The Queen's Pawn

by Christy English

  John saw a shadow come over my eyes, and he smiled at me as he led me up the wide staircase to the castle’s upper levels. “Don’t frown so, Your Grace. There are new rooms waiting for you. The king has been very solicitous on your behalf while you have been away.”

  “The king is good to me.”

  John raised one eyebrow, and for the first time I saw the light of skepticism reach his eyes, a perception that went far beyond his years. It was uncanny, that this boy saw so much, when at his age I had known nothing. What I knew now of politics, Eleanor had taught me. I wondered, watching the prince, who had taught him.

  “Indeed, Princess. I am happy to hear it.”

  We came to a large set of double doors on a wide corridor that I had never walked down before. At our approach, the doors were thrown open and Marie Helene stepped out, Bijou in her arms.

  She curtsied at once to John, who eyed her russet gown as if he was imagining all that lay beneath it. She did not take offense at his gaze, but she did not dismiss his interest as a child’s bravado, either.

  “My lad, I am glad you have returned.”

  “So am I.” I caressed Bijou’s head. “Has she behaved since they brought her up with the baggage?”

  Marie Helene’s lips quirked in a smile. “Indeed, my lady. I have not yet set her down. Your new rooms are quite fine, and I wanted you to see them first.”

  “Ladies, I will leave you.” John smiled on us, then turned to me, taking my hand in his. “I will see you at the king’s table, Princess.”

  “I look forward to it, my lord prince.”

  “Call me John, Your Highness. I insist that beautiful women ignore my title, and smile on myself alone.”

  I wondered how a boy could have such a silver tongue. “Thank you, John.”

  He bowed, taking in Marie Helene’s curves once more before he strolled away.

  “Be on your guard with the prince, Your Highness,” Marie Helene said. “He is not as young in his mind as he is in his body”

  I kissed her cheek. “I must be on my guard always, Marie Helene, whoever I am speaking to. But I am glad I have you to remind me.”

  I took Bijou in my arms, and stepped into my new rooms.

  Those rooms were wide, with great glass windows that looked down on the bailey below. They were filled with beeswax candles, and the scent of wax mixed with the scent of clean herbs in the braziers.

  The great bed was covered in green silk, and heavy drapes of satin hung from the canopy. I saw at once that the drapes and bedclothes were new. I would thank Henry for them at dinner.

  Three large braziers stood, the scene of a deer hunt carved into the bronze of their bowls. Between these braziers was the deepest tub I had ever seen, filled with water so hot, steam rose from it. Two women stood beside it, their sleeves rolled up, ewers of water in their arms. One ewer held warm water and another cold, so that they could keep my bath comfortable while I sat in it.

  The tapestries on the walls depicted another deer hunt, and were beautifully rendered in brilliant colors, though I could not look on the final panel and still sleep. In it, a deer was impaled on a pike, then hoisted onto the back of a horse. The deer’s glassy eyes were rendered so well that it gave me pause. I moved to cross myself, but I was still holding Bijou.

  “I have spoiled her,” I said. “She was with me all the time at Deptford.”

  “You needed a friend in that place,” Marie Helene said.

  I saw the darkness in her eyes, and the set of her mouth. She could not continue to be surly, or Henry would never let her stay.

  “Marie Helene, the king was there. He is my friend, as well as yours.”

  She did not answer, so I set Bijou down and took her hand. “I love him. You will see. Henry loves me, too.”

  “Richard will be glad to hear of it.”

  Eleanor stood in the wide doorway, two of her ladies flanking her. She raised one hand, and stepped into my rooms. The women closed the door behind her. But for the bathing women and Marie Helene, we were alone.

  Eleanor was as beautiful as when I left her over a month before. Any grief she felt over my betrayal had not shadowed her splendor. Her eyes were undimmed; the beauty of their emerald light still beckoned me. My heart seized, and I had to breathe slow and deep. I loved her still.

  I turned to the women who stood by to tend my bath. “You may go,” I said.

  They set their ewers down, and left the room by a side door hidden behind a tapestry. Marie Helene made sure that the door was shut fast behind them.

  I took off the filet Eleanor had given me, and drew my veil off. Marie Helene moved to my side to take them from me. I sat in one of the many chairs that graced my new rooms. The pillows in each chair were plump and beautifully embroidered with scenes of the hunt.

  “Welcome, Your Majesty,” I said. “Can we offer you some watered wine?”

  Eleanor laughed as she stood by the outer door. The sound was beautiful, as beautiful as it had ever been, before I knew of her betrayal, before I had betrayed her myself. Soon, Henry and I would hear from the pope. Henry would be granted an annulment, and Eleanor would retire to a nunnery I would become the king’s lawful wife. I had begun to learn a new thing while at Deptford, something Eleanor had never taught me: the law was what the king said it was.

  “You are making yourself at home here, I see,” Eleanor said as she stepped into the room. She did not sit with me.

  Marie Helene poured two goblets of wine, the first one for me, which she set by my elbow. After I had drunk, Marie Helene brought another golden goblet to the queen. Eleanor took it from her, and held it up in the firelight.

  “It would seem that these, too, are mine.”

  Eleanor drank the wine that Henry had ordered for me from Anjou before she set the goblet down on a small table near the bed. She took in the giant bed frame with its elaborate draperies and dark wood. She eyed it for a long moment. If I had not known her better, I would have thought she was amused.

  “Richard was conceived in that bed,” she said. “I had almost forgotten.”

  Though hearing Richard’s name on her lips pained me, my anger began to rise as well. She planted the seeds of dissent and war among her sons, and hoped to plant them now in me. In the end, she would see reason, and let the king go. I did not answer her, but took another sip of my wine.

  “These rooms were mine, you see,” she said. “Once, long ago.”

  Eleanor strolled through my new rooms, taking in the sight of the new tapestries, the new bedding, the gold plate on the sideboard. There was a large oak table in the center of the room, surrounded by braziers. It would be the perfect spot for private suppers with the king.

  She stopped near my chair, and Bijou came to her at once, sniffing around the edges of her gown. I smiled, my dignity lost, and scooped up my wayward puppy.

  “Pardon Bijou, Your Majesty She does not know her manners. She takes everyone for a friend.”

  “As you used to, Alais”

  “Indeed, Your Majesty I did.”

  Eleanor sighed and sat down. I looked to Marie Helene and she went at once to fetch the queen’s cup of wine from across the room. She set it on the table at the queen’s elbow, as she had set down mine.

  Eleanor saw that I gave this order without speaking, and that Marie Helene obeyed in the same instant. She knew us both well enough to see behind the ruse. We meant to show her that I was queen in these rooms, as I would one day be queen in England. The light of admiration came into her eyes, and she smiled at me.

  “Princess, how far you have risen.”

  “Indeed, Your Majesty. I will one day be a queen.”

  Eleanor barked with laughter, the music of her mirth filling my rooms so that Bijou wagged her tail.

  But I did not smile, nor did Marie Helene. We knew that she was laughing at me.

  “Alais, forgive me.” Eleanor wiped tears of mirth from her eyes and sat back in her chair, her wine untouched beside her. “I think of you
as Louis’ daughter, and he could never stand up to me. I forget that you had a mother. You must have gotten your strength from her.”

  Neither of us spoke of the deeper truth that lay between us: she had been both my mother and my father for the last few years of my life. And now, as I looked at the woman I loved more than anyone else on earth, I saw only my enemy.

  “So you have taken my rooms, and scheme now to take my crown.”

  “I do not scheme, Your Majesty.”

  “Oh, no, not you, Alais. It would be beneath your father’s honor, would it not?”

  I kept my tone low, my voice even. “Your Majesty, I want only for there to be peace between the king and his sons.”

  Eleanor was on her feet in an instant, the fury she had been holding back flashing in her eyes, and raining from her tongue.

  “How dare you sit in my rooms, drink my wine, and name my sons to me?”

  I stood and faced her. My voice was calm when I answered her, the ice of my own pain behind my eyes. “Your Majesty, you would do the realm a service by stepping aside. Once you have taken the veil, your sons will abide by their father’s rule. Plantagenet lands will be at peace, in England and on the Continent, and this strife will end as if it had never been.”

  Eleanor’s eyes glittered with malice. Never before had she turned such a face on me. It was like a dagger in my heart to see her fury directed at me. But she had helped me make this bed, with her own lies and treachery. Now we would both lie in it.

  “You are a fool, Alais. As big a fool as your father ever was. Henry has fed you a pack of lies, and you have swallowed them whole. God help you when you see it.”

  My own fury rose to meet hers, and now I welcomed it. I had made a play for the throne, and I would take it. I would preserve the treaty with France, and remake my life. Eleanor would have to move out of my way

  “What I see, Your Majesty, is that you will step aside and take up the position as abbess at Fontevrault. What I see is that there will be peace between the king and his sons.”

  Eleanor turned on me, but I stood my ground. In these rooms, and in Henry’s court, I was now her equal.

  “Hear this, Alais, for I will only say it once. I will never take the veil. Not now, not thirty years from now. I am queen in these lands. No decree from the king, and no prayers from you, will make it otherwise.”

  Eleanor moved to the outer door. Her women must have heard her steps, for they opened my doors from the corridor, so that she stood framed in my doorway.

  She turned back and raised her voice, so that anyone in the corridor might hear. “Do you really think you can defeat me, Alais? Even now, have you no idea who I am?”

  All my doubts of Henry were buried now in my anger at Eleanor. I crossed the room until I, too, could be heard in the corridor. When I spoke, my voice was strong. I did not hesitate to strike for blood, knowing that I would draw it.

  “Your Majesty, it is not I who fights you. It is the king. And he always wins.”

  Eleanor stared at me, the color draining from her face. The only color left beneath her wimple was the green of her glittering eyes.

  Her women stepped forward, and took her arms. If they had not come to support her, Eleanor might have fallen.

  It was the sharpest pain of my life, to see her brought so low. But there was triumph in that moment, too. She had used me as one more pawn on her chessboard, when I had done nothing but love her. If I had wanted revenge for her treachery in turning my letter over to the king, for the deception of her son, I had it then.

  I stood in silence as her women met my eyes. They curtsied to me, before they led her away

  Chapter 25

  ELEANOR: LOYAL SUBJECTS OF THE KING

  Windsor Castle

  September 1172

  I had no time to recover from my meeting with Alais, for the meal in the great hall would take place, whether I willed it or no. And I did will it, for it was the only chance that day that I would have to see Henry, to remind him of our old alliance, and of his love for me.

  Whatever Alais did for him behind the curtains of his bed, I had done more and done better in my time. I had borne him living sons, and daughters to shore up his power, and the power of the realm. Henry and I had been partners on the throne of England far longer than Alais had been alive. I knew that even now he might still be brought to reason.

  I was late coming to the hall, but when I stepped inside, I saw that all my arrangements had taken place just as I had ordered them. Jugglers and musicians performed below the high table, careful to include the king in their revelry, but always keeping their focus on the foot of the table, where Richard and I would sit.

  Richard was waiting for me. He had never found such things amusing, and as he sat across from Henry, gazing at the woman who would have been his, he drank bitter dregs along with his mead. But I had coached him well, and he knew his role. He stood when I entered, and bowed to me, as if I were an empress.

  The rest of my people took up his gesture, bowing as if they had never seen me before and I had just come down to earth from the right hand of God. They did not kneel, for that would have been pushing things too far. As it was, Henry raised a sardonic eyebrow at me, meeting my gaze above everyone’s heads.

  Some of Henry’s own men took up the conceit, and bowed to me as well, though not as low or as long. Henry almost laughed to see them do it, and to see their confusion as they rose once more, looking first to one another and then to him for guidance. Never before had our court been so openly divided. No one but my own people knew how to handle it gracefully, and they knew only because I had instructed them.

  Just when it would have begun to seem defiance of the king and not love of me, my people rose from their obeisance and took their places at the high table and at the tables below the dais. My musicians began to play a softer tune, one more conducive to taking a meal, gentle, light music to aid digestion. There was much for me to swallow that night, and well Henry knew it.

  Henry stood to greet me with honor, and I faced him.

  “Welcome, Eleanor.”

  I had covered myself in splendor that night, wearing a new gown of the deepest green that brought out the emerald brilliance of my eyes. I smiled at him as if it were any other night, and raised one eweled hand, acknowledging his words.

  “I thank you, my lord king. You are kind to welcome me into my own hall.”

  Henry did not smolder. Anger did not rise behind his eyes. I wondered if he had heard from the pope already Clearly, he had planned the next move in his game, and did not fear any retribution from me.

  “It is my hall, Eleanor. It would do well for you to remember that.”

  I knew that if Henry and I might speak alone, even now, the political situation might be salvaged. But I saw from the set of his clear gray eyes that he would not see me alone, that night or ever. We would have to play out this farce, as we had played out so many before, neither giving way.

  Always before, I had deferred to him in the end, for always, he was king. But this time, I could not, and he knew it. This time we played for all or nothing, no middle ground between us. I saw that it saddened him a little to cast me aside, but when he turned to Alais, and took her hand, I saw that he would do it.

  I said nothing more, but curtsied to Henry, letting Richard take my arm and seat me at the end of the high table. I sat at the very foot, facing Henry directly. My presence elevated the lowly spot to one of beauty and graciousness. Even in defeat, I smiled as if I knew it.

  My women came and sat around me, the ones who knew they would never gain position with the king. Richard shared my trencher and his men flanked him.

  Alais sat by Henry, eating off his trencher, dressed once more in cloth of gold. Henry had his dressmakers working during the weeks he and his lover were gone to Deptford; my spies had reported back to me of the fortune Henry was spending on new silks for the princess, the multicolored gowns that were cut from her old measurements. Alais did not seem overween
ing in her pride, in spite of the fortune in jewels and silk she wore; she simply sat at Henry’s side as if she belonged there.

  Henry sat beside my rival and waved one hand. Servers came at once and laid fresh meat and greens on my trencher, setting down a golden goblet full of my favorite wine. Henry smiled on me as if I were his guest, and not his wife of over twenty years.

  Prince John came into the hall then, drawing my eye away from the king. He had waited in the shadows to see how the scene between us played out. Now that all was calm once more, he stepped forward onto the dais.

  John came to me first, bowing courteously to me and kissing my hand, as any good son might. But after he greeted me, he turned at once and knelt to the king.

  Henry smiled, his eyes softening. I could see that John was still his favorite son. There was no dissembling in John’s face, no ploy to play one parent off against the other. A flash of irritation lit Richard’s eyes, and Henry noticed it as I did. He gazed down the table at his elder son before he gave John leave to rise.

  “You are welcome, John. Come here and sit by me.”

  The gentleman at Henry’s side vacated his position at once, and John sat down, his slanted eyes smiling at Alais, as I had instructed him.

  “Good evening, Father. I see your rose is as lovely as she was an hour ago.”

  “Two hours ago, John. No rose, even one just cut, would fade so quickly.”

  John served himself some pork. “The princess is as lovely as a fresh bloom, my lord. That is not merely a pretty courtesy.”

  The meal passed slowly as I paid my people the compliments they deserved, and as my musicians played on, knowing that I would pay them as well, once the meal was over.

  Henry eyed me over the rim of his cup of mead. I still hoped that I might persuade him to speak to me. I raised my goblet to him in a mock toast, and Henry laughed, raising his tankard to me. For a moment, the ember of the old love that had always been between us glowed once more.

  But Henry turned from me almost in the same instant, and moved his hand beneath the table. No doubt he was caressing Alais there in front of me. He raised his voice to be certain that I might hear him.