Canterbury Papers

by Judith Koll Healey

  “I did not!” Outrage laced his voice. “Do you think I had nothing better to do when I was running the abbey for Hugh Walter than ransack the rooms of guests? A fine demonstration of the Benedictine value of hospitality!”

  “William. If we are to have honesty between us, we must start now.” I propped myself on my elbow and looked into his eyes, those remarkable ice-blue eyes that could stop even rogue financiers in their tracks. He broke into a smile.

  “Well, all right, then. But I didn’t do it myself.”

  “But you had it done. And I can guess your purpose. You wanted to frighten me.”

  “It’s true.” His arm reached out and pulled a lock of hair loose from my braid. “I wanted you not to keep your vigil in the cathedral. I wanted you not to be accosted by John, and truly, I feared harm could come to you. But I have the jewels I took, Alaïs. And I did plan to return them.”

  “And, if I mistake not, you have already begun to make amends. It was you who sent to my room the beautiful chain of jewels for me to wear at Baron Roger’s dinner party.”

  “Yes, what happened to it? I haven’t thought of it since.”

  “I kept it. We can make an exchange one day, my own jewels for the one chain I have.”

  “I have a better idea. You keep the chain, and I will take my time returning the rest of your jewels … one by one, over many a year.”

  He pulled me toward him, and for a moment we lay a breath apart. “I don’t want to lose you again,” he whispered. “In some way you have always been in my life as a dream. Now that I have discovered you, I need you there in the flesh as well.”

  “But we have different paths,” I said, as simply as I could, disengaging myself.

  “What would you do? Go back to Philippe’s court? But you are not happy there.”

  “I will go back for now. But I will leave the court soon. I have property in Ponthieu. I think it is time for me to move my household to my own estate.”

  “Philippe will not be pleased.” We lay now, side by side.

  “No, I expect not. He has always wanted me close. But I am tired of the life his family and friends live. And I will visit him often. In truth, he is so busy he may think I still dwell on the Île de la Cité even if I am off in Picardy.”

  “What about François?”

  “I have to think about him. It would be good if he could join me, but I wouldn’t want to deprive him of a life at court. Or better yet, a life on the stage.” I had to laugh, but then I suddenly sobered. “I would like him to be with me for some while. Mayhap, when we have got to know each other, he could make his own decision.”

  “A good course of action.” William turned to me. “You really are wise, you know.” He paused for effect. “For a woman.”

  “Oh, you are a fine one.” I began to tear off the long grass and throw it at him, in a most unroyal way.

  He grabbed my hand, this time with great glee, and drew me close. And after we had kissed long, I said to him, “And what of your future?”

  He rolled onto his back once again. “I have a commitment to the order as grand master in England for three more years. Then I have been thinking of retiring to the country. I am tired of power and its responsibilities.”

  “Retire to the country? You? To do what? Be a country squire, after all this excitement? I think not, Sir William. Oh, excuse me—Lord William, whatever that’s about.”

  “I have land in the north of England, left to me by Becket, and a title that I never use, left to me by Henry before he died. Oh, and one manor in Normandy. And, to tell the truth, although I still like the planning and intrigue, my bones are weary of the days when I must ride the road from sunup to sunset. And many meetings on finances, like the one with the House of Lyons, require my presence. Three more years will be more than enough. Someone else can take over.”

  “Perhaps in between your travels, you will find your way to Ponthieu.”

  He rolled onto his side to face me. “If you were there, I would find my way with alarming regularity.”

  “If you come, I will be there.”

  My heart was joyful at these words, although I would not have admitted it for all the almond cream in Poitou.

  We lay watching the sky together in silence. A huge wild falcon wheeled overhead, then spun off into the distance. At last I said what was in my heart. “When I was a young woman, I used to ride in these fields with Marguerite and our stepbrothers. I was so in love with Richard, and I looked forward to what our life together would be.”

  “But things turned out differently.”

  “Yes, you are right. And what I have learned from this remarkable journey is that those memories belong to the past. They are out of another time. Holding on to them, and the anger around them, has done me little good.” I turned my head and pulled the fuzz off the dandelions that stood next to my cheek. When I opened my hand, the wind captured the ephemeral, cloudlike clumps and drew them up into the air. “That is why I could let the talisman go. I don’t want it back. It has served its purpose for me, and now it can serve another purpose for someone else.”

  I turned close, my breath on his cheek now. “I promise you, William grand master, that I release all those memories. That the whole of me is in the present, not lurking in past times or with ghosts. And that in the future, those who give me joy will be those on whom I spend myself.”

  He propped his head up on one elbow, looking down at me. The sun shone now in his face, and I could see the etchings of age on it, those deep lines that ran from under his eyes to his mouth on each side. I realized he could see my face clearly also, in all its honest age. And the idea gave me some amusement.

  “And I promise you that in however many years we have left, whatever we do, we will not lose each other again.”

  And that was sufficient for the moment.

  Afterword

  The royal princess Alaïs Capet (pronounced Al-ah-ees Ka-pā) is a true historical figure. Born to Louis VII, called le Jeune, and his second wife, Constance of Castile, Alaïs and her elder sister, Marguerite, were actually sent to live with the court of Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine, Louis’s first wife and the mother of his first two daughters.

  Alaïs was betrothed at an early age to Richard, later to be called Lionheart, and Marguerite to the elder Plantagenet brother Henry Court Mantel. King Henry did indeed take Alaïs as his mistress after he imprisoned Eleanor in Old Sarum. And, as one might expect, the marriage to Richard never took place. Following Henry’s death Alaïs was returned to Philippe’s court, where, after some time, she apparently married someone named William. More than that, historians do not tell us, but several say that the chronicles of the time hint that there was a child born of Henry and Alaïs.

  Setting aside the magnificent soap opera of the Plantagenet family and its ongoing dance with the royal house of France, what lover of good stories could help but be arrested by the possibilities offered in the real scenario? And so, as I read medieval history for several years to amuse myself, often while traveling in France and England, I began to wonder. What if Alaïs was not the pawn she appeared to be, buffeted between her betrothed and his powerful father? What if instead she was cut of the cloth of some other women of her time: Eleanor of Aquitaine, who married two kings and mothered two more; Marie de Champagne, Eleanor’s eldest daughter by Louis, who patronized Chrétien de Troyes and thus gave us the incomparable Arthurian cycle of stories; Christine de Pizan; Hildegarde of Bingen; Eleanor de Montfort; Blanche of Castile? These were powerful women of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries who changed the course of history with their wit, their resourcefulness, and their courage to be themselves. That question—“What if?”—is the beginning of every fictional exploration.

  Much of the history in this book is accurate, although I have taken great liberties with the Knights Templar in creating Lord William. In most cases, I have tried to stay close to actual historical dates. I want to acknowledge, however, that Henry’s mother, Matilda, is rep
orted to have died in 1167, and thus could not have raised François herself. Also, Master Averroës is said to have died in 1195, and thus could not have attended the significant meeting with Duke Robert in northern Europe in 1200, the year of this novel’s action. I am grateful for the many books that fed my understanding of these times. This novel would not have been formed without W. L. Warren’s towering biography Henry II and Amy Kelly’s classic work Eleanor of Aquitaine and the Four Kings. Also worthy of mention are Marion Meade’s Eleanor of Aquitaine and Richard Coeur de Lion by Philip Henderson. Many works by Georges Duby were helpful, in particular William Marshal: The Flower of Chivalry.

  Several books by Jacques le Goff had an impact on my understanding of the Middle Ages: Intellectuals in the Middle Ages and The Medieval Imagination are two such. For further understanding of the mysterious Knights Templar, The Temple and the Lodge by Michael Baigent and Richard Leigh is a great general history, and for a more serious treatment, the classic by Malcolm Barber, The New Knighthood, is a good resource.

  For those interested in the Spanish-Arabic connection, a most complete accounting may be found in The Great Medieval Civilizations, volume III, published by Harper & Row, the international authors of which were assembled by a commission of UNESCO. It is from this work that we understand that eyeglasses came from Arab invention and were used as early as the twelfth century in western Europe.

  Canterbury Cathedral aficionados will enjoy The Quest for Becket’s Bones, especially the part about the fire and the removal of Becket’s remains, as well as the penance Henry performed at the site.

  Two other books deserve mention for their assessment of the place of women in the Middles Ages: Denis de Rougemont’s Love in the Western World and R. Howard Bloch’s Medieval Misogyny and the Invention of Western Romantic Love. Although de Rougemont’s thesis of the origins of Western romantic love has been bitterly challenged (so much so that in the last edition he added an appendix consisting of twelve extra chapters to defend it!), his understanding of the influence of Arabic poetry and learning on the courts of southern France and subsequently on the whole of Western Europe remains a significant contribution.

  I have visited and been moved by nearly every place described in this novel. The Conciergerie on the Île de la Cité in Paris is, in part, still the same building from which Alaïs departs on her fateful mission. The ducal palace with its great hall still stands in Poitiers. And while Canterbury is much changed, and Chinon and Old Sarum are now just ruins or outlines of buildings long gone, one can imagine what they were like in former times. Indeed, it was the monastery of Moissac in southern France that was the true model for the Canterbury scenes in this book. The Montjoie château near Chinon still stands and is now a very classy Relais et Château establishment. Still, there are echoes of other voices when one visits.

  Historical Note

  We know a great deal about the Middle Ages, but there remains disagreement among historians on some of the peripheral details. A case in point is the sobriquet “Court Mantell.” My sources indicate the usage for the Young King, the son of Henry and Eleanor, to distinguish him from his father as a young man, before his crowning. The elder Henry was called Henry Fitzempress, in honor of his mother’s title from her first marriage. Other sources have been called to my attention, in which this appelation is given to the father, Henry II. I hope the reader will bear easily with these differences, and enjoy the story for what it is.

  Acknowledgments

  I owe many, past and present, a debt of gratitude for ideas and encouragement in my happy search for these characters and this story: to John Berryman for suggesting years ago that I read Denis de Rougemont; to Emilie Buchwald, Jonis Agee, and John Desteian; to early (and sometimes often) readers Lynn Cowan, Pat Cummings, and Alice Buhl, thanks for their suggestions and encouragement; and to Jon Hassler for helping me understand the joys of rewriting. Special thanks to Dee Ready, friend, writer, and editor, for all her help.

  My gratitude also goes to the sisters of the Monastery of St. Benedict in St. Joseph, Minnesota, for their hospitality over several weeks, which allowed me to finish and revise the book. Sisters Ruth Nierengarten and Margaret Van Kampen, wonderful artists both, contributed materially to the manuscript, and for that I am grateful.

  Thanks also to my sons, Sean, Paul, Mike, and Colin, for interest and encouragement. Without the able assistance of my agent, Marly Rusoff, and the superb editorial direction of Carolyn Marino, the book would not have come to completion. Special thanks to my husband and best reader, Michael, for loving the story.

  About the Author

  JUDITH HEALEY, whose hobby is medieval history, manages two family foundations. She lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota, where she is at work on another novel featuring the extraordinary Alais of France.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.

  PRAISE FOR

  The Canterbury Papers

  “Assured and wholly entertaining.”

  —Detroit Free Press

  “Lavish and intriguing.”

  —Mystery News

  “A beautifully plotted and fascinating story. Rarely does an historical novel have this much pace and intrigue. I thoroughly enjoyed it!”

  —Robert Alexander, New York Times bestselling author of The Kitchen Boy

  “A rich, regal adventure to be savored and remembered. Though clearly anchored in the days of yore, the story is as compelling as a contemporary page-turner.”

  —Karen Harper,New York Times bestselling author ofThe Falls and The Queene’s Christmas

  “Intriguing premise.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  “Delightful.”

  —Mysterious Women

  “In this well-plotted debut, Princess Alais Capet is the heroine—and a delightful one at that… The pace moves at breakneck speed… Highly recommended.”

  —Library Journal

  “Engaging medieval suspense debut… Healey’s well-researched historical drama … delights in poking fun at the stuffiness and misbehavior that characterized the royal families of the time… Fresh and absorbing.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Brims with authentic historical detail … suspenseful.”

  —Minneapolis Star Tribune

  “Debut novelist Healey brings medieval history to life in magnificent fashion as she adds a new twist to an old legend… Electrifying journey into the past.”

  —Booklist

  “The past comes alive in this stunning debut… Mysteries unfold within mysteries in this skillfully layered story, which will keep readers guessing until the final engaging pages… A delicious debut.”

  —Romantic Times

  “Engaging medieval suspense debut … most pleasurable.”

  —Once upon a Crime

  “Be sure to get this one. It’s one of the best I’ve read in a long time, combining an intriguing period of history, smooth writing, excellent characterization of real historic figures, and a fine plot with plenty of twists.”

  —The Facts

  Credits

  Cover design by Mary Schuck

  Cover photograph by Mary Javorek

  Copyright

  Grateful acknowledgment is made to reprint the poem by Omar Ibn

  al-Faridh from Love in the Western World by Denis de Rougement.

  Copyright © 1983 by Princeton University Press. Reprinted by

  permission of Princeton University Press.

  This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events,

  establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide

  a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters,

  and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s

  imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  A hardcover edition of this book was published in 2004 by

  William Morrow, an imprint of HarperCollins Pu
blishers.

  THE CANTERBURY PAPERS. Copyright © 2004 by Judith Koll Healey.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  DESIGNED BY JENNIFER ANN DADDIO

  MAP BY JANE S. KIM

  The Library of Congress has catalogued the hardcover edition as follows:

  Healey, Judith Koll.

  The Canterbury papers / Judith Koll Healey.—1st ed.

  p. cm.

  ISBN 0-06-052535-5

  1. Eleanor, of Aquitaine, Queen, consort of Henry II, King of England,

  1122?–1204—Fiction. 2. Great Britain—History—Richard I,

  1189–1199—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3608.E236L67 2004

  813’.6—dc21 2003053987

  ISBN: 9780060773328

  EPub Edition © FEBRUARY 2012 ISBN: 9780062196804

  05 06 07 08 09 /RRD 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

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