CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

Eleanor of Brittany threw her head back and laughed uproariously until the tears streamed down her face. Even in such a mood of gaiety her natural dignity and poise seemed unimpaired. Savary de Mauléon, the beau sabreur of John’s mercenary captains, smiled a broad unrepentant smile. He surmised that whenever the Pearl was happy the whole World seemed to share her jollity. It was as if the vibes from her outgoing personality were somehow being communicated throughout the length and breadth of the land. He received as much enjoyment watching her silent laughter when the Princess shook with vibrancy. To hold her shoulders gently at such moments was to receive an injection of sheer pleasure, to be transported with her into the Halls of Elysium.

“So my brave soldier boy exactly how successful have you been against my Uncle’s rebels?” queried the Pearl.

“Why my dear girl” responded de Mauléon. “You need have no fear about those scurvy devils they are well and truly boxed in around London.”

“Oh so the Capital is still not in our possession? You have made no inroads there”

“It is extremely difficult and if anyone could have made an impact it would have been my bold Poitevans. Still we have stopped the swine from breaking-out and the King has reduced his enemies to rubble, seemingly. in the rest of the Country.”

“Poor young Alexander has been chased up and down dale I believe?” enquired Eleanor” The young Scot was pursued as far North as Dunbar. God, whatever we might say Uncle John is becoming a new Lionheart.”

“Yes indeed. He has certainly covered a lot of ground, it’s only March and the King is now back in the South and has already been some time in East Anglia. Can anyone doubt that we are winning this war?”

“Certainly not, dear Savary. I must confess, however, that much of your military reputation I have learnt from elsewhere. Don’t get me wrong I have no wish to see you cavorting on the battle-field waving your sword about ....”

“My dear Princess you shock me” guffawed de Mauléon throwing-up his hands in mock surprise “I thought that you had seen me in action....”

“Well action of a sort, you’ve almost broken at least a couple of beds here, you certainly have energy, especially for one of your age.”

The routier convulsed in spasms of laughter. “Well, well, age is it? I know that I cannot compare in that respect with that young squire de Buissant.”

“Ah, Ah!” teased the Pearl “He is now Sir Guy de Buissant, knighted by the King himself and well regarded by Uncle for that matter.”

“Don’t tell me” enthused Savary “I have heard excellent reports of that young man and I like him unreservedly.”

“Great, I like it myself when all my men get on so well together” added Eleanor smacking de Mauléon playfully across his buttocks.

“My Lady, this violence is terrible” smiled the warrior “you of all people striking a poor defenceless supporter of the Crown.”

Eleanor commenced her silent laughing only stopping to wrinkle her pretty nose when Savary stroked her long lustrous hair.

“What a lovely touch you have, Sir mercenary” interjected the Princess “I hope you don’t catch cold totally undressed as you are, where is your finely wrought armour, breastplate, and shield?”

“At this moment I have no need of such implements” grinned the Captain “I am good enough to meet your needs as I lie before you now.”

“Are you indeed” purred Eleanor rubbing her perfectly formed breasts against her admirer. “Then cease your courtly talk and show me that you have lost none of your ardour.”

Every time with the Pearl seemed better than it had ever been before. The woman was at genius level when it came to love-making. To be honest she seemed at genius level on a number of plains, what a Princess! It was totally relaxing to be with her, totally exhilarating as well, that was the puzzlement of it all. Was there any limit to her attainments, and yet there was a chaste, big brown eyed, appearance about her that seemed at odds with her erotic nature. Eroticism and gentility, kindness, integrity, beauty and humour were all inter-mingled together. Some Princess, what a Queen she would have made!

De Mauléon wiped his brow of perspiration. Inspite of his undoubted fitness
and excellent physical condition, maintained in the course of fighting numerous skirmishes and battles on John’s behalf, a session with the Princess tested his metal to the full. He felt exhausted, but it was a tiredness that gave him a glow, a feeling that it was good to be alive inspite of all the traumas that he had to contend with outside.

“God, Lass” he muttered “I feel drained of all my strength, what incredible stamina you have.”

“We Plantagenets are noted for our drive”

“Is that what you call it?” grinned the mercenary “I can only say that I am glad that I am alive in 1216 and not some period in history long before or long after”

“Indeed why so my bold Savary?” enquired Eleanor.

“Tush lass, it’s obvious I would not have been able to savour your charms. When it comes down to it that’s what life is all about.”

“Thank-you, I am overwhelmed” blushed the Pearl. “Although I doubt if the Holy Father in Rome, or even prissy Archbishop Stephen Langton would share your sentiments about the purpose of our existence.”

“What do they know anyway?” laughed de Mauléon running his hand through Eleanor’s soft luxuriant hair.

The philosophical discussion was interrupted by a discrete knock at the Princess’s door.

“Your Highness, there are visitors to see the Poitivan Captain Messier Savary de Mauléon.”

“My, my” grimaced the Princess “your whereabouts are well known by my staff, or should I say my captors. Uncle John keeps a close watch on me and there is a thin dividing line between my servants loyalty to me and their responsibility to the King. Still, after all he does pay them and they treat me respectfully enough.”

“He certainly gives you a good length of rope ....”

“What? To hang myself with you mean? Still no matter I’ll see who wants to speak to me”.

“Actually” interrupted Savary “I believe the visitors were for me.”

Eleanor convulsed into fits of laughter and thrusting a cloak round the mercenary’s shoulders pointed hem impishly towards the door.

De Mauléon allowed the servant awaiting him to lead him down a flight of stairs into the main hall of the castle. Savary thought to himself “why on earth have I responded so quickly to this summons? After all I am a Captain of the King’s forces, should I really run around for every popinjay who barks out my name?”

“Can I present Rolf de Claimont and his party?” announced the servitor gracefully.

Savary glanced quickly round the small group of people standing before him. Apart from the central figure who seemed anxious to address him, and a stalwart fellow who to de Mauléon’s practised eye looked as if he could handle himself well in most situations the party was composed of the female sex.

“I take it I have the honour of addressing the famous Captain of mercenaries .....”began Rolf.

“Yes, yes, no need for the complements” grated de Mauléon a trifle irritated.

“I hope that we have not disturbed the honoured Captain at an inconvenient moment.” This comment came from one of the female members of the party.

De Mauléon raised an eyebrow in slight annoyance. They had, of course, come at an inconvenient time and it was more than a nuisance to have to give an audience when he could have been involved in more pleasant activities. However, his irritation subsided somewhat when he paused to look more closely at the lady who had addressed him. God in Heaven she was lovely, her features were flawless, sheer perfection, her fair hair spoke of possibly Saxon blood, the way she held herself erect with calm but expressive eyes fixed on him. There was an aura about the woman that spoke of vibrancy and intellect and also something else that gnawed into de Mauléon’s soul or was it his body, there was a hidden passion there that made him tremble even after knowing the woman for barely a few minutes.

“Lady who do I have the pleasure of talking to?”

“Myself you mean sir, my name is Athelfreda, sometime friend of the Earl of Leicester, William Longsword.”

“You mean the King’s half-brother?”

“Indeed the very same, although it is some time now since we parted, not by either of our wishes but by circumstances beyond our control.”

“I heard the name of my good Uncle being mentioned.” The assembled group looked-up to see Eleanor of Brittany descending the stairs into the main hall. “Ah yes” continued the Princess “I thought I recognised you, you are ....”

“Athelfreda, my Lady” responded the noble woman “I am privileged to see you again. I admired you not just because of your royal blood but because of your fighting spirit in great adversity.”

“Thank-you, you are too kind” smiled Eleanor.

“Exalted Lady” interposed de Mauléon. “With your permission I think we need to ascertain what important news these people wish to bring to our attention.”

“Certainly, carry on my dear Savary.”

“Well de Claimont what have you to say for yourself?” enquired the mercenary.

“We came hot foot from France having been witness to private discussions between amongst others the Comté de La Marché, the Count of Eu, and importantly Prince Louis himself!”

“So-o-o-o!” rasped de Mauléon through his teeth. “What hellish tricks have they planned?”

“Nothing less than an invasion of England. They could not really make their minds up on firm dates but the intention is there.”

“I had gathered that my dear de Claimont” responded Savary. “In fact some of the French are already here, pretty well impotent for that matter and making little impression on the situation.”

“That is as maybe” commented Rolf “You may not, however, realise the full implications of the French intervention. Prince Louis has indicated that he plans to use the rebel barons who have asked for his help purely for his own purposes. He dreams of the Crown of England and of France ultimately in his power. It will be a second invasion like the Norman one of 150 years ago. All the powerful positions will go to lackeys of French Louis. He will have turned England into a French independency.”

“If he succeeds!” snarled Savary. “That he will not, rest assured, also I feel the filthy barons, disreputable that they are, are using Louis as much as he plans to use
them. Nevertheless this is very useful information. I can tell King John that a fuller-scale invasion under the Dauphin is now much more imminent.”

“My good sir” interjected Athelfreda. “It would be expedient if you told William Longsword of my good health and that I am in safe hands.”

“Of course my Lady” agreed Savary. “Better still, I can arrange an interview, the Earl would be delighted to see you again.”

“Of a certainty, or perhaps not” added Athelfreda musing almost to herself. “Much has happened since our parting and I am sure the noble gentleman has made arrangements elsewhere.”

“If he has he must be blind or possibly mad” half-smiled de Mauléon “you are the kind of person who leaves an impression that would survive the Apocalypse.”

Eleanor coughed quietly, nudging the mercenary Captain’s elbow. “My, my” she whispered “you are a healthy rogue. How many women does it take to satisfy you?”

De Mauléon grinned sheepishly at the Princess and discretely gave her a gentle but playful pat on the backside. Eleanor almost convulsed into one of her fits of silent laughter but by sheer self-control, on this occasion, managed to desist.

Athelfreda meanwhile half-blushing, half-smiling moved as if to go, motioning Rolf to join her.

“However” continued Savary. “On a more formal and indeed political basis we need to touch base with the King. I am due to join forces with him again and need to, and indeed have arranged to see him at Windsor. I would be obliged if you could all join me there.”

“Is that necessary?” enquired Athelfreda “Rolf has given you all the information you need.”

“I am afraid it is essential that you all meet the King. He is a stickler for facts and would want to question you in detail, especially de Claimont here who appears to have some military training, and also the other fellow with you.”

“Athelfreda looked apprehensively in Rolf’s direction. When they had first met they were daggers drawn, she could never then have imagined taking his part on any issue. The situation now was different, they were effectively lovers, and the noble
woman dreaded the thought of a head to head with John. True he would be grateful for the information but would he forgive Rolf who after all a convicted outlaw?

“I am at the King’s service if he needs me, if it is a matter of loyalty to England then I see only one avenue open to me.” Rolf spoke quickly and without hesitation. It was a difficult decision to take, but as a man of honour what else could he do?”

“Very well” grunted de Mauléon “I am sure the Princess would have no objections to guests here for a short while. To-morrow we go to see the King.”

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