Lionheart moe-4 Read online

  Ademus turned to the captain of the garrison with a beaming smile on his face.

  ‘Go and make an announcement in the city. I will escort Duke Richard and his men. There will be a celebration tonight. Open the wine cellars, and tell the women to prepare a feast.’

  Escorted by half a conroi of cavalry – and with their families, personal belongings and their share of the treasury hastily loaded on to carts in their wake – Pierre of Dax and Centulle of Bigorre were on the road to the north within the hour, leaving the city and its captors to enjoy a long night of celebration and revelry. The Duke was the centre of attention for the entire time. It was easy to see how he had won the accolade ‘Lionheart’; he had the rare ability to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies while earning the love of his friends and allies.

  Negu and I enjoyed another night of passion – this time, a more private tryst – after which she asked if she could travel with me. Her request, tempting as it was, presented me with a major dilemma.

  Despite a likely dubious past, she was a gorgeous creature, who was also intelligent and vivacious. But my mission had only just begun and no matter how attractive she was, she would become a distraction that could jeopardize what lay ahead.

  The next day, I sought advice from Father Alun and put his renowned wisdom to the test.

  ‘So, what is your advice?’

  ‘Seek permission from Sir William, but you should take her.’

  I was astonished. I thought I knew what my decision should be – that it would be unwise to be sidetracked from my mission by Negu’s intoxicating company – and was certain that Father Alun would confirm my judgement. I had only asked him in order to make a difficult decision easier; now his answer had made it much harder.

  ‘I am amazed. Why do you think I should agree?’

  ‘I like her. There is something intriguing about her – apart from her more obvious charms, of course. It is better that you have a companion you are fond of, rather than a succession of whores and opportunists. You’ll be a better man for it.’

  ‘What about you? Doesn’t the same argument apply?’

  ‘I’ve chosen celibacy. It suits me; the entanglements brought by women are not to my liking.’

  ‘Alun, I thank you for your advice, and I am grateful for your wise words. But I suppose she will have to travel with the other women, who are hardly the finest examples of either beauty or virtue.’

  ‘That is her choice. She clearly sees you as a way out of the small world that is Gascony. You can’t blame her for that. She has probably had to use the assets God has given her to get this far, and most likely with some fairly unsavoury characters. Now she has found you, and – if I may say so – you’re a much more attractive proposition.’

  I was happy to hear the compliment, and smiled at him.

  ‘No,’ said Father Alun, ‘I don’t mean that you’re a handsome and chivalrous knight. But you’re in the service of the Lionheart, and he’s a duke who may rule an empire one day! For a girl from a small village in Gascony, that’s a dream come true.’

  ‘Now I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘Take her; our allowance from Earl Harold is very generous, and we can easily afford to look after her. Besides, she may be useful if I can persuade the Duke to go where I want him to go.’

  ‘That’s the second time you’ve mentioned your little plan. Are you going to share it with me?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘You may be a wise man, but you are also an infuriating one!’

  ‘I haven’t had an answer yet, but I’m hoping to take Richard to meet an old nun.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because he’ll learn things from her that will help him fulfil his destiny.’

  That is all Father Alun would say. Once again, I had to be patient.

  7. Captain of the Guard

  Before making my final decision about Negu, I needed to ask her some questions.

  ‘Tell me about your life before the Duke’s army appeared?’

  She was very hesitant and embarrassed.

  ‘Is it important to you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  The next thing she said confirmed my admiration for her. She was not overawed, but just threw the question back at me.

  ‘You first.’

  I gave a full account of my life before arriving in Gascony, in some detail. Then it was Negu’s turn. After telling of a simple childhood in Riscle, a remote village fifty miles east of Dax, where her parents toiled in the fields from dawn until dusk, her eyes began to fill with tears when she described reaching the age of thirteen.

  ‘The priest of Aire-sur-l’Adour, a large village near to my home, was a clever man and ran classes for children in the district. Most of them were boys, but he did teach a few girls – if they were very clever, or very pretty.’

  ‘Which category did you fall into?’

  ‘Both, of course! Anyway, I was lucky; he taught me to read Euskara and how to speak Occitan. But there was a price to pay. I had to suck his cock every day, and a few months later he demanded that I had sex with him once a week. I think he was doing the same with the other girls, but nothing was ever said. He was very careful and made sure I didn’t get pregnant.’

  I could see that she was trembling as she told her story.

  ‘Don’t be ashamed; you had no choice.’

  ‘I did have a choice. But I decided to keep going to his lessons; I didn’t want to end up working the fields like my parents…’ Then she hesitated and started to sob.

  ‘It’s enough,’ I reassured her. ‘You don’t have to tell me any more.’

  ‘I do… I’ve never told anyone before, so I have to finish. It’s my confession.’

  I held her in my arms, and she put her head on my shoulder.

  ‘Ranulf, what I’m about to tell you may change everything. But please try to understand, and forgive me.’

  ‘It’s not my place to forgive you, Negu; you have done nothing wrong in my eyes—’

  ‘Except behave like a harlot. In fact, I am a harlot.’

  The tears cascaded down her face, and her chest heaved in great spasms of anguish.

  ‘The truth is too awful, but I must tell you. The priest – his name was Beti, Euskara for “Peter” – was quite old. Although I hated what he did at first, after a while I began to like it. He was kind and gentle, and I became very fond of him. I made him stop doing it to the other girls and, well, I suppose we became lovers.’

  She then pulled away to see my reaction.

  I smiled reassuringly. ‘Well, he took advantage of you and stole your innocence. One day he will pay for that – perhaps not in this life, but certainly in the eyes of God. You had to make a choice; it was your decision. You still haven’t done anything wrong.’

  ‘Ranulf, you are so wise and kind. I thought you would be angry.’

  ‘No, not angry; you did what you had to do. So, now you’ve told me. Don’t be too upset. It’s over. And it could have been worse – he could have been cruel to you.’

  ‘I know, at least he wasn’t cruel. But he should never have been a priest. Anyway, when I was fifteen, he managed to find me work in the palace kitchens at Dax and I didn’t see him very often. I suppose he found another girl. That is where I met Raymond, the son of Viscount Pierre. I was able to catch his eye; he was handsome, and we became lovers. He took good care of me – he had other girls, but I was his favourite. He wasn’t so gentle in bed with me, but he was a lot younger, and I enjoyed it even more than with Beti. So, there you have it: Negu, the whore of Dax!’

  ‘Hardly a whore; I would wager that most of the ladies of Viscount Pierre’s court will have had many more lovers than you.’

  ‘But is it not a sin to enjoy sex so much?’

  I laughed out loud.

  ‘Only in the eyes of the Church! And they’re all hypocrites. Priests like Beti know the truth of it. You’re just like everyone else. All the girls I’ve known – rich and poor, young and ol
d – like sex. Usually as often as possible.’

  At this, her face broke into a smile.

  I held her as tightly as I could to reassure her.

  ‘So, how did you find your way into Duke Richard’s tent?’

  She hesitated again. But this time she looked at me mischievously, rather than with embarrassment.

  ‘I was sent as an infiltrator into your camp. Viscount Pierre knew that his son was bedding me and asked to see me. He told me to use my charms to get myself noticed by the Duke, or one of his captains, and send information back into the city. I couldn’t refuse; they would have thrown me on to the street. So, when your army approached, I left the city and waited at the thermal springs at St Paul de Dax. It wasn’t difficult to get myself noticed.’

  I was far from annoyed – on the contrary, I admired her fortitude. But I decided to tease her a little.

  ‘This is quite a confession. Are there any more sins to tell me about?’

  ‘Ranulf, I am sorry. You’re angry; I suppose you’re not going to take me with you now.’

  I tried to keep a straight face.

  ‘Well, not if you’re going to spy on me…’

  ‘I only sent one message to the Viscount, to tell him how many men and siege engines you had. But he could count those for himself. Then, when I met you, I didn’t send any more—’

  I kissed her fervently and stopped teasing her.

  ‘Of course I’ll take you with me. I think you’re a treasure, and I’m so lucky to have found you.’

  The tears started again, but this time they were tears of elation. When we made love, it was tender and passionate. I realized I was truly infatuated with her.

  William Marshal readily agreed to my request for Negu to join me on our campaign, remarking that she was a cut above the rest of the girls in the baggage train. Godric bought a good horse for her, and a mule to carry her belongings. She avoided the young whores and found some companions among the older women of the camp.

  Dax had been dealt with to the Duke’s satisfaction, and so we moved on to Bayonne, where another viscount was brought to heel. We stopped our advance in the Cize Valley, in Lower Navarre. It was called the ‘Gateway to Iberia’, leading to the lands of the Duke’s ally, Alfonso II, King of Aragon.

  With the capitulation of the Cize Valley, in the foothills of the snow-covered Pyrenees, Aquitaine was once again under King Henry’s control. Duke Richard’s mission was now at an end. He paid off his Brabançons and sent them on their way back to the Low Countries. His five lieutenants also returned to their homes, leaving just the Duke’s small retinue of stewards and servants, and his own conroi of personal guards.

  After a few days of hunting in the mountains, he decided that he too should head north to his home in Poitiers, which we reached at the beginning of February 1177. Sadly for Richard, his mother, Eleanor, was not there. For the previous four years she had been held in Winchester, and various other English castles, at the King’s pleasure, after she had connived in a plot against him by her son – and Richard’s elder brother – Henry. Although she was hardly incarcerated in an oubliette, she had to stay within the confines of any castle where she was kept, and communication with the outside world was prohibited.

  I had always found royal politics and intrigue a mystery. The protagonists had so much power and wealth, but it never seemed enough; sons fought fathers, brothers fought brothers, mothers fought husbands. Even more oddly, family members who once doted on one another often became mortal enemies and then were soon reconciled to their familial bonds. So it was with the Plantagenets – the ‘Devil’s Brood’, as they were called.

  The Duke’s garrison in Poitiers was very comfortable, and we made ourselves at home. But within days, we heard news that made Duke Richard’s blood boil. His Brabançon mercenaries had made their way home through the Limousin, where they had caused mayhem under the leadership of William le Clerc, one of the thugs Richard used when he faced a particularly stubborn opponent.

  So awful had been the killing and pillaging perpetrated by the Brabançons that the local nobles and citizenry had created a huge people’s militia to put a stop to them. Under the leadership of Isambert, Abbot of St Martial, and beneath a cross brought back from Jerusalem, an ‘Army of Peace’ sallied forth. It caught up with the mercenaries at Malemort, near Brive, and put the entire rabble to the sword, including William le Clerc, whose body was dragged through the streets until it was no more than a bloody trail of flesh and bone.

  Although the incident was over, and the wrongdoing had been punished, word had already reached the King. Much of the good work Duke Richard had done in Aquitaine had been undone in the Limousin, another part of his father’s empire which he found difficult to control. Not only that: the Duke had lost the bulk of his army, most of his siege engineers and all of their materiel.

  Father Alun, Godric and I thought it a blessing in disguise; we believed the Duke was well rid of his band of cut-throats. Perhaps most significantly, Duke Richard would now have to travel to Caen to face an angry King Henry, not a rendezvous anyone would relish.

  The Duke went hunting for several days, presumably to find time to gather his thoughts. When he returned, he summoned Father Alun and myself to see him in the Great Hall of Eleanor’s elegant palace at Poitiers. Ostensibly, he was in good humour and put on a brave face when he spoke to me.

  ‘I have to go to see the King and do penance for the actions of le Clerc and his bully boys in the Limousin.’

  ‘Yes, my Lord, I’ve heard the news. If I may say so, sire, I would not regret their passing too much. It gives you a chance to build a new army, an army of professionals, loyal to you and you alone.’

  ‘Yes, yes, but I fear my father will put me in limbo for a while and deny me the money to create a new force. And now that my mother is under house arrest, I can’t get the funds from her either.’

  Father Alun was suddenly animated by what he was hearing.

  ‘My Lord, that being so, may I make a suggestion?’

  ‘Please do.’

  ‘After you have knelt before your father, would you consider kneeling at the feet of another to whom it would be prudent to genuflect?’

  ‘Who else is there? Louis of France is our sworn enemy, and Frederick Barbarossa of the Germans is hardly a close ally. That leaves Pope Alexander… and he’s no friend either, after my father’s acknowledgement of his part in the death of Thomas Becket.’

  ‘Sire, with respect to all those men, I am referring to a woman – someone who, I would humbly suggest, is at least their equal.’

  I suddenly realized that Father Alun was at last using the gambit he had mentioned in Gascony.

  The Duke looked perplexed.

  ‘Is she a queen? Other than my mother, there is no woman in Europe who could be seen as equal to a pope or an emperor.’

  ‘Except one, my Lord.’

  ‘Name her, man!’

  ‘Hildegard, Abbess of Rupertsberg in Bingen, on the Rhine.’

  ‘A nun! Are you serious, Father?’

  ‘I am, sire. She is a living saint, and the wisest creature in Europe – man or woman.’

  ‘I’ve never heard of her! The Rhine is at the edge of the world. Why would I want to go there?’

  ‘To benefit from her wisdom, my Lord.’

  ‘Because I don’t have enough of my own, I suppose?’

  ‘Indeed, that is correct, Duke.’

  On hearing Father Alun’s undaunted response, I smiled inwardly.

  ‘You’re a madman, and rude to your lord.’

  ‘Perhaps a little, sire. But my task – a role that you accepted when I was offered to you by Earl Harold – is to counsel you. That is what I am doing.’

  Like a sage, Father Alun had a way with words; I could see Duke Richard’s mood become more acquiescent.

  ‘Do you fear for my soul, Father?’

  ‘Not yet, my Lord, there is plenty of time for redemption. It is more your temporal future that con
cerns me.’

  ‘So, you think I lack wisdom. And this nun is going to make me prudent?’

  ‘Not immediately, sire, but I hope she will inspire you.’

  ‘To do what?’

  ‘Wisdom is about making decisions, my Lord. Hildegard will guide you towards a path that will help you discover your destiny.’

  ‘So, she is a seer?’

  ‘She is old and clever, like Earl Harold. He said that you are destined to be a great leader and a great king, because of your heritage and because of the gifts you have been given. But you could lose your way. Ranulf and I are here to make sure that you don’t.’

  ‘I see. Does that mean that I am to do your bidding? Because if that’s what you’re saying, you can go back to England.’

  ‘No, sire, all that we ask is that you listen. Then you can make your own decisions.’

  ‘Very well, then, I have listened. We leave for Caen in two days. I’ll hear no more talk of the old nun until then.’

  Father Alun did not appear to be disappointed. The first move in his gambit had prepared the ground well – by astutely playing to the Duke’s considerable ego – and I was intrigued to know how and when he would make his next move.

  The Lionheart then turned to me.

  ‘Ranulf, the Captain of my personal conroi, Ademar, is almost forty years old, and I promised him that our campaign in Aquitaine would be his last. He wants to take his pension and retire. I envy him. He has a house by the sea at Les Sables d’Olonne, a young wife and a brood of children. He wants to enjoy them in peace and quiet – a privilege I suspect I will never have.’

  ‘But you will have others, my Lord—’

  ‘Now you sound like Father Alun! Anyway, I would like you to become my Captain. Will you accept?’