A Reed in the Wind: Joanna Plantagenet, Queen of Sicily

by Rachel Bard

  “But I thought we agreed on all that at Christmas,” said Eleanor tartly. “What do you have to discuss now?”

  Raymond’s usual aplomb was cracking. He looked uncomfortable.

  My mother often has that effect on people, Joanna thought.

  Raymond took a sip of wine, hesitated and plunged ahead.

  “The situation has changed somewhat since Christmas. Forgive me but I must be blunt. By now Richard’s totally obsessed with finishing his “Chateau Gaillard” before the present truce with Philip runs out and they go at each other again. This means that he depends on me, his future brother-in-law, to maintain the peace on his southern borders so he can keep all his forces in the north. This places me in a much better bargaining position than before. So I shall ask Richard for a slight revision in our agreement.”

  “How slight?” asked Eleanor. “Surely you aren’t going to go back on your promise to give Joanna the Agenais and Quercy?”

  “No indeed. But as count of Toulouse, I have the responsibility of maintaining the integrity and independence of my domain of Languedoc. This independence has often been threatened by England, even by your husband King Henry, as well as by Richard when he was duke of Aquitaine before he became king. Now is my opportunity to ask Richard to give me a solemn pledge to renounce any present or future claims to our lands on the part of England.”

  Joanna was fascinated. This was a new side of Raymond, as clever negotiator if a bit pompous. It suddenly occurred to her that as countess of Toulouse she too would have the responsibility to maintain the borders and insure the peace. Where did her loyalties lie? To the interests of England? She could see that Eleanor was already fuming and about to denounce such a ridiculous proposal. Joanna knew where she must stand. She plucked up her courage and spoke before her mother could.

  “That strikes me as a very sensible settlement. For years and years England and Toulouse have been quarreling about who has a right to what along their borders. But have the borders changed? I suspect very little. Mother, think of all that will be saved by this agreement—the lives of brave soldiers, the enormous expense of maintaining armies in the field. When it’s put to Richard, I’m sure he’ll see the logic of it.”

  “So you intend to support Raymond in this?” Eleanor’s tone was frosty.

  “I do.”

  Raymond looked at her in astonished approval, But instead of arguing, Eleanor sighed, leaned back and closed her eyes. It was dismissal.

  “I think you had better leave me now.” Her voice was flat and toneless.

  “Will we see you at dinner, mother?”

  “I doubt it.”

  Once outside and in the corridor, Raymond threw his arms around Joanna and hugged her.

  “Bravo!” He stood back and surveyed her in admiration. “You were clearly the winner in that encounter.”

  “I suppose I was. But I’ve never seen my mother accept a setback so passively. Maybe she was in a state of shock to see me so assertive. I even surprised myself.”

  “And maybe she’s finally tired. She’s been battling her whole life for what she believes in. I respect her for that. How old is she, by the way?”

  “She’ll soon be seventy-five. But I doubt if she’s giving up. She may not fight this but there’ll be other causes.”

  Neither Joanna nor Eleanor spoke to each other about the subject again. And when Raymond approached Richard the latter saw the merits of the cease-fire and readily agreed. Anything to keep the peace in the south while he fought in Normandy.

  With the wedding postponed again, Joanna now had time to make the long-planned visit to Berengaria in Beaufort.

  She was always surprised at the modest scale of Beaufort, after the grandeur of the imposing palace in Poitiers. It was quite a small castle, though from its location atop a small hill it dominated the little town. As her party wound its way up the hill she looked around her at the countryside and reflected on what Richard had told her. The Romans chose this spot for a fortress and her ancestors built their own castle on the Romans’ ruins, recognizing how well it commanded a view of all approaches. “There’d be no way for an invading force to creep up unseen,” he’d said. In fact, she thought with amusement, Berengaria is probably observing our invading force from Poitiers right now.

  As the travelers reached the top of the hill, a horse and rider burst through the gate and galloped across the bridge.

  At the last minute the man saw them and reined in his horse just in time to avoid a collision, eliciting a scream from Adelaide. The steed swerved and came to a full stop. He must have been used to his impetuous master.

  The horseman was an extraordinary sight. He was immensely tall and dressed in leather jerkin and leggings. Over these unremarkable garments he wore a black velvet cape embroidered with a coat-of-arms that looked familiar to Joanna—a coal-black eagle, wings outstretched on a field of gold. A heavy gold chain and cross hung around his neck. A jaunty crimson feather sprouted from his black velvet cap. Joanna guessed that he might be close to forty—a very hale and hearty forty. Beneath the massive man his sizeable horse looked like a pony. He surveyed the party and fixed his eyes on Joanna.

  “You must be Queen Joanna,” he said. “My sister is eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

  “Of course—you’re Berengaria’s brother Sancho. You’re king of Navarre. I’ve heard so much about you. She looks up to you tremendously.”

  “In more ways than one,” he grinned. Joanna liked him at once.

  “But you’re leaving just as we get here. What a pity.”

  “I’d gladly stay but I must be in Angoulême by nightfall. I’m on my way to see your brother Richard in Normandy. We have urgent matters to discuss. I expect my sister will tell you about them.” He doffed his hat, spurred his horse and was off. His squire, a normal-sized man on a normal-sized horse, trotted after him.

  “Brusque, isn’t he?” commented Adelaide.

  “Yes. He speaks plainly and doesn’t waste time on meaningless pleasantries. I find that refreshing.”

  “But what a fine-looking man! Too bad you’re engaged to Raymond. You could marry a king instead of a count.”

  “Not a chance! Besides, Berengaria told me he’d recently been married.”

  They rode on into the bailey, and Joanna was pleased to see that it had been considerably spruced up since her first visit. Decrepit outbuildings had been razed or repaired and a garden flourished in the middle of the extensive courtyard. A vine-covered pergola overlooked the rose garden. The castle itself, little more than a U-shaped array of low buildings, with a tower at either end and one in the center, also looked in better repair.

  Their approach must indeed have been observed because servants were waiting to see to their horses and show them to their lodgings. They’d barely dismounted when Berengaria appeared at the door of the central tower and hurried to greet them.

  An hour later the two friends were settled in Berengaria’s reception room, one tenth the size of Queen Eleanor’s great hall and ten times as inviting. Joanna looked around admiringly.

  “Such a pleasant room! You’re acquired several fine pieces of furniture. And those lovely tapestries! I’ve seen nothing like that anywhere else in France.

  “I had most of the furnishings and the tapestries sent from Navarre. Though my brother Sancho is king now, he’s seldom in the palace, too busy fending off Castile and Aragon. So we agreed I might as well be using some of our parents’ things rather than have them just gather dust. I’m glad they please you.”

  She took Joanna’s hand and led her to a divan where they sat side by side.

  “Now you must tell me why the wedding was postponed and how things are with you and Raymond.”

  “I’ll get to that. We have so much to talk about, haven’t we? But first, I’m dying of curiosity. We ran into your brother Sancho just outside the wall, or rather, he almost ran into us! He was in such a hurry that he couldn’t stop to talk, but he did say he was on his way to see Ri
chard about something important and that you could explain it. Can you tell me more?”

  “I can, though it will be hard for me.” She chose her words carefully and spoke in a low voice, not looking at her friend.

  “As I think you know, when Richard left me after Christmas he told me he would not be back unless I sent word I was pregnant.”

  “Yes, Jean-Pierre told me about it. My heart went out to you. It was cruel.”

  “By now I’m over the shock and simply trying not to think about it. But not only has Richard rejected me, so has your mother. She avoided me when we were in Poitou. She’s decided, I’m sure, that since I haven’t provided the heir they expected, there’s no need to pretend I’m still important.” She bowed her head. The tears she’d been holding back ran down her cheeks.

  “My dear, I can’t defend Richard and Eleanor. I wish they hadn’t hurt you so.” She put her arm around her friend’s shaking shoulder. “When I can, I’ll urge them to show more Christian love and charity.” But I don’t know what good that will do, she thought.

  Berengaria gulped, took a deep breath, and went on.

  “Sancho stopped to see me on his way to see Richard about another matter—renewing the treaty between Navarre and England that your father and my father signed when I was affianced to Richard. But when I told him how Richard had treated me, he was furious. After he’d calmed down he gave me his brotherly advice. He thinks I should accost both Queen Eleanor and Richard and tell them that by denying me my rightful place at his side, Richard will be seen by the church as in violation of his wedding vows. He also urged me to write to the pope and enlist his support.” She was calmer now.

  Joanna was fairly sure that neither her mother nor her brother would be persuaded by such a plea. But she merely said, “And will you take his advice?”

  “No. At least not all of it, not yet. I’m simply not brave enough or strong enough to confront either Richard or Eleanor. And even if I were, I have my pride. I’d feel like a beggar.”

  “You shouldn’t feel that way. You’re only asking for what’s rightfully yours.”

  “I suppose so. Sancho told me I need more backbone. But for now I shall write to the pope, though I don’t know what he can do.”

  Joanna unexpectedly laughed and Berengaria looked at her suspiciously. This wasn’t a laughing matter.

  “I know what he can do. He can threaten to excommunicate Richard. This pope is remarkably good at issuing decrees of excommunication. If he weren’t, Raymond and I might be married by now.”

  “What are you talking about? Was Raymond excommunicated? And that’s why you put the wedding date off?”

  Joanna was glad to change the painful subject. She told about Raymond’s dispute with the clerics of Saint-Gilles, Pope Celestine’s decree excommunicating him, Raymond’s trip to Rome and the pope’s agreement not to enforce the decree. And then began the problems with his troublesome vassals and the matters he had to take up with Richard.

  “So of course the wedding had to be postponed while all that was straightened out. But everybody seems confident that we’ll be well and truly married by October. So that gives you plenty of time to have a grand gown made to wear to my wedding.”

  “And what will you be wearing? I wouldn’t want my grand gown to clash with yours.”

  “My mother recommends a purple brocade with gold embroidery. But I’m thinking of a straight, sheath-like gown, maybe green, with a sleeveless redingote of white lace over it.”

  “I can see it now! But I predict some serious negotiations ahead. Have you asked Raymond’s opinion?”

  “No, I’ve had no chance. But I’m quite sure he’d be on my side. One of the things I like about him is that he comments on what I wear.”

  “Which brings me to my next question. So much time has passed since you agreed to marry him—are you still convinced it was the right decision?”

  “More than ever. The more I see of him the better I like him. I may never feel I know him as well as I knew William. But I believe he’ll do as he promised. He’ll take care of me and help me give my life some direction. I’ll be my own person again instead of the widow who had to go home to mother.”

  For a few minutes each thought her own thoughts. Joanna wasn’t sure if they’d settled anything, but at least they were caught up on each other’s news.

  At a knock on the door, Berengaria said, “Oh, that must be Lady Héloise, my lady-in-waiting. I told her to come in before dinner so she could meet you. She’s become a real friend.”

  In came a tall, angular woman with a kind, cheerful face.

  “Here’s my dear Joanna, Héloise. Isn’t she as pretty as I told you?”

  “Indeed, even more so. I’m very pleased to meet you, my lady.”

  She turned to Berengaria. “Since it’s such a nice day I took the liberty of asking that our dinner be served outside in the pergola by your rose garden.”

  “What a good idea! Let’s go to table at once. I’m suddenly very hungry.”

  Out they went to dine companionably on roast chicken, bread warm from the oven, mushroom tarts and ripe red cherries, while the June sun beamed and the scent of roses sweetened the air.

  When the last glass of wine had been drained and the last sparrow had found a crumb in the grass, Joanna leaned back contentedly. Sunlight that made its way through the leafy vines warmed her face. She leaned back, closed her eyes and heard Berengaria and Héloise talking about whether the gardener was dealing properly with rose blight.

  How glad I am to be here, she thought, and to see Berengaria again. It’s good to be able to confide in each other. I hope I gave her some comfort. We’ll talk some more before I leave. And then…and then…it’s only three months until I marry Raymond. Surely nothing can stop that now.

  She dozed.

  Chapter 61

  “Everybody said it was a beautiful wedding,” said Joanna dreamily.

  It was the morning after the ceremony and they were guests of the bishop in his palace in Rouen.

  Joanna was lying on her back in a huge bed between lilac-colored silk sheets and with her head resting on a lilac pillow. If Raymond had been looking he would have observed that she lay wide-eyed, with a little smile on her face and with her tousled brown hair spread like a fan on the pillow. But Raymond, lying next to her, wasn’t looking. He was still asleep, though twitching a little.

  “Didn’t you think it was a beautiful wedding?” She tickled his ear. He moaned, not unhappily, and opened his eyes.

  “Yes, it was beautiful. So was the dream you awakened me from. Do let me go back to sleep, if only for a few minutes!”

  “Why? What was happening in your dream?”

  “We’d just come from the banquet,” he said, “which went on far too long, didn’t it? But here we were, alone at last, and we undressed and it was the first time I’d seen you like that and you were so lovely and just a little shy so you got into bed and so did I and I just looked at you and you smiled at me like an angel and—and then you woke me up!” He pled with her. “Please, Joanna, let me finish my dream.”

  “But Raymond, I can remember everything that happened after that. Surely you can too.”

  “Yes, I think so. But I want to dream it again to make sure.”

  “Then let me help. I’ll show you. First you put your arms around me.” She lifted her head and he slid an arm under it and pressed her close to his chest.

  “Like this?”

  “Yes, just so.” Her voice was muffled. “Then we kissed. Like this.”

  “And then…I caressed you here…”

  “Oh yes! And then…”

  And then, the next thing they knew they woke again to find themselves entwined and the sheets in a tangle. A strange light flooded the room.

  Joanna pulled the bed curtain aside and peeped out.

  “Raymond! We’re in the middle of a rainbow!”

  She pulled the curtain all the way open and slid out of bed. Two tall stained-glass win
dows dominated the facing wall. In vibrant shades of blue, gold, red and green, they depicted the Annunciation and the Resurrection. They captured the rays of the sun and transmuted them into shafts of brilliantly colored light that played about the room.

  He looked at the spectacle and blinked. “I suppose those windows were there last night but I didn’t notice them.”

  “Neither did I.” She giggled. “Maybe it’s just as well. We might have felt we were misbehaving in church.”

  She put on a robe, got back in bed and propped herself up against the pillows. William yawned, stretched and sat up beside her.

  “Why so serious all of a sudden, my countess? Why do you frown? Have I displeased you already?”

  “No, I’m thinking about Toulouse.”

  “But you’ll love Toulouse. It’s a beautiful city and our palace is extremely comfortable, if not quite as luxurious as this one. I wonder how Bishop Nicolas manages.”

  “My mother has hinted that he receives generous contributions from both England and France. Both sides hope to buy his support in their territorial quarrels.”

  “How clever of him.” He paused and she could imagine his agile brain trying to figure out a way he too could play one side against another to add to his revenue. She’d learned that Raymond had a calculating side to him, always on the alert for ways to stay ahead of the game. She rather liked that about him.

  He took her hand and gently rubbed her palm with his fingers. She liked that too.

  “But back to Toulouse. What do you find so alarming about it?”

  “Oh, I know I’ll like it. The bishop was telling me at the banquet about the beautiful churches and how they call it the Rosy City because of the color of the bricks they build with. He lived there several years when he was a young priest. But he said they also call it the City of Towers because so many of the houses are fortified with tall brick towers. He said your subjects are a quarrelsome lot, always finding new things to fight each other about. Raymond, am I going to live in a battleground? Will I have to dodge arrows when I go out on the streets?” She was trying to make light of it but she was half serious.