strode toward his mother, paying no heed to the others in the solar.
“You’ll not believe what that damned fool has done, Maman! He fled from Chinon Castle and has taken refuge at the French court!”
Eleanor rose so swiftly that her chair toppled over into the floor rushes. One glance toward her attendants was all it took; rising, they quickly departed the chamber. So did the musician. It never occurred to Maud that the queen’s dismissal applied to her, too, and even if it had, she’d not have stirred from the window-seat. Nothing short of a direct command would have sufficed, given Richard’s remarkable revelation about Hal. God help him, what had that reckless lad done now? And why was Richard so distraught over his brother’s disgrace? From what she’d observed, there was little love lost between them.
“How do you know this, Richard?”
“He was with me when the message came from…Well, better we mention no names.” Raoul gazed coolly in Maud’s direction, seeing her not as his niece’s friend but as the king’s cousin. “It is true. Hal has bolted and the cat is amongst the pigeons for certes.” Spotting a flagon and cups, he moved to the table and began to pour for them, saying, “Wine will not make the news go down any easier, but it cannot hurt.” Glancing over his shoulder, he beckoned his messenger to come forward. “Tell the queen what you told us.”
The man removed his hat with a flourish, then knelt before Eleanor. “My lord dared not commit words to parchment, Madame, lest it fall into the wrong hands. But Lord Raoul knows his identity, as do you, my lady. He bade me come straightaway with the news of the events at Chinon. Your son, the young king, did indeed take flight. When King Henry learned of it, he rode after him in all haste. But the young king made great speed, covered more than a hundred miles in less than a day and night. And he had planned ahead, for fresh horses were awaiting him at Alencon. King Henry continued on, though, as far as Argentan. But he’d gained no ground, and at Argentan, he was told that Lord Hal had suddenly veered east. He gave up the chase, then, knowing further pursuit was futile, and the young king soon reached safety in the lands of the French king’s brother, the Count of Dreux.”
“Hell and Furies!” Eleanor had begun to pace, her skirts swirling about her ankles. “What was he thinking?”
“When does he ever think?” Richard straddled a chair and accepted a wine cup from Raoul. “If he were to sell his brain, he could claim it had never been used.”
Eleanor did not seem to be listening. Reaching the hearth, she stopped suddenly. “Morel! Jesu, I ought to have seen this coming.” Seeing that they did not understand, she said, “He did not take his new stallion, left him behind with me at Limoges. He did not want to risk losing him, for he was planning his escape as early as that.”
The messenger still knelt and Raoul reached out, helped the man to his feet. “You’ve done well, will be rewarded for your service. Go down to the great hall and get a meal, then tell the steward to find you a bed.” As the man withdrew, moving with the stiffness of one who’d spent many hours in the saddle, Raoul brought a wine cup over to Eleanor. Rather pointedly, he did not offer any to Maud, but she did not notice the snub. She was dismayed by Hal’s folly, but troubled, too, by the implications of this mystery messenger. Raoul de Faye had paid one of Henry’s lords or knights to spy upon him, and Eleanor had known about it-and approved.
Eleanor looked at her wine cup, seemed about to drink, then set it down. “How did Hal manage to get away? It could not have been easy, not with Harry watching him like a hungry hawk.”
“To give the lad credit where due, he was right clever about it. He got Harry to drop his guard by seeking his forgiveness, then feigned a toothache to be able to see an apothecary, and once he’d been given a sleeping draught, he put it in his father’s wine.” Raoul laughed, but Eleanor did not.
“Does it matter how he did it?” Richard sounded impatient. “What matters is that he has put us entre la espada y la pared. ” This was another Spanish expression he’d picked up from the young King of Aragon, one he obligingly translated for them now, saying it meant “between the sword and the wall.”
Eleanor seemed lost in her own thoughts and did not respond. Stepping forward, Raoul put his hand on her arm. “The lad is right. Hal’s flight was a signed confession of his guilt and confirmed all of Harry’s suspicions of a conspiracy with the French. This means we no longer have time as our ally, Eleanor. Hal has flushed our quarry and whether we are ready or not, the hunt is on.”
Eleanor frowned. “I am well aware of that, Uncle!”
“My God…” Maud’s whispered words seemed to echo in the sudden silence. She was staring at Eleanor in disbelief. “You are conspiring against Harry?”
Eleanor stiffened, for she’d not expected Maud to sound so horrified. “Leave us, Uncle,” she said, adding, “You, too, Richard,” when her son did not move. He did not look happy about it, but he followed Raoul from the solar.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Maud rose and crossed the chamber, not stopping until she was close enough to look into Eleanor’s eyes. “Is it really true, then? You are part of this plot?”
Eleanor could have said that she had not fully committed herself, for it was technically true, but that was a sophistry. The conspiracy might still be in its initial stages, but she’d known since Limoges that there’d be no turning back. “Yes,” she said, resisting the impulse to say more. She’d not have thought that she’d need to explain herself, not to Maud, but the other woman was regarding her now as if they were strangers.
“Whatever grievances you have against Harry, I cannot believe you want him dead!”
“Of course I do not,” Eleanor snapped. “Neither do my sons, nor Louis, either, for that matter. Can you imagine Louis, of all men, plotting regicide? I daresay he hopes to bleed away some of Harry’s strength, to keep him from expanding his empire at Louis’s expense. He hopes, too, that my sons will be easier to deal with than Harry. That may well be true for Hal, but not for Richard, as he’ll learn to his cost.”
“You keep saying ‘my sons.’ But they are Harry’s sons, too. And however you think he has wronged you, Eleanor, nothing could justify turning a man’s children against him.”
Eleanor was taken aback by the hostility in that accusation. “You think I did that? No, Harry handled that quite well all by himself. My sons love him not, and why should they? They barely know him. Richard and Geoffrey call him the Aquilon, a Norman name for the north wind. He sweeps into their lives, wreaking havoc, and then moves on, with nary a backward glance. And when he does pay them heed, it is only to make use of them in his various schemes and stratagems.”
“That is what kings do. And can you truly say that you have not done it, too? That you are not using Richard to protect Aquitaine?”
“Richard’s interests and Aquitaine’s interests are one and the same. There is no conflict there.”
“And what of Hal? It seems to me that you are seizing upon his discontent to right your wrongs. How fair is that?”
“You could not be more mistaken,” Eleanor said coldly. “Hal did not need me to prod him into rebellion. That was Harry’s doing, not mine. Hal is a crowned king, yet he has nothing to call his own. Harry denies him even the semblance of independence, much less any real authority. And when Hal has protested, Harry seeks to content him with empty promises. Let me tell you what Hal says of those promises-that they are counterfeit coin. And he is right.”
“Harry may not be a perfect father. But he does love them, Eleanor. You know he does!”
“Yes, I’ll grant you that. But he sees them as pawns on his imperial chessboard. He’ll never treat them as men grown, for in his eyes, they’ll always be children, children in need of his guidance and superior wisdom. He is convinced he is in the right and is utterly unwilling to compromise. Why should he? He is the puppeteer, after all, the one pulling the strings. But neither Hal nor Richard are puppets, as he is about to discover.”
“I do not deny that Harry is stubborn or that he makes mistakes, some of them grievous. Certainly he has erred with Hal. But there had to be another way than this, Eleanor!”
“I thought so, too-once. I talked myself hoarse trying to reach him, Maud, trying to make him see that he is the one sowing seeds of rebellion. But he’d not listen, not if it meant sharing power. I’ve told him that he governs as if he never intends to die, and it is no jest. You know what happens to saplings trapped in the shadow of a massive oak; their growth is stunted. Well, I am not going to let that happen, not to my sons. Harry made Hal a king and it is time he acknowledges him as one. As for Richard, he will rule Aquitaine with me until he grows to manhood, and then he will be accountable to the Almighty, not the King of England. And once Geoffrey weds Constance, he will-”
“Geoffrey, too? But he is just fourteen!”
“Need I remind you that when Harry was fourteen, he hired routiers and went off on his own to England,
