The Stolen Queen (7 page)

‘Come along,' said Agnes, in a voice that I knew meant no argument. I trailed after her along the passage, the fur mantle bunched around me. ‘Now we can have a lovely game.' Her voice was high and artificial, as though I was a strange child she didn't much like.

I thought that everyone at Lusignan had run mad that day. Lord Hugh in the wardrobe and my father babbling about Duke Arthur and now Agnes, who disapproved of any game where I didn't sit still, capering about on the lawn with a ball.

The low January sun was captured within the garden walls and dutifully chasing Agnes's throws I grew warm and dropped the new mantle on the ground. I threw the ball back and the bells jingled as she caught it. She tossed it straight up as high as she could as I hovered underneath, catching it and hurling it higher again. I stopped minding the childishness and thought only of the spinning colours against the blue sky. We were both laughing now. It felt so good to play together again in the air, and for once Agnes wasn't telling me not to get dirty. Higher and higher the ball flew, until I threw it so hard I thought it must have got stuck on the chapel roof. We craned our necks at the gutter, until a voice spoke behind me.

‘Is this yours, Lady Isabelle?'

The man holding my ball spoke French, but with an odd accent, not the clear, light tempo of the langue d'oc. He was short, hardly taller than Agnes, and his face was sallow and thin, though I could see a paunchy belly poking through his stained travel cloak. He wore riding gloves and a heavy fur cape, which he had pulled about him, though it was noon and really quite warm.

‘Where are the guards?' Agnes was anxious.

‘Excuse me, madame. I am a guest of the Count of Angouleme. I assumed this must be his charming daughter.' He bowed, and I curtseyed back diffidently.

‘Ask the gentleman if he would like to join our game,' prompted Agnes.

I stared at her, but her face was urgent, her eyes wide and expectant, so I held out my hands for a throw. And we carried on like that for a little while, Agnes and the gentleman and I, though Agnes's laughter no longer sounded real and her tread had grown lumbering. When the gentleman dropped the ball and bent to the ground I saw a bald spot shining with grease in the middle of his muddy hair. Perhaps he was a priest.

‘What other games do you care for, sir?' I asked politely. Agnes would be pleased if I showed fine manners to a priest.

‘I like to play dice.' He reached into his pocket and took out a small ivory box. ‘In fact I have a fine set here. Shall we play?'

I was sure that playing dice was sinful, like the Roman soldiers beneath the Holy Cross, but he must know better. Agnes gave me a consenting nod and the gentleman spread his fur wrap on the ground for us to sit on, pulling the wool cloak tighter around him.

‘Here sir,' I took my own discarded fur and placed it over his shoulder. ‘You will be cold.'

‘How kind you are, Lady Isabelle.' He shook the box as a cup and threw, but fur wasn't very good to play on, as the dice got tangled in the hairs and couldn't roll. We tried a few times, but it was no good, the gentleman looked foolish.

‘Perhaps we might go in, sir?' I asked gently. ‘I too am rather cold, now.'

‘Thank you, I am quite comfortable.'

There was a silence. I wondered what my mother would do. She would speak of some pleasing topic to make the guest feel comfortable. So I told the gentleman all about Othon, and how I liked falconry, and then somehow I remembered the marchpane entremets, so I began to tell about the king's visit and wonder what he would be like, and I grew rather bumptious, repeating some of the stories I had overheard in the stables, that the Lionheart's brother was going to war with the king of France, and that perhaps he would lose his lands and have to return to England, which was a horrid place full of fog and blue haired barbarians. Agnes was glaring at me, but I was carried away with the idea of myself as the gracious hostess of Lusignan, there on the lawn in my smudged gown, and I told that the English king was famous for his terrible rages, where he hurled the crockery and chewed the hangings, frothing at the mouth like a mad dog so no one dared go near him. I didn't stop until Agnes jumped to her feet muttering about dinner.

‘But we've had our dinner, Agnes. And I was just telling the gentleman—'

‘I'm sure the gentleman has heard quite enough of your prattling,' she answered grimly, grabbing me hard on my arm to haul me up.

The gentleman jumped to his feet as we stood and bowed again. ‘Thank you for our game, Lady Isabelle. And for such a delightful conversation.'

Agnes marched me silently up the staircase to my chamber, shooed away the maids and closed the door. She was not angry; she looked frightened.

‘What's the matter, Agnes? I'm sorry if I was forward. I was only trying to entertain the gentleman.'

‘Your father and Lord Hugh will be furious.'

‘Why? He was only some old priest. Why should they care? He was lucky I spoke to him at all.' Agnes sank down on the settle and wrapped her arms round me. ‘Oh, little one. I forget sometimes. Tha-that gentleman … he is to be your husband.'

‘What?' I was in shock. ‘What about Hal? You mean he's not a priest?'

‘No, Isabelle. He is the king of England.'

If I had been a lady in a poem I would have swooned away, but all I could do was goggle at her like a simpleton.

‘His Majesty wished to meet you for the first time this way. So as not to alarm you. It is an honour, Isabelle, a great honour. Your father has agreed to it.'

I recalled what I had heard in the hall, my papa saying that I would be obedient, as I was his daughter.

‘Won't Lord Hugh be angry? I don't understand.'

‘Speak softly. We could be overheard.' Her voice was very low and clear. I could feel her breath on my hair. ‘Lord Hugh will be angry. But he will be pretending, like a play. When the king leaves, we will be with him. Your mother will join us at Bordeaux in a few months' time. Everything is agreed.'

‘But I am betrothed to Hal.' We had said the words. I knew that in the law of the Church we were as good as married already.

Agnes softened her tone. ‘Well, you never cared for Hal much, did you? And think, Isabelle, you shall be a queen! I shall have to kneel to you.'

So would Hal, I thought. Queen. Queen Eleanor had followed her husband on Crusade, had she not? She had ridden through the Holy Land and watched a great battle at Mount Cadmos. Queen. I would see the sea, I would be crowned, I could have as many horses and Venetian silks as I wished.

‘What about Othon and Tomas? They have to come too.'

‘Good girl, Isabelle. Of course Othon shall come, and old Tomas too if you wish it. I will go to your father now.'

She left me and I climbed into the windowsill, looking down at the forest where I had been so happy, where I had believed I would live forever. No more sewing, I thought, no more prayers. I would be able to do exactly as I pleased, go riding and hawking every day. Queens were not scolded or told not to gobble their custard, and they certainly didn't have to endure silly ill-mannered boys. I remembered the dream I had conjured over a dish of raspberry marmalade, of my mother and I in an Eastern palace full of fountains and Hal locked up in a dungeon full of snakes, at my pleasure. I would not be sorry to leave Lusignan, not when a queen could see the whole world. So I lost myself in my imaginings as I used to do so that it was not until the next summer, when I stood before the altar of the cathedral at Bordeaux, that I thought of John, the gentleman, at all. But before we could leave, I had to act a little longer. While I remained at Lusignan, I was Hal's betrothed, the heiress of Angouleme. I had learned by now
that dissembling was easy for women. So long as we stayed silent and waited passively for men to move us like quoits, we were invisible. Only by watching could we learn what was to become of us.

CHAPTER FIVE

T
HE NEXT DAY, MY FATHER AND LORD HUGH WERE TO
swear their fealty to King John. All the magnates of the surrounding counties rode in to witness the ceremony, and I stood quietly among their ladies with Agnes and made my face as smooth as milk. After Mass, we trooped into the hall, which had been scrubbed and freshly laid with clean rushes, though the weather had turned again and fingers of icy wind clawed through the casements, tweaking at the fire and filling the room with wraiths of smoke, as though the ghosts of Lusignan ancestors were among us. Lord Hugh was wearing the serpent brooch, as usual; I wondered if Melusina had twined her way along the battlements to watch a Lusignan swear his fealty to an English king.

John looked more like a king today. He wore a gold circlet on his brow and a red velvet mantle with a huge gold chain hanging from his chest, and as he passed through the hall with his chamberlain bearing his sceptre the company sank to their knees and bowed their heads. I peeped out under my loosened
hair and watched him as he passed, swaddled in his furs. Lord Hugh and Hal walked behind him, followed by my father, and knelt as he took his seat under his royal canopy. I thought that I should have a cloth of state too, when I was queen, and hid a tiny smile. Lord Hugh and Hal kissed John's hand and gave him their homage for the Lusignan lands and the county of La Marche, declaring themselves his vassals, bound to fight for him in honour, as my father had already done for Angouleme. They were King John's men, now. The ladies withdrew while the men dined and took wine, and as they dipped manchet bread into cups of sweet liqueur and munched little almond cakes they chattered of the king, how he had put aside his English wife, Hadwise, who had given him no children, and now sought the hand of a princess of Portugal.

‘And when may we expect your marriage, Lady Isabelle?' A fat lady with a red face and a sharply pointed nose was questioning me. She was the wife of one of Lord Hugh's men and obliged to curtsey to me, though I could see she did not care for that. Her fashionably tight gown strained its laces as she reached forward to stuff in another cake. I decided I should have only pretty ladies to attend me, when I was queen.

Agnes answered for me, ‘We leave tonight for the convent at Langoiran. Until the treaty concerning Duke Arthur is agreed my lord considers it safer for the Lady Isabelle to remain there, where she may complete her education with the holy sisters.'

I didn't like the sound of that at all, but I had the sense to keep quiet.

‘And the wedding?' pressed the lady, spilling crumbs into the drooping folds of her coif. My mother would never eat so inelegantly.

‘In time. My lady is very young.'

‘Humph,' snorted the lady. ‘I had my first boy when I was twelve. Fourteen children since, and all of them living. You can't begin too early.'

‘You are blessed, madame,' I acknowledged courteously.

We were escorted back to the hall as the dessert course was served. Trestles of candied fruit, each board carried between two men, were set down, then dishes of custard flavoured with bay and vanilla, garnished with dried flowers, then the entremets of which I had boasted, a castle in sugar that was supposed to look like Lusignan, and a leopard with a cockerel between its paws that represented the two kings of France and England lying peacefully side by side. The leopard was a strange bright orange colour and the castle turrets were crooked and shaky; I could see that Lord Hugh was displeased. We stood as the dessert was carried round to polite exclamations and King John reached forward and broke the tail from the leopard and handed it to a server. The boy appeared soon after with the tail in a napkin, sweating and confused to be speaking to someone of such high rank as me.

‘His Majesty asked that this be brought to you, my lady. For Othon, his Majesty said.'

‘Thank him, Agnes,' I said airily, even as I snapped off the tip and felt the delicious sweetness dissolve on my tongue.

Eventually the ladies withdrew to the quarters that had been prepared for them, in a flurry of flouncing trains and instructions
to their maids, and the men were left to their drinking. Agnes took me to my chamber, and as evening fell, I looked out of the window, taking a last survey of the Lusignan forest. I had always liked to watch the woods at night, when the birds were silent and the leaves rustled their secrets. It made my room seem so safe and cosy knowing that the boar and wolves were running out there in the dark. I had believed that I would make my home here at Lusignan. That I too would become one of Melusina's kin, even that I would play with my own babies in the gardens where I had fought with Hal and tossed a coloured ball for a king. And now everything was to change again, and I had barely even seen my father.

‘Must we leave in the morning, Agnes?'

‘In haste, my lady. If your father's plans are to work, Lord Hugh will send men after you on the road.' I thought of Tomas telling me I would need one day to ride like a man. This was exciting.

‘Will they chase us? Shall I ride Othon?'

‘Certainly not! You will travel in a litter, as is fitting.'

She saw my disappointed face and came close to me at the casement, wrapping me in her arm as we both looked out over the treetops, deep purple in the twilight.

‘You will travel as a future queen, Isabelle. And your maman and papa will be so proud of you, I know they will.

*

‘Tell me, Lady Isabelle, did Othon approve of his dessert?' King John had brought his horse up level with the litter, walking slowly as we jerked along the road.

Lusignan was behind us, we had a few hours of dun-coloured daylight left before we reached our lodging. Lord Hugh's leave-taking had betrayed no trace of his conversation with my papa, nor of what he must now know I had learned from Agnes, except perhaps that he had been more cold and correct than in the last months when he had petted and indulged me. Hal had bid me farewell as cheerlessly as he had first greeted me, while my father had whispered as we embraced, ‘I am proud of you, Isabelle.'