To Be Queen (16 page)

Beyond the altar lay a cathedral school like the one in which my husband had been raised, taught to read Latin and to think like a priest. My ladies waited for me in the darkness of the church, left to pray or light candles or make mischief as they willed, surrounded by my men-at-arms. Only Bardonne followed me into the inner sanctum.

Though women were not allowed inside, I ignored this stricture. The monks who guarded the door knew better than to stop me. They, too, seemed to know who I was, and respected my position, even if Suger did not. They bowed low to me, and for a moment I thought they might cross themselves in their fervor, as if I were the Virgin come down to earth. Pleased by this reverence from churchmen I had expected to despise me, I was smiling when I stepped into Abbot Suger's domain, looking for my errant husband.

The inner sanctum was bare, save for a few very fine pieces of sculpture, all carvings of the Virgin and Her Son. A rock crystal vase on a marble stand caught my eye. It looked like the vase my grandfather had brought back from Crusade, the one I had given Louis as a wedding present.

My eye was drawn from the crystal vase to Brother Francis, dressed from cowl to sandal in black. His robes were as dark as midnight, his eyes pinched and close together. His hair was shaved for his tonsure on the crown of his head. The rest of his fair blond hair straggled across his scalp, almost colorless. His skin was pale, as if he never saw the sun. Though he smiled, I saw the loathing behind his eyes. I wondered if it was me he hated, or all women.

Brother Francis was my husband's confessor, the priest who had come with Louis to Bordeaux to see him wed to me. He was one of the Count of Valois' faction at court, one of the men who did not favor my marriage to Louis. No doubt they favored claiming the Aquitaine, but they were furious that my lands were controlled ultimately not by Louis but by me.

I was surprised to find him in the abbot's rooms. Suger did not strike me as a man who would use the services of a double-tongued monk like Francis. But then, I supposed all men who strove for greatness had to dirty their hands by dealing with many people, no matter how unsavory.

Abbot Suger came in. His black cassock was as dark as Francis', and dirt lined the fabric over the knees. He had been out in the garden, seeing to the herbs that grew there. He was peasant born, whatever heights he had been raised to since.

As he stepped across the stone floor of his private chamber, extending his hand to me, I realized something that I had never before understood. Suger believed in God and Christ, in all His glory. But he believed in the Church first. It was the Church he sought to succor by disarming Adelaide, by blocking my power. By taking away any power the Dowager Queen of France might hold over the king, Suger sought to increase his own. In this man's mind, his power and the power of God were one and the same.

I felt a chill as Abbot Suger took my hand in his.

“Good day, Your Majesty. Welcome to this place.”

“Am I indeed welcome?” I kept my tone light, though my intent was clear in my eyes. “I sent word asking you to join me in the palace. I was given to understand that you were too busy to visit the Queen of France.”

Color rose in his pale face and he bowed to me. “Your Majesty, forgive me. This message only lately came to me. My people were remiss. I hope you will accept my deepest apologies.”

Abbot Suger called for fruit and wine, for bread and cheese. He seated me himself in the best chair in the room, offering me a cushion for my back.

I accepted all this as my due, watching him all the while for signs of mockery. I saw none. Brother Francis watched the abbot welcome me, his pale face darkening with ire.

The food brought was fresh, the figs succulent, the bread soft. I ate a little to show my appreciation for the abbot's largesse.

I saw Louis then, standing silent by the door to the cloister garden. His green silk gown was marked with streaks of black soil. He, too, had been pruning the herbs.

I stood at once, and curtsied. I knew what was due a king of France, even if my husband did not.

“My lord king,” I said. “I am glad to see you here. There is a matter of business between us, touching on your mother, that I hope you can put right.”

Louis came away from the doorway where he had been loitering like a recalcitrant schoolboy. He stood next to his mentor, and a little behind him, as if he feared to speak to me.

“What business have we, Eleanor, concerning my lady mother?”

“The business of her dower lands, my lord king. Her lands were offered to me by mistake. But they are set aside for the dowager queen, so that she may live off their income after the king's death.”

“I know what dower lands are, Eleanor.” Louis spoke sullenly, the first time he had ever done so to me.

I was surprised, taken so aback that I did not at once reply.

The Abbot Suger spoke for both of us. “My lady queen, there has been a misunderstanding once again. The Queen Adelaide goes to Montmorency to marry in two weeks' time. She has no need of the dower lands, so His Majesty, out of his largesse, has gifted them to you.”

I saw at once that Louis believed this tale. His face was set in stubborn lines, the closest I had ever seen him to anger. He deeply resented his mother's coming marriage.

I simply said, “I would give them back to her, my lord king, if you will permit me.”

Louis' face softened at my tone. He had never yet heard me ask for anything without at once granting my request. But Suger stood between us, and Louis looked to his mentor. The churchman did not hesitate to speak for the king.

“My lady queen, this is not possible. The papers have been signed, the thing is done. But your kindness to your mother-in-law does you credit. You have a soft heart. Anyone can see that.”

I understood then that this man would stand in my way if I let him. I must pry Louis from his grasp, as one sometimes had to pry the kill from the talons of a badly trained hawk.

I would give Adelaide income from my own property. The battle for her dower lands was lost, but it had taught me much. I knew now beyond any doubt who my rival was for power behind the throne of France.

“Thank you, my lord abbot. My lord king. I worried for Queen Adelaide, but you have set my mind at rest.”

I stood, fluttering my hands a little in my long sleeves, looking to Louis as if I needed his strength to lean on. He moved to my side at once, like a hound come to heel. His sullenness had fled, replaced by a look of worshipful devotion. It seemed he would swing back and forth between these extremes, devotion to me and devotion to the Church. I would have to see to it that he let his Church leanings go, and placed all his confidence, all his love, in me.

“Your concern does you credit, Your Majesty,” Suger said as he bowed low to us.

“Thank you, my lord abbot. I will not forget your kindness.”

Suger smiled, for he did not understand me. Louis beamed, elated that Suger and I suddenly seemed to get on so well. It was Francis, the pale monk with the midnight robes, who stared at me with venom, who understood exactly what I had said. I would forget nothing Suger had done. I would watch him closely, and make certain that he would not thwart me again.

As we passed from those rooms, I looked close at the rock crystal vase. I stopped by its marble stand, my hand on the king's arm. The vase was indeed the wedding present I had given Louis, a prized possession that had been in my family for generations. My grandfather had brought it back from the Levant, as he had my mirror of gold-trimmed bronze.

A bit of gold had been added to the base of the rock crystal, as well as a bit of additional gold to the top. Suger had carved an inscription onto the golden base stating that I had given the vase to Louis, who gave it to Suger, who in turn gave it to the saints.

Louis saw the tears in the green of my gaze. He knew already that I was a woman who never wept. He turned pale.

“Eleanor,” he said.

I pressed his arm, and led him out. My ladies waited for us in the church, beyond the door of the abbot's private rooms. My men-at-arms and Louis' men surrounded us, and my women followed us home chattering, the afternoon in the cathedral a great adventure for them.

All I could see in my mind's eye was my wedding gift to Louis, so carefully chosen, so lovingly polished, passed not to our son but to the Church I despised. The saints would never see it, whatever Suger said. The Church would have it now. I could not get it back.

I was quiet all through dinner. Though he was still furious at his mother's coming marriage to Montmorency, when Louis found Adelaide in his rooms, he simply kissed her cheek. I saw that he was ashamed of giving away my wedding gift to him, and that with this gesture to his mother, who was now under my protection, he hoped to keep the peace. Louis said not a word, but stepped into my room with me.

My ladies left me alone with him, my soft shift covering my body in the firelight, my bronze hair brushed out, trailing down my back.

Louis was not a stupid man, though he often behaved like a fool. He had not meant to hurt me by giving away my grandfather's vase; all he valued, all he loved, he gave to the Church without thought. They had trained him to it.

He came to me and took my hand in his. His blue eyes were clear in the light of our one brazier. Louis kissed my hand, and held it between his own. He did not defend himself for giving away the heirloom of my family, as so many other men would have done.

“I am sorry, Eleanor.”

I did not say I forgave him, because I could not. Instead, I offered him something he might do for me. Though it would not be enough, it could be a beginning.

“Louis, when spring comes, promise me that you will take me home to Aquitaine.”

Relief dawned in his eyes. Here was a boon he could grant me, to make up for the pain he had caused. He leaped at it, as I knew he would. His sweet eagerness to please me softened my heart.

“I will take you home come spring, Eleanor. I promise you.”

I let him kiss me, and let him run his warm hands over my body, above the outline of my shift. His breath quickened as it always did, and for the first time since our wedding night, my breath quickened, too. He took me on my bed, there in the center of my newly whitewashed rooms.

Louis climaxed quickly, so quickly that I had barely begun to feel the heat in my own loins before he spent himself inside me. But it did not matter. I had long since stopped expecting pleasure from him.

Instead, I took pleasure in his warm arms around me, from the scent of his minty breath on my cheek. Louis held me close all that night. He did not pray even once. I forced myself to be satisfied with that.

 

 

I SPENT A LONG AND THANKLESS WINTER IN PARIS. THE CORRIDORS of that palace, cold in August, were dark and bone-chilling in December. And in spite of all my efforts, I could not bring the Parisian lords to sing or write music in honor of me, or of anything else. The Court of Love would not take hold in my husband's hall, no matter how I rewarded or encouraged it. My powers of seduction, which worked so well in Poitiers and Bordeaux, held no sway in Paris. They wanted to sing only to the Holy Mother, and then only in church. My first night in Paris, when Louis and his courtiers had been scandalized by my troubadour singing praises of me, had been only a taste of what was to come.

Parisians had no objection to dalliance, however. The men of my husband's court sported with any woman who came to hand, as the men in Aquitaine had done. But they would never extol a woman, not in public nor in private.

Abbot Suger came to dinner in the great hall one night and listened to my troubadours. He smiled at the lays they sang for me, all of which had been shortened and toned down in their praise, in the hope that I might persuade the Parisians to embrace the Court of Love. But even in their modified forms, Suger did not like my songs; he, like all the Parisian courtiers, seemed to think that voices should be raised only in praise of the Queen of Heaven. After that night, Suger sent a sweet-voiced choir of boys from St.-Denis to give us music while we dined.

I listened to that choir and applauded them, leading my people in polite acknowledgment of the abbot's gift. I paid the children in silver and sent them out again before my own man rose to sing. I was sure if they understood one word in ten of the langue d'oc, Bertrand would set that choir of virgins blushing.

Abbot Suger was not there the night his choir sang for us, but I sent him a basket of dried flowers from my garden the next morning. Louis was pleased by this gesture, and came once more to my bed, so neither the choir nor the flowers were wasted.

When spring came, rising from the damp ground like a blessing, I found I was with child. I had missed my bleeding for two months running, and on the third month when it did not come, I summoned the court physician.

“Your Majesty, it is a great day for you,” he said after examining me without touching me. He had asked me questions, one after another, and I knew that I would need to send for midwives to learn any woman's truth. If this man knew about matters of birthing, he would never tell me.

“A great day for France,” I said.

He bowed low to me. “And for His Majesty the King,” he said.

Amaria paid the learned physician in gold, but I knew he would not keep his mouth shut. The court would know of my pregnancy, and tell the king. Before the door had even closed behind the doctor, I sent word to Louis that I must see him alone, at once.

Louis must have known something of my condition already, for he did not keep me waiting. He had been with his ministers, planning our journey to Aquitaine. Louis and I had made arrangements already for our households to work together. My women ran my rooms, cared for my gowns and silks, saw to it that the wine I favored was always in stock in the palace. Louis' chamberlain ordered his rooms separately, and had ever since we came to Paris. This arrangement of separate households suited us, and we had never changed it. Now Amaria and Louis' chamberlain consulted each other so that our return to Poitiers would be seamless.