how Welshmen make the best archers,” the Captain said nonchalantly.
“Welsh? Welsh, my arse! A Welshman couldn’t hit the ocean from a boat. That’s English yew there. The finest there is. Now, I’ve had enough of your games. Open this cage and release us.” Robard tightened his grip and pushed the sword deeper into the man’s neck.
The Captain sighed again. His eyes were tired and world weary, but they glinted with determination. Instantly, I knew he would let his man die before he freed the three of us. He stared at Robard.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he said quietly.
“Do it now!” Robard commanded.
“No,” the Captain answered.
“I’ll kill him!” Robard shouted.
“Then do it. But you’re not going free,” the Captain said.
Robard’s face fell and his eyes narrowed. Maryam and I sat slumped in the cage, too stunned to say anything. Time went by without a sound from anyone except the ragged breathing of the unconscious guard. Finally, Robard saw the same thing in the Captain’s eyes I had. He reluctantly tossed the sword to the ground.
The Captain gestured to two of his men, who stepped forward and took the guard from Robard’s grasp. They lifted him up onto the wagon seat where he sat slumped against the driver, who took up the reins.
“Mount up!” the Captain commanded, and shortly we were back on our way. The Captain and the guards rode on, undisturbed by what had just happened.
Robard pounded his fists against the iron bars in frustration. “I smell your friend Sir Hugh,” he said.
“I’m not sure, Robard,” I mused. “I’m certain he would have headed for the southern coast first. We were careful as we traveled north. . ” I let my words trail off. In truth, I did not know what to think.
For the rest of the afternoon, we rode on without stopping. We had kept the water skin inside the cage and passed it around a few times. There was little conversation as we rolled along. Since we had left Montsegur those many days ago and walked ever northward, I had assumed we would reach the northern coast eventually, but I had no idea how much country there was to cross or how long it would take us. Now as our small band kept moving along, a familiar smell came to me. I sat up, taking a sniff of the air.
“What is it?” Maryam asked.
“I think. . it’s the. .” I still wasn’t sure.
Then the forest cleared, and a small city shadowed by a large castle lying along the seacoast came into view.
“We’re at the ocean,” I said. “I don’t know which town this is or what part of the coast we’re on, but we must be at the Channel.”
Robard and Maryam were not cheered by the news, and given the circumstances, I couldn’t blame them.
Within a half hour we pulled inside the castle. As the gate was wheeled shut, the guards dismounted and several grooms hurried forward to take their horses to the stables. The driver of the wagon unlocked the cage door with an iron key.
“Welcome to Calais,” said the Captain of the Guard. “Step lively now.”
My head still throbbed as we climbed out of the cage, but it was almost delightful to no longer be jounced around. Two guards took me by the arms, others followed suit for Maryam and Robard, and with the Captain at the head of our small column, we were led into the castle keep. They led us down a long, dimly lit hall and into a large room, brightly decorated with red carpets and brilliantly colored tapestries hanging on the walls. At the end of the room was a large wooden chair raised on a platform. Behind the chair was a beautiful purple velvet screen.
The chair was occupied by a commanding-looking woman. Her long, dark brown hair was splashed with gray, and the lines on her face said she’d spent much time in the sun and wind. But her eyes were dark and lively, and they glowed when she saw us. She looked us over as we approached, her gaze finally settling on me.
We were led all the way across the room until we were only a few feet from the chair.
“Kneel before the Queen Mother,” the Captain commanded.
The Queen Mother? Eleanor of Aquitaine? I had heard stories of her. She was King Henry’s queen and Richard the Lionheart’s mother. What was she doing here, and more important, why were the three of us being brought before her?
We stood as still as statues, unsure what to do.
“I said kneel!” the Captain commanded. The calm demeanor he had exhibited in the woods was gone. Being around the Queen Mother made him more forceful, and there was a tinge of cruelty in his tone. Our guards kicked at the backs of our knees, forcing us to the ground.
Queen Eleanor stood silently from her chair, studying us intently. Then she spoke.
“Sir Hugh? Are these the three?” Sir Hugh stepped around the velvet screen and stood next to but slightly behind her. He smiled his serpent’s smile when he saw me. I was surprised, but not shocked, to find him here. No matter where I went, he kept turning up.
“The very same, my lady,” he said.
Eleanor of Aquitaine nodded slightly, and the corners of her mouth moved upward just a tick. She stepped down from the platform to look carefully at Robard, then Maryam, until finally she stood directly in front of me. She was a small woman and used the platform to make herself more imposing. Bending over until her face was inches from my own, she appeared to memorize my every feature.
“Delicious,” she said with a wicked smile. “Delicious.”
CALAIS, FRANCE DECEMBER 1191
28
Queen Eleanor turned her back to me and stepped up onto the platform, settling on her throne. Sir Hugh had a look of vast relief on his face. He had lost us at Montsegur and by his own clumsy efforts had been unable to find us again. I wondered, though, why he had aligned himself with the Queen Mother.
“From what Sir Hugh tells me, you’re a slippery one, young squire,” she said as she stared at me. Instinct told me she wasn’t on my side, but I had no idea what she was talking about.
“Forgive me, your highness, but I’m not sure what you mean,” I told her.
To my surprise, Eleanor threw back her head and laughed. Or cackled rather. It was unsettling to say the least.
“Please, boy. Do you pretend ignorance of your circumstances?” she said.
“I have many circumstances, my lady. Which one are you referring to?”
Sir Hugh started toward me with his fist raised. “You’ll not take such a tone with the Queen Mother, boy!” But Eleanor held out her hand, touching him gently on the arm before he reached me.
“Not now, Hugh,” she said. Sir Hugh stepped back to his place behind her and sulked.
“I’m referring to the circumstances of your birth,” she said.
“If you mean I am an orphan, yes, I’m well aware of it,” I said.
“An orphan?” She looked at me quizzically, then threw her head back and laughed again. “An orphan. Oh, how rich this is. Even better than I thought!”
I was at a loss. She appeared more than a little crazy. Sitting up in her chair, her feet twitched nervously beneath the long beaded gown she wore.
“What do you want with us?” Robard demanded, having grown weary of Eleanor’s theatrics.
She paused in her study of me to turn her attention to Robard.
“Such impertinence,” she said. “Do you know who I am?”
Robard gave her an unfriendly smile and bowed slightly. “Of course I do. You’re the mother of a coward who calls himself the Lionheart. Lionheart, my arse! Ha! They ought to call him the Weaselheart instead!” Robard twisted his head as if to spit but thought better of it, given the lush red carpeting we knelt on.
Eleanor’s eyes darkened. “Captain,” she said, pointing to Robard and Maryam, “put these two in chains. The squire stays here.”
