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 old – 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 Brabancons 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 Brabancon 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 Brabancons 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
