal worthy of me.

So far so good. It was what was to be expected for the Queen of France.

One of the saddlebags containing what we should need for the night was unpacked, and I changed from my riding habit into a velvet gown, and wore my long hair loose about my shoulders. I was rather pleased with the result, for although I was determined to teach the Count a lesson, that did not mean I wanted to diminish my allure in any way.

I quite enjoyed the evening. I was seated at the table in the place of honor. My women, watchful, aware of the situation, were entertained graciously by the knights of the castle. Young Thibault gave all his attention to me. I was gracious to him and accepted his compliments with assumed pleasure. I allowed him to serve me with the food, which was excellent. The minstrels were pleasant, and I really felt I was close to Aquitaine and the old days.

He told me that my visit was the greatest honor which had befallen his castle.

“Oh come,” I said, “you exaggerate.”

“Never,” he declared passionately. “This is the happiest night of my life.”

He was drinking a great deal of wine and pressing me to do the same. It was something I never did, and I was certainly not going to on this occasion for as the night began to pass I grew more and more suspicious.

I told him how I admired his castle and how interesting it must be to remember his ancestors who had lived in it for so many years, especially the founder of the family, the Black Midnight Hunter.

“Oh, he was bold,” he said. “He took what he wanted.”

“There are some like him today. I wonder if you are one, my lord.”

A sly glint in the eyes! Oh, yes, he had plans. And he thought he was getting on very well with me. I let him believe it, the arrogant young fellow. I compared him with my Henry. Surely he could not believe that I would consider him as a husband! His eyes were greedy         .         .         .         thinking of me in his eager hands         .         .         .         and Aquitaine to follow.

He said he would gladly lay his castle and its contents at my feet.

“You hold Blois lightly, my lord,” I told him.

“Nay, I treasure it beyond my other castles. It is why I would lay it at your feet. Only the very best would be good enough for you.”

“You should be grateful that I do not accept your offer.”

“Ah         .         .         .         if you would         .         .         .         I should be the happiest man on Earth.”

He is growing a little muzzy from the wine, I thought. He is going too fast. I decided to let him trip himself up.

“Well, Count, have you anything else to offer?”

“This hand,” he said. “This heart.”

I laughed. “That sounds like a proposal of marriage.”

Yes, indeed he was far gone. I saw the light in his eyes. He actually believed that I liked him. His arrogance angered me.

“I have never seen a woman as beautiful as you are, my Queen,” he said.

“I am Queen no longer. You know that, do you not?”

“I know it and rejoice in it         .         .         .         for myself, and condole with poor Louis.”

“That is charmingly said. I am also ruler of Aquitaine. You had not forgotten that, had you?”

“I can think of nothing but your beauty.”

“But Aquitaine is beautiful, too. Surely you will agree with that?”

“I daresay it is. But I had not thought of it.”

“Oh, had you not? It is not very clever of you to forget Aquitaine.”

“What I mean is that I am so deep in love with you that it would not matter to me if you were the lowest serving maid and not a great lady.”

“Then you are a man without discernment. One who does not see the advantages will not get very far in life, I fear.”

“You are laughing at me.”

“Forgive me. I thought you were laughing at me. Laughter is good for us. Let us enjoy it.”

“If I could realize my dearest dream and marry you, I should be the happiest man on Earth. I beg of you be kind to me. Tell me you will consider this. There is nothing I would not do for you. Please, please think of it.”

I did think: This has gone too far and is quite absurd. The man must think I’m a fool, and I could not forgive anyone for thinking that.

I said coolly: “Let us have done with this farce, shall we? Of course I will not marry you.”

He looked quite taken aback. Oh yes, he was very drunk but there was a certain shrewdness in his eyes.

“I will never give up hope,” he said.

“Hope sometimes comforts even when the goal is quite out of reach. And now, if you will indulge us, I should like to hear your minstrels once more before I and my ladies retire for the night.”

His tongue ran around his lips at my mention of retiring. Indeed he had plans and I must countermand them. He called for the musicians and I watched him as he listened to the songs of love. When it was over, I rose, my women with me.

“And now, my lord, I shall say good night to you.”

“I shall conduct you to your bedchamber.”

I bowed my head and we went, my ladies and I, the Count leading the way.

And there was my chamber with the ornate bed, the sight of which made his eyes glisten.

I turned to him. “My thanks to you, Count. Your hospitality has been all that I could have expected.”

He put his face close to mine. “If you should need anything         .         .         .”

“I will remember,” I told him.

He went reluctantly and I immediately called my women to me.

I said: “I do not trust the Count. He will attempt to come to this room tonight. Four of you will sleep here—and where is my esquire?”

They brought him to me—a fresh-faced young man, earnest and eager to excel, the sort who would be immune from bribes and therefore completely trustworthy.

“I am relying on you,” I said. “You see me here, not exactly alone but with a small company compared with that which the Count could muster. I believe he wishes me ill and I would be prepared. Lie outside my door, across the threshold, all through the night. Let no one pass. If anyone should come, shout and draw your sword, threaten to slay him, no matter who he is. Tell him my orders are that you shall let no one pass. No one is to enter my room without my permission. Shout. Make a noise. Wake the whole castle.”

“I will defend you with my life, my lady.”

And I knew he would. How right I was. It must have been just after midnight when we heard the commotion outside the door.

My young esquire was declaring: “On the Queen’s orders no one passes this threshold.”

Then came the Count’s blustering voice. “You young fool, do you realize that this is my castle, my room? Everyone under this roof is either my servant or my guest.”

“My orders are, my lord, that no one passes.”

The Count must have realized that he was awakening the household. He was just sober enough to see that his best plan was to return to his own apartment. The silly young fool, if he wanted to make such plans, he should give them more consideration and above all keep a cool head. He should have studied my grandfather’s methods.

I was temporarily safe but I must not stay another night in his castle. Perhaps even during this night the Count might sober up and the first thing such a bombastic young man would want to do would be to justify himself in my eyes and his own. He had means at his disposal; here in his castle he could easily subdue my little band. I must act promptly.

As soon as he had gone, I sent the esquire down to the stables to tell them they must make preparations to leave as soon and as quietly as possible. My ladies and I would make ready and join them in half an hour. We were in acute danger.

So, during that night, quietly we left Blois.

I often wondered what young Thibault thought when he awoke to find we had gone and that all his grand schemes for capturing Aquitaine had come to nothing. It would be a lesson to him—as it was to me.

The sooner I was married to Henry, the better; only then would I be safe from ambitious men.

We made our way out of Champagne to Anjou.

Anjou must be friendly territory. I surveyed it with pleasure. Anjou, Normandy         .         .         .         they were Henry’s, and soon Aquitaine would be with them, and, in time, I was certain England. What a brilliant prospect! I was not only going to marry the man I loved but acquire great possessions as well. We were completely suited to each other in every way. What a happy conclusion this would be to all my tribulations.

We were riding along merrily when in the distance I saw a figure—a lonely one this time.

“It seems,” I said, “that we have little to fear from one rider. I wonder who it is and why he rides with such urgency. I believe he is looking for us.”

This proved to be the case. The young man pulled up his sweating horse, leaped to his feet and knelt before me.

“My lady,” he stammered, “I come to warn you. You are riding into danger.”

“From whom this time?” I asked.

“From one who calls himself my master—Geoffrey Plantagenet.”

I cried: “The brother of the Duke of Normandy!”

He nodded. “There is an ambush a mile or so from here. Because of your friendship with my true master, I was determined to warn you.”

“Who is your true master?”

“The Duke of Normandy. I served him well and would do so again. He gave me over to the service of his brother and I have never been happy since.”

“I see. So Geoffrey Plantagenet would waylay us. For what purpose?”

“He plans to marry you, my lady.”

“Indeed? They say these Plantagenets are the spawn of the Devil.” I smiled. That applied to Henry, too. So his little brother Geoffrey thought to trap me, Geoffrey the ne’er-do-well, the brother whom Henry despised.

I looked at the young man. I had learned to judge people and I trusted him. The recent experience with Thibault had sobered me considerably. There would be other upstarts who thought they could abduct me, perhaps even rape me and force me to marry them, just to give them possession of my rich duchy. It was the well-worn way in the past for gaining coveted lands. But these little men had not the gift for it.