Plantagenet 1 - The Plantagenet Prelude

by Jean Plaidy

  Saldebreuil de Sanzay arrived back. She was delighted to see him not because he was a man whom she found charming so much as because his return was a symbol of Saladin’s desire to please her.

  Comparing the Saracen with Louis she despised her husband more than ever. So much meditation, so many prayers irritated her and she had no doubt whatsoever that she wished to escape from him.

  She loved her uncle but he was after all her uncle and he was getting old. Saladin was young.

  The prospect of having a new husband excited her. She would not wish to make the same mistake again. She would not want a half man as she was beginning to think Louis was. What had Louis but his dominions? Strip Louis of his crown and there was not a man at his court whom she would not have preferred.

  But Saladin! A Saracen!

  Why not? There had been marriages between Christians and Saracens before this.

  She would test herself. She would see how she felt about marriage with a Saracen. She must be sure that there should be a perfect union between them.

  Her manner had changed towards him. She was warmer, more inviting.

  Saladin was not the man to be blind to her veiled suggestions.

  At their next meeting they became lovers.

  A most exhilarating experience for Eleonore.

  They lay together afterwards and talked of the possibilities of a marriage. First of course she must rid herself of that tiresome encumbrance, the King of France.

  Saladin was dubious of this possibility, but he did not say so. He was eager to please his new and exciting mistress and was ready to indulge in any fantasy she suggested.

  Louis was becoming restive. He had tarried long enough in Antioch; he had profited from the respite; he had refitted his army and he was now ready to march on to the Holy City.

  This was something Eleonore would not tolerate. She was how deeply absorbed in her love affair with Saladin. She believed that she could happily marry him and remain in this area not far from her beloved uncle.

  Louis paced up and down in their bedchamber. Eleonore lay in bed watching him, noting his lack of physical charm, comparing him with Saladin and Raymond.

  ‘Within a week I intend to move on,’ Louis was saying. ‘I have delayed here long enough.’

  ‘You were glad enough to get here.’

  ‘Indeed I was after all our troubles, but we have tarried long enough and must move on now.’

  ‘You are wrong. You should stay here.’

  ‘For what purpose?’

  ‘My uncle has explained the need to fight the infidel here.’

  Louis looked weary. ‘It is something I have decided against.’

  ‘Why? Because you are afraid to fight? Because you are only half a man?’

  He looked at her sadly. She had shown so often - and particularly of late - that she despised him.

  ‘You know the reason,’ he said. ‘I have come on a crusade. I do not intend to use my armies in other wars.’

  Her eyes flashed. ‘Are you a king in truth?’

  ‘You know I am the King of France and you the Queen. It would become you to behave as such.’

  Was this an implication that he knew of her adventures? She would rather boldly confess to her indiscretions than that he should discover and think she had sought to hide them.

  ‘It is clear to me,’ she said, ‘that you and I should never have married.’

  ‘Never have married! Ours was a marriage which was highly approved both in France and Aquitaine.’

  ‘I have much to bring you. You had something to give me. That in itself was not displeasing. But as man and woman, Louis, you must know that we are quite unsuited.’

  ‘As King and Queen we must agree to suit each other.’

  ‘Why so?’

  He looked astonished. ‘How could it be otherwise?’

  ‘There is such a thing as divorce.’

  ‘Divorce! You cannot be serious. The King and Queen of France divorced!’

  ‘I see no reason why a marriage which is unsuitable and distasteful should be continued.’

  ‘Distasteful?’

  ‘To me … yes! I want a man for a husband not a monk. Let us have a divorce. I will marry again and you can go back to the Church. That is an admirable solution for us both.’

  ‘I do not think you can be speaking seriously.’

  ‘I am deadly serious. I have had enough of this, Louis. I want my freedom.’

  ‘You would give up the crown of France?’

  ‘It does not mean so much to me, and you, Louis, will have to give up Aquitaine.’

  ‘I would not have believed this possible.’

  ‘No, you would not. You are only half alive. Your heart is in the Church. Go back to the Church and give me my freedom.’

  He was silent. He sat on a stool and stared blankly ahead of him.

  ‘Well?’ said Eleonore impatiently.

  ‘This is a matter of State,’ replied Louis. ‘I must talk of it with my ministers.’

  ‘Talk with whom you will, but give me my freedom. I repeat, Louis, I have had enough. It is time you and I parted.’

  She lay down and closed her eyes.

  Louis continued to sit staring into space.

  The next day Louis summoned his counsellors and confronted them with the Queen’s proposal.

  It was impossible, he was told by some. There could not possibly be a divorce.

  Others thought that the Queen’s behaviour was not that expected of a Queen. It had never been. The Queen came from the South and all knew that morals in the South were less strict than those in the North. The Queen’s grandfather had been a notorious roue, and the Queen continued his practice of keeping a court of songsters and some of the songs they sang were not in the best taste.

  Aquitaine was to be considered. There would be trouble there. If the King could retain the Queen’s territory then divorce might be an admirable solution. The King could then marry a docile princess, get a son and there would be no more trouble in the royal domestic circle.

  Louis was distraught. She despised him but he loved her. Strange that he who had never been interested in women should have felt so strongly about one, and she his wife. When he had first seen her, young, vital, beautiful and clever, her quick mind putting his to shame, he had adored her. She had reconciled him to marriage and kingship. But he knew that lately she had despised him. She had refused to make love with him. Not that he wished to indulge in this occupation with any great frequency. But there was the need to get an heir for so far they only had little Marie. Yet she had repulsed him, and that was strange, for Eleonore in the past had revelled in the act and had often lured him to perform it more often than he would have thought of doing.

  She really did despise him. There was no doubt of it and he was uncertain how to act.

  Thierry Galeran, the eunuch, asked for a private interview with him, and when Louis granted it Galeran said he had come to talk of a delicate matter, and before he began, he craved the King’s indulgence if he should say anything to offend him.

  Louis, who was the most tolerant of men, was surprised and asked Galeran to say what he had to without fear of giving offence.

  ‘It concerns the Queen, Sire.’

  Louis looked distressed and Galeran hurried on. ‘It is with great grief that I must tell you this, but the Queen has not been faithful to you.’

  Louis shook his head but in his heart he had known.

  ‘You must not make such accusations, Galeran, unless you have proof of what you say.’

  ‘I have proof, Sire. The Queen has behaved criminally with two men. Her uncle Raymond and the Prince Saladin.’

  ‘That is impossible. The Queen’s own uncle and an infidel!’

  ‘It has happened,’ said Galeran. ‘I can bring witnesses to support my story.’

  Louis was stunned. That the Queen should have been unfaithful perhaps did not surprise him so much, but that she should have chosen to play him false with two such
people was unthinkable. Her uncle and a Saracen! Had she no feeling for the proprieties of life! Her own uncle. That was incest. A Saracen - a man not of her own creed and colour!

  He knew that Galeran would not have made the accusation if he could not support it. He knew too that his father had been right when he had said that Galeran was a man whom he could trust to serve him. It was true that Eleonore hated Galeran. She had made caustic comments about him. She despised eunuchs, and being headstrong and impulsive had made no effort to hide her contempt. Galeran would have no warm feelings towards her, yet there must be some truth in his accusations.

  ‘It would seem, Sire, that there is only one course open to you. To rid yourself of such a Queen.’

  ‘You heard the findings of the Council.’

  ‘If some means could be found to keep her lands under the Crown of France …’

  The King shook his head. ‘Imagine the wars, Galeran. The people of Aquitaine would take up arms against us. They are loyal to Eleonore. They would accept no other ruler.’

  Galeran was thoughtful.

  ‘You will not continue to stay here and allow the Queen to deceive you. It would put you into a position which must be unacceptable to any man and doubly so to the King of France.’

  ‘You are right, Galeran. We must leave here without delay. But the Queen will not agree to go.’

  Galeran said: ‘The Queen must be made to go.’

  ‘Short of carrying her by force I see no way of getting her to leave.’

  ‘Then, Sire, we must needs carry her by force, for you will see and so will your counsellors, that the present state of affairs is one not to be tolerated by the King of France.’

  Louis bowed his head. He was deeply wounded and bitterly humiliated. He kept thinking of the first time he had seen her and been so enchanted by her beauty and intelligence.

  What had gone wrong that they should come to this?

  She was going to meet her lover. How courteous Raymond was! How gallantly he stood aside for Saladin! This was how life should be lived. She had always known it. Love was supreme, that of which they sang in their ballads was truth. Nothing else was of any importance. She was going to rid herself of Louis. She was going to marry Saladin. He would become a Christian and their marriage would be the first step towards bringing Christianity to Islam.

  What a joyful manner in which to bring about that desired conclusion! She would be almost a saint for what she had done for Christendom - and at the same time bringing great joy to herself!

  The summer house in the garden was their meeting place. It had proved so good for her and Raymond, and Raymond now stepped aside and left it to her and Saladin.

  As she passed the bushes she heard the snap of a twig. She looked over her shoulder and as she did so was seized in a pair of strong arms.

  She expected to see her lover’s face, and smiling she turned. She was looking into the hated eyes of Thierry Galeran.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded.

  ‘I have come to tell you that the King is about to leave Antioch and wishes you to go to him without delay.’

  She was furious. How dared this man lay hands on her! She was about to demand her release when two soldiers appeared beside him.

  ‘This is treason,’ she said. ‘I shall have you punished … severely. You shall be …’

  ‘My lady,’ said Galeran, ‘we obey the orders of the King.’

  ‘The orders of the King! What of them! I tell you …’

  ‘We are the King’s men,’ said Galeran. ‘I beg you come quietly or we shall be obliged to use force.’

  ‘How dare you …’

  But she was seized by the shoulders. The indignity was more than she could bear. Where was Saladin? Where was Raymond?

  Filled with rage by her own powerlessness, she had no alternative but to allow herself to be hustled out of the gardens.

  More soldiers appeared. She was wrapped in a concealing cloak and forced to go with them through the city and out of its walls.

  There the French army was camped ready for immediate departure.

  Furious, frustrated but powerless, Eleonore had no alternative but to go with them.

  Chapter IV

  THE ROYAL DIVORCE

  She was a prisoner - a prisoner with her husband’s army.

  They were on their way to Jerusalem and although Louis was distressed by the rift with his wife he felt happier in his mind to contemplate the proximity of the Holy City.

  Eleonore was furious. She would never forgive him, she declared. He had abducted her. He had treated her to the utmost indignity. He had sent her old enemy, Galeran, to arrest her as though she were a common felon; and she had been forced to leave without saying farewell to her friends.

  What would they think of her? What would they think of Louis? She was humiliated and she hated the source of her humiliation.

  Those were unhappy months for Louis. She never ceased railing against him; she liked to taunt him with his performance both as lover and soldier.

  ‘Go back to the Church,’ she would cry. ‘Go to a monk’s cell. But first free me so that I may marry a man who is a man.’

  She hoped that Raymond or Saladin would come against Louis and rescue her. But perhaps that was asking too much. It would make a beautiful ballad, but real life was not exactly like that. Raymond had his great plan to think of: making war on the Greeks. As for Saladin he would doubtless remain an infidel and the great opportunity to bring Islam peacefully to Christianity would be lost.

  She railed and stormed, but it was of no avail. They marched on, and in due course came to Jerusalem where King Baldwin warmly received them. This was Louis’s destination. Now he could say his prayers and receive absolution. The sin of Vitry could drop from his shoulders. He should have felt exultant. But he did not. Constantly Eleonore made friction between them. Baldwin wished him to join in with plans for aggression against the infidel, and the peace he craved was as far off as ever.

  He would stay in Jerusalem for a while, he declared. Eleonore was restive.

  ‘What good do you do here?’ she demanded.

  ‘Don’t you feel the peace of the place? This is the Holy City. Here you and I will pray together for the strength and courage to make a new start.’

  ‘The new start I wish to make does not include you,’ retorted Eleonore.

  She was furious. She could not get the perfections of Saladin out of her mind. She had given up hope now that he would bring an army to take her from her husband.

  Of one thing she was certain. There was going to be a divorce from Louis. She would not rest until she had achieved that. And if she did not marry Saladin - which on more careful consideration seemed perhaps a reckless thing to do - there were other men in the world, young, virile rulers who would be delighted to get their hands on Eleonore … and Aquitaine.

  She would find somone. But first she must put into effect her escape from Louis.

  The days dragged on. Louis found great solace in the Holy City. Here, he was fond of pointing out, had trod those sacred feet. Here he was at peace. He wished that he could spend the rest of his days in the holy spot.

  How he wished there need not be this continual talk of war, though he recognised the need to repel the infidel.

  His ministers pointed out to him that it was unwise to leave his kingdom too long. His brother Robert was notoriously ambitious. The people had been loyal to Louis but memories were short and he had been away so long.

  Eleonore was agitating to leave. She knew that there could be no satisfactory conclusion to their affairs while they were away. They must return to France and have the matter sorted out.

  Still the months passed and when they had been in Jerusalem an entire year, Louis realised that he could delay no longer. He must return to his kingdom. Vessels were procured at Saint-Jean d’Acre and as the King of Sicily was at war with Greece his country seemed a good place for them to make for, on the way back to France.

&
nbsp; Eleonore declared that she would not travel in the King’s ship but would have a ship of her own and travel with those who were her friends. The King could go with his entourage, she pointed out bitterly. Men such as the eunuch Galeran who seemed to please him so much.

  Feeling it would be good to escape from her bitter tongue for a while, Louis agreed and they set sail in the month of July in their separate vessels. After the year in Jerusalem memories of Saladin were beginning to fade, but those of Raymond remained.

  Perhaps, thought Eleonore, in a way she had really loved Raymond.

  That journey by sea from Saint-Jean d’Acre was one Eleonore would never forget. She had not believed there could have been such misery; as she lay in her bunk she wished that she could die. This was utter degradation and discomfort. Occasionally she thought cynically of the days in Paris when she had planned this trip; of the beautiful garments she had accumulated and the dreams that had come to her. How different was the reality! Yet she tried to remind herself there had been the wonderful experiences with Raymond and Saladin. Alas they seemed as remote as her childhood now.

  She cursed Louis. He was the one who had had the idea that they should set out for the Holy Land. He was the one who had forced her to leave Antioch. But for him she would be there now in blissful comfort and exhilarating company. Of one thing she was determined. She was going to divorce Louis.

  On and on went the ship. Would the journey never end? Often she believed that the vessel would sink and they would all be drowned. Sometimes she thought they might be taken by pirates and half hoped they would. Anything would be better than these days when there was nothing around them but the eternal sea.

  She became ill and for days was delirious. At least, she thought afterwards, at those times I did not know where I was.

  Her attendants despaired of her life, and when miraculously they finally reached Naples in safety she had to be carried ashore, so weak was she.

  Louis had already arrived. He had passed through several adventures.

  He sat by her couch in the palace which had been put at their disposal, and she could see that he was hoping she had changed her mind.