Devil's Consort. Anne O'Brien
intent on mischief.
‘If we are speaking of advice, my lord—try this dish.’ I offered a flat silver platter stacked high with translucent grey shells. ‘Oysters are known to raise the humours and make a man think of a night heating the bed linen with a beautiful woman. Oysters give a man magnificent stamina.’
He looked at me as if I had struck him. ‘My lady!’
‘I am your wife. Is this not a proper conversation?’
Louis swallowed. ‘I think it is very forward, madam …’
I hooded my eyes. ‘It would please me if you would try them. I shall. We might both be pleased with the result tonight.’
Louis le Jeune looked like a hunted rabbit. With regret, I thought we were both in for some inexpert fumbling before we came to know each other. I wished my husband might have some experience, even if he lacked finesse. Entirely oblivious to my anger, my barely concealed scorn, Louis accepted the oysters without comment. I prayed silently that the old wives knew the efficacy of the succulent shellfish.
Barely had he lifted one, unenthusiastically, to his mouth than a courier approached down the length of the hall, pushing aside servants and guests alike. I expected him to come to me, but, of course, he would approach Louis—no, he bowed before the Abbot, which spiked my irritation further. The messenger stooped, whispered in Suger’s ear so that I could not hear. The Abbot issued a number of terse replies, brusque enough to fix my attention. Relaying the information to Louis, there passed between Abbot and Prince a welter of instructions and affirmations as the courier left the hall as fast as he had come.
I had been involved in none of it.
‘What is it?’ I would not be kept in the dark.
Louis turned reluctantly to me. ‘A problem.’
‘Well?’ I raised my beautifully plucked brows.
‘We leave now.’
‘Leave … You mean the palace? In the middle of the feast?’ As bad as I had feared.
‘We leave Bordeaux. It is not safe.’
‘Not safe? How could it not be safe in my own streets, my own city? No one would dare harm me here …’
Abbot Suger offered the explanation, speaking around Louis, his expression bleak. ‘An ambush, I am informed, outside the walls, my lady. Planned for tomorrow, under the auspices of the Count of Angoulême. Your vassal. He will take you both prisoner and assume the power in Aquitaine for himself.’
‘Angoulême? I don’t believe it. A show of force would soon drive him off …’
Louis took my hand, actually patted it as if I needed his comfort. ‘I’ll not risk it. I’ve given orders for my camp to be struck and your immediate possessions packed. We ride at once.’
So he would order the disposition of my own possessions. ‘Are we to run away?’ I asked between disbelief and fury.
‘No, no. We’ll forestall him. A far better course of action.’
‘It seems cowardly to me. Where do we go?’ To leave now before the bridal night? I had a sudden vivid picture of spending it in a ditch, beside a road.
‘It’s arranged, by my lord Abbot. We stay at the castle of Taillebourg tonight.’
‘It’s … it’s more than eighty miles to Taillebourg!’
‘It’s owned by one of your vassals who did homage to me—so it’s safe for us.’ Louis stood. Everyone on the dais surged to their feet, startled. Louis ignored them. ‘Make ready, my wife.’
I had, of course, no choice but to comply. It was as if the prospect of action had given Louis a much-needed bolt of confidence, and I could do nothing but walk at his side between the ranks of guests. Pairs of eyes followed us, in shock or amusement. Did they think we would pre-empt the bridal night? That Louis was too urgent to wait? All I saw on his face was strain, perhaps even fear.
Stopping only to change my marriage splendour for garments more suitable for an all-out flight, I was hurried from the palace—my vassals still unaware and feasting in the Great Hall—and rowed across the Garonne to where Louis was already preparing to mount and waiting for me, clad in mail as if expecting trouble to descend on our heads at any moment.
‘Lady!’ He waved his hand impatiently as I stepped from the boat, Aelith and some baggage following me. ‘What took you so long? Do you really need all of that? We mustn’t stay. I’ve ordered a horse litter for your comfort.’ He pointed to the cumbersome transport with its enveloping curtains, slung between four sturdy horses. I had travelled in such a palanquin—but rarely—and remembered the bruises and bone-shuddering jolts. And the tedium.
‘I thought we were in a hurry,’ I remarked.
‘We are.’
‘Then what point in a litter? I’ll ride.’
‘I think not. It’s too slow,’ Louis fretted, pulling me to one side with a hand around my forearm as if he would rather not have me question his decision in public view.
‘Slow?’
‘Too slow, with a sidesaddle and planchet for your feet and a groom to lead.’
Now I understood. I despised the litter but not as much as I despised the wooden seat with its solid foot-rest to allow a lady to ride in safety. I shook Louis’s hand off. He might be my husband of five hours but this was not good sense. ‘I’ll ride astride. No need of a groom or a leading rein. I’ve ridden all my life.’ I pulled on a pair of serviceable leather gloves, keeping my eyes firmly on his.
‘What?’ He was horrified.
‘I can keep up with you, my lord. Fetch me a horse to match your own.’
Louis cleared his throat and looked askance. Would he deny me that right, to decide the manner of my travel?
‘That is what I wish. And I will do it.’ I left him in no doubt.
‘The lady is right.’ The Abbot, stripped of his ecclesiastical garb for leather and light mail, strode up to chivvy us along. ‘If she is willing …’
‘She is!’ I flashed a warning look, by now thoroughly exasperated. ‘And we are wasting time here, if the danger is so great.’
So I had my way. Louis, his face flaming with high colour, was obviously nettled by my boldness, but I left him no choice. ‘Good!’ I nodded at the well-muscled mount that was brought forward for my approval, and raised my foot for his hand. ‘Lift me, and then we can be gone.’ As I mounted astride, I tried not to look for any sense of grievance in his resigned expression. But it was there.
We rode at breakneck speed, changing horses at every river crossing, soon outstripping the escort of Frankish knights who at first pounded around us, a human wall of defence against my recalcitrant vassals. I tried not to let the snarls against treacherous southerners hurt my heart, even as I accepted the rightness of them. So we rode as if the Devil himself pursued us rather than the Count of Angoulême—and we saw no trace of him. Hour after hour, without rest except to snatch a mouthful of bread and a gulp of wine to sustain us. Abbot Suger urged us on at every brief halt. And since he had our safety at heart, and my own people were the cause of our flight, I could hardly resist, even though I could have fallen from my saddle with weariness towards the end. Aelith, as rank and filthy as I from sweat and dust, fared no better, but Louis showed surprising stamina. Or perhaps it was determination not to be bested twice in one day by a woman.
As the hours and the miles passed, I felt his anxious eyes travel over me when my muscles shrieked their weariness and my eyelids threatened to close. Yes, he had concern for me, I thought. There was no malice in the frequent glances, even though I had insisted and must now pay the price. I doubted there was a malicious bone in his body. But I would give him no cause for complaint. I stiffened my shoulders, set my mind against aching muscles and chafed