Beloved Enemy (23 page)

Eleanor, flushing with pleasure, immediately forgot her worn and bedraggled appearance. Louis, who did not understand the
langue d’oc
dialect, glanced uneasily from Raymond to herself, as if he could not quite believe this comely figure was his wife’s uncle. Even Eleanor, despite his resemblance to her grandfather, found it hard to realize this man was a close relative only eight years older than herself.

After sending her an amused look that seemed to imply he knew exactly what she was thinking, Raymond ordered that the royal party be properly mounted for the ride into Antioch. Thereafter he concentrated all his attention on King Louis.

When they approached the walled city of Antioch, Eleanor could see a crowd of people waiting to meet them. It was a beautiful day, the sun a golden orb in a sky of such blinding blue that it hurt her eyes. The clear air was fragrant with the scent of orange blossoms. She caught glimpses of lush, green foliage, orchards heavy with golden fruit, a wide river filled with ships.

Massive gates swung open. Eager citizens and sumptuously robed clergymen cheered their entry. Inside the city, Eleanor caught her breath. Terraced gardens rose steeply against the hillside; graceful palaces revealed a glint of pink and yellow flower beds, white marble fountains, and tiled pools. The ruins of ancient Greek and Roman temples marched side by side with the soaring spires of Christian churches and the graceful minarets of Moslem mosques. On the streets she was intrigued to see Arab merchants in snowy turbans mingling freely with Christian traders. With its relaxed and easy atmosphere the city reminded Eleanor of Bordeaux, and she responded at once to its charm.

When she reached the palace and saw the well-appointed chambers that had been furnished for her ladies and herself she broke down and wept. After the harsh conditions of the past year she could hardly believe the attentive servants, silken tunics, gossasmer gowns, woven cloaks, mirrors set in carved ivory, silver basins, and perfumed soap. There had been no opportunity to bathe since leaving Constantinople, and Eleanor and her ladies spent hours in the huge wooden tubs washing each other’s hair while attendant women poured steamy water, scented with rose petals, over them.

They had barely put their clothes back on when a trio of fat, dark-skinned eunuchs appeared to massage them. Eleanor’s women were genuinely shocked.

“I’ve never heard of such people,” said one of the ladies. “Nor have I ever been touched by any male other than my husband.”

Even Eleanor was uncomfortable at the thought but prepared to go through with it.

“Must we remove our clothes?” she asked.

One of the eunuchs bowed and nodded. He pointed to the bed and held out a long white linen sheet.

“How do we know they are really—well—I mean—no longer men?” whispered another lady.

“Don’t be foolish. Of course they aren’t.”

“Wouldn’t we be committing some kind of sin?” asked the first.

Determined to appear far more nonchalant than she felt, Eleanor removed her clothes, folded the sheet around her and under the round-eyed gaze of her women lay face down on the bed.

The eunuch unfolded the sheet. When his strong but supple fingers kneaded her flesh with jasmine-scented oil, Eleanor immediately relaxed. His impersonal, almost indifferent touch lacked any carnal significance. He would have massaged a cow in much the same manner. In truth, his handling of her body reminded her of Louis. There was no affection, no tenderness, no desire. Louis was just like a eunuch. It would have been funny if it were not so tragic.

After doing little more than sleeping and eating for almost three days, Eleanor felt almost restored to her normal self. Certainly she looked better than when she had arrived, she decided, critically examining herself in one of the mirrors. The peach bloom had returned to her cheeks; her hair looked as if the sun were shining through it, and her hazel eyes had begun to sparkle with their usual brilliance. Although still thin, her body no longer looked like that of a fasting anchorite.

During this time Eleanor barely saw either Raymond or Louis, who was separately housed with his entourage in the prince’s own palace. When she emerged from her chamber, refreshed and eager for activity, dressed in a sea green gown covered with a gold-embroidered tunic, she found herself presented with a variety of entertainment.

There was hawking and hunting, sumptuous feasts which included exotic fruits Eleanor had never heard of before: blood red pomegranates, dates, purple figs, and a long yellow fruit called apples of paradise. Instead of trenchers of bread everything was served on gold plates, accompanied by a heady, sweet wine native to the region.

Eleanor learned that Louis and his men had been provided not only with new clothes, but weapons and horses as well. As a result she assumed he was in better spirits, particularly now that the rigors of the exhausting journey were over. Hopefully, their endless bickering also would cease.

On the evening of her fourth day in Antioch, Eleanor and Louis attended a feast in the great hall of Raymond’s palace, held, he said, in honor of his illustrious guests.

“My uncle is wondrously generous,” Eleanor told Louis. “He has not forgotten his Aquitainian hospitality.”

The Franks were being entertained by troubadours, jugglers, and a band of sinuous Saracen dancers, from whom Louis modestly averted his eyes.

“Generosity with a purpose behind it.”

“What purpose?” Eleanor’s spirits continued to revive at the sounds of gaiety and laughter that reminded her of her grandfather’s court at Poitiers.

“Raymond wants me to postpone going to Jerusalem. He claims to be in a precarious position with the Turks. Should they attack Antioch with all their forces, he tells me, the city would fall, just as Edessa did.”

“You knew that before we came, Louis. It is one of the reasons
why
we came.”

Louis speared a slice of game with his knife and eyed it suspiciously. “He believes he can forestall the infidel by capturing the Turkish city of Aleppo.”

Eleanor nodded. “What a clever strategy.”

“Clever?”

“Of course. The Turks’ defeat at Aleppo would not only safeguard the principality of Antioch as well as other Christian states but also protect the road leading to Jerusalem.”

“Your uncle has been pleading his cause, I see,” Louis said with an accusing look. “That is exactly his argument.”

“Indeed, Raymond has told me nothing of his plans, I assure you,” Eleanor said. “It is the only course that makes sense. Surely you can see that?”

“Can I? By my faith, just because he has re-equipped us with horses and arms he thinks obligation must persuade me. It is God’s will I follow, not Raymond of Antioch’s.”

“I was under the impression that you were following God’s will when you came here to fight the infidel.”

Louis glared at her, a hostile look that made her want to shake him. Sweet St. Radegonde, they were at it again, like two hounds snapping at each other, just as they had been during the past year. There was a time, not too long ago, when Louis had been her willing slave, listened to her views, and sometimes even followed her counsel. Eleanor did not doubt that Louis still adored her, but his recent losses had made him far more resistant than he had been in Paris.

There was a loud clapping and Eleanor saw that the dancers were now replaced by two jongleurs, one a dark-skinned Moor in Moorish dress, the other a flaxen-haired man dressed in the Provençal fashion.

Louis’s face turned crimson. Crossing himself, he hissed through his teeth.

“Impious! A Moslem and a Christian singing together! He harbors the enemy in his own court.” Louis turned his back when the two men began to play and sing a duet.

Eleanor, who had seen this pairing before at her grandfather’s court, thought it quite natural. She was tempted to tell Louis about the unusual group of jongleurs she had once witnessed at her father’s court in Bordeaux. Some had been Moors, others Christian, and one a Jew. Two of the Moors had been women who sang profane songs and danced, to the delight of everyone present. Jongleurs, whatever their race, were not warriors but followers of the
gai saber,
above battles, assaults and sieges. All of this would be lost on Louis, however. She could tell by the outraged, stubborn expression on his face.

It was exactly the same expression Eleanor had encountered when he insisted on going to Poitou alone. It meant Louis had made his decision and, no matter how illogical it might be, nothing would move him. A chill of foreboding pricked Eleanor. Should she warn Raymond?

Before she could act, the matter was taken out of her hands.

Eleanor spent the following day with Raymond’s wife, Constance, in a lovely garden shaded by palm trees. The mosaic-tiled courtyard was strewn with rugs and cushions; low tables held silver bowls of an orange-colored fruit called apricots cooling in snow brought down from the mountains.

Into the midst of this tranquillity strode her uncle. One look at his wrathful face told Eleanor that what she feared had come to pass.

“Louis has refused to help you?”

“Yes. Constance, my dear, I would speak with my niece alone. Do you take your ladies elsewhere.”

When his wife and her women had gracefully retreated to another corner of the garden, Raymond angrily pulled up several cushions and seated himself in front of her.

“I told Louis for the tenth time that the Moslems were terrified of the French army and now was the time to attack to ensure an easy victory. Your husband said he had given the matter considerable thought but must refuse. In all conscience he could not fight until he had expiated his sins against God and Holy Church by completing his pilgrimage to the sepulcher of Christ. Once he has received forgiveness he will do battle against the infidel. Can this possibly be true?”

“Indeed, I feared that might be his answer,” Eleanor replied with a vexatious sigh. “I cannot tell you how sorry I am. But the man is such a pious fool that—” she threw up her hands. “Sometimes I don’t know how I have endured him all these years.”

Raymond’s sea blue eyes searched her face. “Your unfortunate situation is all too clear to me, Niece. Nevertheless, it is rumored that you have always had great influence over your husband.”

Eleanor shrugged. “In the past that has certainly been so. During our pilgrimage here, however, his affection for me has been sorely tried. We have had many bitter quarrels.”

“I beg you now to use whatever influence you have left to plead my case before your husband. He
must
help us. Our very survival here in Antioch is at stake.”

There was no mistaking the agitation in his voice.

Impulsively, Eleanor reached out and grasped his hand. “Of course. I’ll do all I can.”

Raymond gave her a slow warm smile filled with gratitude. Lifting her hand to his lips he pressed upon her palm a burning kiss that reverberated throughout her whole body. Her heart jumped; she must convince Louis to put off his pilgrimage and aid her uncle against the Turks.

That night, for the first time, Eleanor visited Louis in his private quarters at Raymond’s palace. She found him at prayer in the small oratory adjoining his chamber.

“This is a pleasant surprise, Wife,” he said upon completing his orisons. “But I hope you have not come on your uncle’s behalf.”

Surprised, for Louis was usually not so discerning, she seated herself upon one of the richly embroidered stools scattered about the chamber. “And if I have? I only ask that you hear me out. Alone.” She glanced significantly at the equerries milling about.

After Louis dismissed the equerries, Eleanor motioned him to pull up a stool. “Raymond’s scheme has much to recommend it. He has ruled as prince in Antioch for thirteen years and knows the ways of the infidel. Why do you refuse to join him in an attack on Aleppo, when it would speed your own plans?”

“I explained to him that I cannot undertake any campaign until I have fulfilled the vow I made at the start of this pilgrimage: to worship at the shrine of Our Lord. When I have completed that promise then I may take up arms and—and need no longer be celibate.” He lowered his eyes. “But you already know this.”

“What I know is that you have taken leave of your senses. The entire point of this venture was to recapture Edessa and protect Jerusalem. The opportunity to accomplish this is at hand and yet you refuse!”

Louis flushed. “I see that your uncle’s silver tongue has bewitched you. Well, he has cast no unholy spells over me or my barons. We have no use for this—this corrupt, pagan potentate who dares to call himself a Christian!”

Eleanor jumped to her feet. “Dares to calls himself a Christian? After he has showered you and your men with gifts? Extended his hospitality to all crusaders in need? St. Peter’s is the most beautiful Christian church I’ve ever seen. You said yourself, the singing of the monks was like a heavenly choir.”

“Never mind what I said.” Louis’s lips twitched in irritation. “I am repelled by what I find here. Repelled! Indeed, Antioch does not appear to me to be in any danger whatsoever. It is a loose-living city devoted entirely to pleasure. A very Sodom of iniquity. Inside the palace Raymond himself dons slippers and loose-fitting robes like some infidel sultan. The Europeans here wear turbans, and sport beards and flowing garb like the Moslems. One can hardly distinguish between them!”

“Holy St. Radegonde, what has that to do with—”

But Louis’s stream of invective would not be quenched. “Were you aware that there are as many mosques in the city as there are Christian churches? That some Christians have even intermarried with the Saracens?” His eyes were almost popping from his head. “Moslems and Christians live side by side in apparent friendship and even eat together at the palace! You saw that for yourself the other night, with the two jongleurs.”

“My grandfather entertained many Moslem troubadours from Moorish Spain who visited his court. They too sang with Christian minstrels. What of it?”

“What of it?” For a moment Louis was nonplussed. “Well! But then nothing about your family would surprise me. Absolutely nothing! One need look no further than his sire to see where Raymond has picked up his heretical tendencies.”