The troubadour's song

by Patricia Werner

  "If I did, I would not give them up."

  Gaucelm gave up on the argument and shifted to a direct appeal. "Come back to France with me."

  "And live in lands where I would be a stranger? Would that I could." She shook her head. "I do love you, Gaucelm. Surely you could tell that much. But I would not be able to forget. Why don't you stay and help us in the South? We need good knights like yourself."

  Now it was Gaucelm who had to look away. "My family and our home is in He de France. That, too, is inbred. I could not see my name held up as traitor to future generations of the Deluc family. It is a very old and respected name."

  Her shoulders slumped. The anger and resentment had not left her, but she knew that there was no end to this siege. Both of them would hold out. He waited a moment until their ire abated. Then he came to her and lifted her chin with his finger.

  "I did not bring you away to wage yet another war. We may not have a future, but we have this day. Let us not waste it."

  "How so?" she said warily.

  "We will go to the fair in Aix. We will pretend to be the simple householders that we are not."

  "And then?"

  "We will drink at a tavern. Make love at an inn."

  "And the next morn?"

  "I will ask you whether we should travel to Marseilles and take ship for England."

  He loved her that much, was all she could think. She was too choked by emotion to speak. "For England? To a land where we are both strangers? What possible fortunes would we have there?"

  "You see? You are as practical as I am, madam. We would have little fortunes. I would serve some lord who had need of my skills as knight. But we would have no land. You would be forced to be a lady-in-waiting to a lady who would decide every minute of your time. Or we could sail to foreign lands."

  She shook her head in sadness. If she believed in great adventure, she might be tempted. It would be a pleasant dream to contemplate these possibilities as they spent the day at the fair. But Gaucelm's mind seemed to be on other things again.

  He pressed his body against hers for a kiss. Their anger had departed, and in its place the desire and love sprang between them once more. Perhaps it was the notion that they had only one day together that made her reach for him once more. And he began to caress her as if he, too, knew that he must fill himself with her before he had to turn his back again.

  "I want you again, my lady," he said in a voice fraught with need.

  "And I you."

  Their movements became more sensual. He slid his hand under her tunic. Unable to bear their need, he led her deeper into the woods where thick branches and growth covered their lair. He did not even bother to make a bed for them, but leaned her

  back against a thick oak. He lifted her tunic and deftly played her body as an instrument, hearing it tremble at his touch. Then he loosened his linen until his flesh touched hers. He entered her then and there, supporting her in his strong grasp.

  Allesandra wound her legs around him and arched, her breasts aching, her head against the rough bark as he took her wantonly, as she wanted to be taken. Her whole being relished his powerful lovemaking, and his moans of possession only made her want to yield more. His mastery was erotic, bringing them both to a savage climax that merged with their wild surroundings.

  "My lord," she gasped when it was over, and her body sated. "I wish it could be so every day."

  "By God, we must find a way," he muttered before he opened his lips to plunge his tongue against hers as he still caressed her in the last vestiges of passion.

  Twenty

  Allesandra felt as if she'd entered an imaginary world as they rode toward the city gates of Aix, following the crowds to the fair. When the lane they followed came to the main highway, they saw that sergeants guarded the road to the fair, protecting traveling merchants and those who were carting goods home.

  She rode pillion behind Gaucelm, and he drew up a little distance away to get out of the way of a large hay wagon. But it gave him a chance to observe those in authority.

  "We cannot know if they are looking for a French knight and a lady from Toulouse," he said so that only Allesandra could hear.

  "We are simple householders going to shop at the fair, are we not?" she replied. For they had planned what to say if questioned.

  Indeed the packs they had fashioned made it look as if they

  had traveled some distance to attend and had a few goods to trade in exchange for fabrics, spices, and kitchen utensils they would wish to take home.

  "We will meld with the crowd. The peddler's clothes will not give us away," he said.

  "Provided your stature and air of command does not seem odd in a simple householder," she spoke warmly into his ear.

  He slouched his shoulders and leaned forward, grasping the pommel of the saddle to make it appear he was a less expert rider than he was. The fine battle charger they rode was another problem. But if questioned, they intended to claim that the horse had wandered onto their holding, and that they'd brought it to the fair to seek its owner in order to claim a reward.

  But the sergeants were too busy ordering a farmer to keep his herd of pigs to the side of the road out of the way of the carts and barely noticed the genteel householder and his lady as they passed by.

  At the city gates they passed by inspectors checking the quality of the goods being brought in and tax collectors examining documents of those going out to make sure taxes had been collected.

  Once inside the town, they followed the hubbub through streets filled with jugglers, acrobats, chained bears, and monkeys performing on street corners. Jongleurs sang and strummed on church steps. Even at this hour the taverns they passed thronged with patrons coming and going. At last they came to the big square where stalls and booths were set up between the larger halls for the cloth merchants.

  They disembarked at a stable and took their belongings.

  "Tell me," Gaucelm asked of the stableboy, a youth of sixteen or so. "Are the inns full? Or is there a place where my lady and I can put up?"

  "The inns were full a week ago," he answered. Then he looked them over as if to assess how much they could pay for a place to stay. "You might try the widow behind St. Peter's Church in Cooper's Alley. She has clean rooms."

  They thanked the boy and asked directions, then pushed

  through the crowds to a small house squeezed between church and a cooper's workshop. There they found the widow. After putting their request to the plump, dimpled woman in white wimple and veil and berry-colored gown, they were invited in.

  "The room was used by a spice merchant," she told them. "But he's gone now. How long do you plan to stay?"

  "Not long," Gaucelm answered, his eyes scanning the modest house. "Two days at most. Our flocks need tending, and our herder is not well."

  They agreed on a price that included their dinner and then the housewife showed them to the upstairs room and left them to unpack.

  "I think we'll be safe enough here," he said, stuffing their packs under the bed.

  Allesandra smiled at the quaintness of the place and tingled with pleasure at the sight of the clean, comfortable bed. Gaucelm seemed to follow her thoughts.

  "I thought a woman of your rank deserved better than a hay byre or a tree tonight."

  Her heart turned over as he came to put his arm around her shoulders and pull her next to him. She murmured against his cheek. "I appreciate your consideration for my comfort. But I shall never forget the hay byre, or the tree."

  He looked at her with love and already with the regret of parting which they both knew was inevitable. Then he kissed her gently and warmly as if wanting to make the most of their time together here.

  But she was too wise to think that Gaucelm had brought her here merely for a romantic escapade. "And after tonight? What do you plan to do then?"

  He looked as if he regretted having to say what was in his mind. But then his face drew into serious lines.

  "There are many trave
lers at this fair going east and west, north and south. Even to foreign lands. Should we wish to ally ourselves with some of them it would be possible to make our way to distant lands and never see France again."

  She could say nothing for a long moment. She grasped his arms and leaned her head against his shoulder. Finally, she lifted her head and looked up at him again.

  "You would do that for me, my lord? Go to a foreign land where as you said earlier we have no lands, no overlords who know our abilities and would respect our ranks?"

  He looked off into the distance as if he could see through the shuttered windows to faraway countries. "They might believe our reasons for being there and accord us respect for our ranks. You are a celebrated poet. But beyond our skills, we would have nothing. It would be a risk."

  He dropped his eyes to study her again. "But if that is what you wish to do, my lady, I will take you where you want to go."

  She lifted a hand to touch his face. Her eyes searched his. "To put our fate in the hands of God and seek our fortune elsewhere. To put this war behind us then?"

  He jutted his chin forward as if not capable of speaking.

  Tears moistened the corners of her eyes and once again she had difficulty forming her words. "To be with you every day and every night that you were not doing your forty days of feudal service to a new lord? It would be heaven."

  Her heart rippled at his love and at the dream he placed before her. But she lowered her eyes, closing them as she leaned against his shoulder again.

  "I thank you, my lord, for this dream. But of course it will remain a dream. We cannot do it, can we? For every day we might be filled with our love and ecstasy, but every day we would think of those we abandoned. My lands would suffer if I were not there to defend them. My people would die. I could not live with that."

  After a long moment holding her, he spoke again. "No, I did not think you could."

  "And you, my lord? Would you not be unhappy knowing you had abandoned family, king, and cause?" She did not mean it to sound bitter, but the truth of how well she knew him could not help but color her words.

  He gave a small grunt. "I would try to please you, my lady.

  And I would keep my word. But you would see the guilt I suffered. And that would erode our happiness, would it not?"

  "It would." With a great sigh, she broke away. "Then we will not travel with merchants to foreign lands. What then?"

  "Those same merchants will be going to the lands where we must go instead," he said slowly. "It will not be difficult to find escorts for you as far as your home if that is where you must

  go."

  Her throat clenched with emotion. "And if I must go to Avignon instead?"

  "To find out if your overlord Raymond of Toulouse is there?"

  She did not miss the jealousy in his voice. "Only because it is my duty to let him know that I am well."

  "And what will you tell him?"

  "I will say that when we became separated during the battle, that I found a horse, and the horse bolted. That French soldiers gave chase but that I was able to escape. However, I was thrown in the woods and twisted an ankle. Some cottagers took me in until I could walk again. Then I made my way back."

  "It is plausible. But it will not be easy to get you back into a city under siege. I think we have exercised every possible ploy in that attempt. Their gates will be firmly closed this time. They will not open them again for fear of yet another trick."

  She looked distraught. "Raymond will think me dead."

  "If he is still there."

  She lifted her chin. "Then I will go to Toulouse. I will need to tell Raymond the elder of how things fare. That is, if God wills that the old count still lives."

  The lines around Gaucelm's mouth deepened. "If you must go to Toulouse, then we will find you escort."

  Of course she understood that he could not go. For in enemy territory, he would be taken captive. Clearly he would return to his own camp at the siege of Avignon.

  "And you, my lord, what will you tell your king?"

  "That I was taken captive and held for ransom, but that I over-

  came my captors in a moment when their guard was down and made my way back to the camp."

  "Equally plausible. Will you be believed?"

  "I will make it so. Now come, we must at least appear to be purchasing goods for our home."

  Her heart contracted at the casual way he uttered words about their imaginary home. But she straightened her shoulders in order to face the fair without showing the emotions she really felt.

  Playing her part as housewife, she went from booth to booth and examined a vast array of kettles, spoons, pincers, spits, skewers, and long-handled forks. Pretending she was unable to decide, she moved along to prod and feel linsey-woolsey covers, hemmed to cover children's beds, even wandering to a furniture maker who displayed well-crafted chests, chairs, and writing desks.

  She made as if to go away and think about the purchases and found that Gaucelm was engaged in a similar charade near a pen where stock was kept. She stood in the background and watched Gaucelm examine cattle hooves as if he did it every day. And his apparent knowledge of the beasts made her wonder even more about his life in France and his own family's demesne. She felt a sudden longing to know his family. How tragic that she never should. He had sisters. To whom were they married? And what was the older brother like?

  He caught her watching him, and she saw the glint in his eye as he told the man that he would have to confer with his wife about their means.

  "There she is now," he said. "I must find out if she's spent all the household money. But your prices are fair. I will consider a new milk cow before we leave the fair."

  He came to lead her away from the stock pen. The mood of the day made her feel confident enough to tease him.

  "What will you do with a milk cow when you return to your King Louis?" she asked.

  "I will take the cow," he said. "We have a large army to feed, and one more milk cow will be helpful to the steward who must feed us. And what, pray tell, did you buy?"

  She shook her head. "Nothing. I can hardly travel with pots and pans back to Toulouse. It would belie my story about cottagers taking me in after I was chased by soldiers and thrown by a horse. Unless I say that I happened on a fair on the way to Toulouse."

  He guided her through the crowds, and she reveled in the simple intimacy of being with her imaginary husband sampling the pleasures of the fair.

  "Come," he said. "It is time we returned to the widow's house and took our dinner."

  When they entered the tidy, well-organized house, they took their places at a table that included other boarders. She had a moment of panic that she and Gaucelm would be tripped up in their tale. But Gaucelm was adept at mealtime conversation, and she had to do little but smile and nod as he made up a story about their holding as if he had given it great thought.

  They retired to their room for a rest after the meal. After he had shut the door on the rest of the world, Allesandra turned and said, "You once told me you did not have the gift of poetry or storytelling, my lord. I think it can be said that you created a story very well, and for an audience, no less."

  His face showed amusement and he came to her, letting his hands run up her arms to her shoulders. "Perhaps it is the inspiration of having my . . . woman next to me."

  She had no time to respond, for he lowered his head for a kiss. But before they became too involved in passion, he released her mouth and set her away from him.

  "However, I have not merely been telling a fantasy. I have learned what we need to know. There is a party of travelers making their way westward as far as Montpellier. I am going to arrange for us to travel with them. That will get you to the other side of the Rhone. Perhaps from there you can send for friends to escort you home."

  She let her hand drift to his sleeve. "I appreciate what you are doing, my lord. You know that if you wished it, you could take me hostage and collect ransom for me."r />
  He turned back and gripped her shoulders, looking into her face intently. "Do you wish me to do so? Just say the word and I will take you back to France with me. You would be my hostage, but I would accept no ransom to allow someone to take you from me.

  The thought of him taking her back with him held strong appeal, so much so that she had to force herself to look away. She didn't trust herself to words, and he gently released her, accepting her answer.

  "I dare only go as far as Montpellier," he said. "You should be safe there. The town has already bowed to the king. From there I will have to make my way northward."

  She gave a little nod, understanding the arrangement. All that would be a few days hence. She would not think about it yet.

  They returned to the fair and wandered through the crowds. They stopped at the church steps to watch tumblers, musicians, jugglers. As the evening turned to dusk, they wandered out toward the edges of the festivities, saying little, knowing that their time together was dear. Both of them had questions, both had no answers. They stopped in a lane behind a stockade fence, a willow tree dipping its branches to touch their cheeks.

  Gaucelm pulled her to him and held her gently, his lips in her hair. She drank in his embrace, but they staved off passion until they were again alone where he could show her the ecstasy she could only know with him. They exchanged soft words, tender endearments, but made no promises.

  "Come," he said at last. "We must find supper at a tavern. We will need nourishment to face the morrow."

  The taverns were full of revelers, but they squeezed onto a bench in a corner of one busy place. Gaucelm caught the eye of the serving girl who pushed aside the grasping, drunken men who taunted and reached for her as she came to see what Alle-sandra and Gaucelm would have. The girl was all eyes for Gaucelm's good looks, but with a glance at Allesandra's regal bearing, gave a toss of the head as if to say she knew that the

  handsome gentleman with the mysterious dark eyes was off lim-its.

  They ordered food and ale, but Allesandra found that she wasn't hungry. Gaucelm glanced idly around the room. He spoke in a low voice to Allesandra.