by Tania Bayard
Marion waited impatiently until they’d gone. Then she said, ‘I didn’t know who he was, and he didn’t tell me.’
‘Who are you talking about?’
‘Martin du Bois. He said I shouldn’t go around asking about someone I don’t even know. I didn’t realize he was talking about himself. It wasn’t until after he left that I guessed it was him.’ She started to laugh. ‘You won’t believe it when I tell you what he looks like. Klara certainly had us fooled.’
‘I know. I’ve seen him, too.’
‘Where?’
‘He followed me into the church of Saint-Jacques-la-Boucherie. He told me who he was. He said he needs my help.’
‘Help doing what?’
‘Help finding Klara’s brother, Willem. He’s the one who’s trying to kill the king.’
‘Is he sure?’
‘Absolutely. He told me Willem hates the king for what he did in Courtrai. He hates Martin, too. That’s why Martin went into hiding. He has to make sure he gets to Willem before Willem gets to him.’
‘Do you think Klara’s seen her brother?’
‘I wouldn’t be surprised. We have to suspect them both. But there’s one good thing about this. The queen’s dwarf is convinced the murderer is the Duchess of Burgundy. That’s a dangerous thought. Now we don’t have to worry about it.’
‘I don’t know about that. Perhaps the duchess is in league with the boy.’
Christine thought for a moment. ‘That could be. Someone seems to be helping him. Otherwise, how would he have known there would be a masquerade and the king would be in a flammable costume? It was supposed to be a secret.’
‘He could have heard about it from someone at the palace. Or from someone in the street, like I did. I heard Huguet de Guisay boasting about it.’
‘So that’s how you knew! I thought perhaps you had sources of information at the palace. Some of the guards, for example.’
‘People always think things like that about prostitutes.’
Christine looked at Marion, took a deep breath, and asked, ‘Do you still make your living as a prostitute, Marion?’
Marion laughed. ‘Not really. But don’t tell Brother Michel. It’s so much fun to argue with him.’
Christine smiled. ‘I’ll miss hearing you two taunt each other.’
‘But that isn’t important now,’ Marion said. ‘We have to find Willem. Does Martin have any idea where he is?’
‘No. And Martin will have to hide until the boy is found.’
‘How can we possibly find him? He could be anywhere in Paris.’
‘I don’t think so. Martin thinks he’s hiding somewhere at the palace. And the queen feels it. I’m sure she’s right.’
THIRTY-SEVEN
The Duke of Orléans is comely in every way; handsome, with a pleasing and good-natured manner, magnificent in his rich and beautiful attire.
Christine de Pizan, Livre des faits et bonnes moeurs du sage roi Charles V, 1404
Alips walked away from the queen’s chambers, too preoccupied to look where she was going, until she came to a passageway that overlooked the hall where the tragic ball had been held and saw the Duke of Orléans wandering around in the great space below. Curious, she went down some stairs into a corridor next to the hall and peered cautiously around the door. She could hear the duke muttering something to himself, and she ventured closer.
‘I don’t see how it’s possible,’ she heard him say. His face was covered with tears. She stepped a bit closer and stumbled. The duke turned. At first he didn’t see her, then he looked down.
‘Who are you? What are you doing here?’
Alips fell to her knees. ‘I don’t mean any harm, Monseigneur. Perhaps you have never seen me before. I’m the queen’s dwarf, Alips.’
‘I’ve heard about you. People tell me you have strange powers.’
Alips was frightened. Was the duke going to accuse her of being a witch? Did he think she had a hand in causing the king’s madness?
Louis motioned for her to rise. He no longer looked angry, but he was studying her intently. ‘What do you know about me?’ he asked.
She mumbled something about how she knew he was the king’s brother.
‘That’s not what I meant,’ the duke said. ‘I’m asking whether you know that everyone hates me because I caused the fire that killed four men and could have killed the king?’
‘I know people think you caused the fire, Monseigneur. But I know you did not.’
Louis started to laugh. ‘Of course, you would say that. You are just like everyone else, trying to curry favor with me. But you won’t succeed, my little friend. Get out of my sight!’
Alips stood as tall as she could and looked up at the duke, meeting his eyes. ‘I am, indeed, little. And you’re right to call me your friend, because I know it wasn’t your torch that started the fire.’
‘How could you know such a thing?’
‘I know why you’re here, looking at the floor. You’re trying to understand how it could have been your fault. I’ll tell you again, it wasn’t.’
‘If only I could believe you.’ The duke’s eyes filled with tears.
‘You must believe me, Monseigneur.’
‘It had to have been my torch. No one told me there was going to be a masquerade, or that my brother and his friends were going to be in costumes covered with pitch. But just because I was ignorant, that does not make me less guilty.’
‘But you aren’t guilty, Monseigneur.’
Louis was crying now, and Alips was heartsick to see it. She knew that this handsome, elegant man, so different from his brother, had two sides. He was greedy, spending wildly of his own vast fortune and plundering more from the royal treasury; he was arrogant; he seduced many women; and he was hungry for power. But she also knew that he was exceptionally pious, a man of contradictions. It pained her to see him suffer.
She said, ‘I know you are going to try to make amends for the fire by having a new chapel built at the Celestine priory. That is a fine thing to do. But it will not assuage the guilt you feel. The only thing that will do that is for you to believe what I tell you. The fire was not your fault.’
Louis was weeping so hard now she feared he would make himself sick. She took his hand in hers, a soft hand that she knew had caressed countless women, and she felt the attraction all those women felt for him. Seemingly without thinking, he touched her hair, and a thrill ran thought her body. But she knew this was not for her, a woman certainly, but nevertheless, a dwarf. She moved away and stood looking at him.
‘Monseigneur,’ she said. ‘Look up at the musicians’ balcony.’
‘The musicians can’t have had anything to do with it. I know them all.’
‘But there was someone else there that night. I was up there, too, and I saw him throw a torch.’
The duke looked Alips up and down, and she felt herself withdrawing into her small body, ashamed of it. She knew what he was thinking.
‘You can’t imagine how someone as short as I am could get up there. That’s because you cannot put yourself in anyone else’s shoes. We little people have ways of accomplishing what we want. Stop thinking only of yourself.’
The duke had a strange look on his face. She knew that if she’d gone too far she would pay for it. But instead of lashing out at her, he crumpled and fell to the floor, weeping.
Alips was dumbfounded. At first she just stood there, not knowing what to do. Perhaps I should leave so he can forget I saw him in his moment of weakness, she thought. She started to walk away. Then she returned. She watched the sobbing duke for a moment. Then she sat down on the floor beside him and stroked his head.
‘Now will you listen to me?’ she said when he became calmer. ‘It was not your torch that set those men on fire.’
‘If the musicians saw someone throw a torch, they would have told me about it.’
‘Perhaps they didn’t see. But someone threw a torch, and I saw him do it.’
‘T
hen you must know who it was.’
‘I don’t. He was in the shadows, and he ran away. I can drag myself up those steep stairs, but to chase someone down them is beyond me.’
Louis smiled.
‘Yes, I know you’re picturing it. How I waddled over to the stairs, hitched up my skirt, and pulled myself up, step by difficult step, my behind sticking out. A comical sight, I’m sure.’
‘Now who’s feeling sorry for herself?’ the duke asked, and they both started to laugh. This is the way men and women get to know each other, Alips thought. But it’s not for me. She remembered what Eustache Deschamps had said to her, equating misshapen limbs with misshapen minds. There are a lot of misshapen minds around here, she thought. My limbs may not be normal, but my mind is perfectly good. I don’t feel sorry for myself at all.
The duke had risen from the floor. ‘If it wasn’t one of the musicians, who could it have been?’
‘Do you know that the vielle player, Bernart le Brun, is dead?’
‘I hadn’t heard anything about it.’
‘He was poisoned. It was because he saw the person who threw the torch.’
The duke flew into a rage. ‘The other musicians must have seen him, too. They’re deceiving me!’
Alips felt powerless to calm him, but she had to try. ‘You don’t know that. You can’t condemn them!’
But the duke wouldn’t be calmed. He dashed out of the hall, threatening all kinds of horrible punishments for the musicians.
The duke and his squire, who’d been waiting outside the palace, rode to the rue Saint-Martin, urging their horses at full speed through the crowds. People stared at Louis, resplendent in a gold-trimmed crimson doublet, silver hose, and a beaver hat with a large peacock feather. The stares were not friendly.
Louis knew where to find the musicians. He strode through the tavern to the table where Denisot the trumpeter sat with Thibault the piper and Philippot the bagpipe-player. ‘Who threw the torch from your balcony?’ he shouted.
They knew what he was talking about, and they were terrified.
‘None of us had anything to do with it, Monseigneur,’ said Denisot in a voice so shaky and thin, the duke could hardly hear him.
Louis slapped his hand on the table. ‘Don’t play innocent with me. I will know who threw the torch!’
‘Bernart le Brun probably knew,’ Denisot said. ‘But he’s dead.’
Louis sank down onto the bench at the table, whereupon Thibault and Philippot jumped up and started to leave. Louis shouted, ‘Stop!’ and they sat back down again. All three musicians shook with fear. The duke could have them all arrested and beheaded, no matter how much they protested their innocence, no matter that he had known them all for a long time and had no reason to think they had committed such a horrible crime. But the duke did something none of them could have anticipated: he put his head down on the table and began to cry.
The musicians were stunned. They knew he was arrogant and vain, they knew he consorted with magicians and sorcerers, they knew he imposed horrific taxes on the people to finance his appetite for riches and women. But they had never seen his other side: This great prince was capable of great suffering.
All the other patrons of the tavern turned to look at the richly costumed duke, who was emitting great sobs that shook the table. No one dared try to comfort him. When Louis finally raised his head, the tavern was empty.
THIRTY-EIGHT
A ruler who wants to win the hearts of his subjects must be gentle and kind to them.
Christine de Pizan, Le Livre des Trois Vertus, 1405
‘I’m going to take Loyse to the queen,’ Christine told her mother.
Francesca looked at Loyse, who was sitting quietly by the fireplace, and smiled. ‘The queen will love her,’ she said.
There was a knock at the door, and when Christine went to answer it, she found Marion, come to take Klara to the lions’ stockade.
Then Michel appeared, rubbing his hands together nervously.
He’s going to tell me he’s worried about Alips, Christine thought. But before he could do that, he saw Marion’s gold belt. ‘Shameful,’ he said.
‘Call off your monk friend,’ Marion said.
Christine took them into the kitchen. The older children were at school, and Lisabetta, Loyse, and Klara were watching Georgette make dough for a tart, instructed by Francesca. When Klara saw Michel, she went to Francesca and asked politely whether she could chop the onions.
‘This isn’t an onion tart,’ Georgette said. ‘Do you want to peel some garlic?’
Klara turned up her nose, but she didn’t object.
‘That young woman has changed since she’s been here,’ Michel said.
‘It seems that way,’ Francesca said.
Christine looked at Klara and wondered whether it was really true. Klara did seem less angry, even with the children. But Christine couldn’t forget that she might be in communication with her brother. She didn’t trust the girl.
‘I’m going to take Loyse to the queen,’ Christine said.
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ Michel said.
‘I think it’s a fine idea,’ Marion said. ‘When do we go, Lady Christine?’
‘I didn’t say I was taking you. But you and Michel can help. You have to tell her what we’re doing. I can communicate with her a little, but not that much.’
‘She’ll understand about the queen,’ Michel said. He went to Loyse and made some signs.
‘You promised you’d take me, too,’ Klara said.
‘You can come as far as the palace courtyard.’
Klara flounced up the stairs. Soon she came back down, carrying her best gown. She handed it to Loyse.
They made a strange procession as they marched toward the palace. A group of street urchins trailed along behind them, making faces and mocking them. Several old women with market baskets shied away from Marion, but others smiled when they saw Michel.
‘It’s supposed to be good luck to meet a Benedictine monk in the morning,’ Christine said to Klara.
‘Do you believe that?’ Klara asked.
‘I don’t,’ Marion said.
At the entrance to the queen’s residence, Simon stared at Loyse. ‘That looks like the girl who takes care of the lions.’
‘It is. Pretty, isn’t she?’ Christine said.
‘It can’t be! That girl is demented.’
‘She’s not demented. She’s deaf.’
Simon put his hand to his head. ‘To think she’s been living with the lions.’ He put his arm around Renaut. ‘Do you know who this is?’
Renaut shook his head.
‘You can tell him later,’ Christine said. ‘Loyse and I are going to the queen.’
Klara was staring at Renaut with a puzzled look on her face. Marion took her arm and led her away. Michel followed. Out in the street he said to Marion, ‘You might get to meet the queen yourself if you’d put on some respectable clothes.’
‘Mind your own business, teste de boeuf,’ Marion said as she marched down the street, dragging Klara with her.
Christine and Loyse walked slowly through the great gallery. The girl ran her hands over the heads of carved wooden lions on arms of chairs standing against the walls, and paused to admire a tapestry where lions, bears, dragons, and a unicorn stood on a carpet of flowers. The tapestry swayed in a breeze that came into the gallery through an open door, and she put her hands out, as though she feared it might come tumbling down. Christine pointed to the heavy metal hooks that attached the tapestry to the moldings under the ceiling, and Loyse nodded to show she understood. The sergeants-at-arms stood silently at their posts, smiling to each other. Some of them looked as though they knew who Loyse was, and Christine suspected that Marion had been talking to them.
When they reached the queen’s chambers, they paused at the door and saw that the queen was attended by several of her ladies-in-waiting and the Duchess of Burgundy. The duchess frowned when she saw them and s
tepped forward to ward them off. ‘The queen doesn’t want to see you,’ she said.
The queen rose and stamped her foot. ‘Let them come to me.’
‘But, Madame, you must not let these people invade your privacy. It is not befitting for a queen,’ the duchess said.
‘I shall see them! Now!’
The duchess waved to the ladies-in-waiting, who cowered behind her. ‘Leave us,’ she commanded, and they all crept out of the room. Then she turned to the queen and said, ‘I am in command here, now that the king is ill.’
The queen sank back on her pillows with an air of hopelessness. Suddenly her greyhound bounded up to the duchess, nearly knocking her off her feet. She let out a little scream and tried to swat the dog away. Christine looked around, expecting to find Alips laughing from the other side of the room. But Alips wasn’t there.
The queen smothered a smile, put out her arm, and grabbed the dog’s collar. The duchess called for her attendant and left, grumbling about all the improper things going on in the queen’s chambers. Before she went out the door, she turned and said to the queen, ‘Be assured, I shall speak to my husband about this.’
Christine approached the day bed and knelt. ‘I’ve brought the deaf girl, Madame.’
‘Let her come to me.’
Christine went to Loyse, took her by the shoulders, guided her to the queen, and indicated that she should kneel. Isabeau looked at the girl, smiled, and said to Christine, ‘You have not told me that she is beautiful.’ She touched Loyse’s arm, motioned for her to rise, and patted the bed to show that she should sit beside her. She made several hand gestures that Loyse seemed to understand. ‘This I do with Collette,’ she said.
Christine moved away, to the corner of the room where Gracieuse played her lute and sang a song praising the queen for her kindness to everyone. Collette sat looking at her and smiling, as though she could hear. The fools, Jeannine and Guillaume, locked arms and swayed in time to the music. Jeannine’s mother looked at the floor.
The queen beckoned to Collette. Soon the two deaf girls were sitting on the day bed with the queen, making gestures to each other. The queen seemed to understand. She made some gestures of her own, and they all smiled.
