CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

“Melissa is your mistress here?”

“Certainly Sir Guy do you desire an audience with her?”

Guy de Buissant had arrived weary and mud-bespattered at Corfe Castle. He had hurried into the entry, had his horse quickly stabled and taken the liberty of approaching Melissa, one of Eleanor’s most reliable ladies in attendance.

“Yes I do” responded Guy quickly “It is news of the most urgent.”

“Then please wait here I will be back very shortly” replied the lady.

De Buissant wandered up and down somewhat impatiently for seemingly an eternity. Every second, in Guy’s mind added up to a good solid hour as the urgency of his quest became more and more evident. Time was absolutely crucial. He felt like breaking all the rules of protocol and charging in to see the Princess.

“Come this way Sir Guy.”

Standing before the former squire was a young woman of a fairly dark complexion that he had not seen before.

“I thought I knew all Lady Eleanor’s people” announced Guy “but, dear lady, you are new to me. You could be Norman-French yet there is the slight indication of the East about you.”

“In that case I will introduce myself. My name is Jadabal. My father was a crusader with Richard the Lion-Heart and took part in the taking of Acre. He was a man of valiant parts and became on his travels embroiled with a beautiful Saracen lady. I am the happy product of that liaison. Think of me more as Eleanor’s good and trusted friend rather than her servant.”

“I will bear that in mind” smiled de Buissant.

“In the meantime please follow me” replied Jadabal.

The half-Saracen lady took Guy into a pleasantly decorated room one that he was not unacquainted with. In the middle of the floor was a bath-tub filled with water into which he was invited to step.

“I will get Melissa to bring in some towels” indicated Jadabal. “I will leave you now but please get out of your dirty clothes and give yourself the luxury of a soothing bath.”
“I thank-you, my girl” responded Guy “But I would wish to speak to the Princess Eleanor somewhat urgently.”

“Have your bath first, my brave young knight” smiled Jadabal leaving the room quickly but winking impishly at him.

Guy did as he was bidden. The feel of fresh water on his body was a balm in itself. The aches and pains that he had suffered in his journey South gradually seemed to subside. It was sheer Heaven by comparison with the exertions of the last few weeks, fighting on behalf of John Lackland. Guy nodded appreciatively when Melissa came in and left some sweetly smelling towels for him. It was like being in another World, a glorious World at that.

“Is everything alright for you, Sir Guy?” enquired Melissa. “The Princess Eleanor will be with you shortly.”

“Fine, as always I am appreciative of the kindness you have shown me. It is almost like old times being back in Corfe Castle.”

Melissa bowed demurely and with a coy smile left the warrior to his bath. There was little for it but for de Buissant to ensure that he was as clean as was humanly possible. His mission seemed to have come to a halt at least momentarily and all he could do was to bide his time.

“Well, well my troubadour and former squire. Please do not rise I am not such a stickler for convention.”

Guy looked-up from his ablutions to see the Pearl of Brittany directly in his line of vision. She wore a loosely-fitting gown which even hugged carelessly about her body could not disguise her exquisite figure.

“Madam” responded Guy. “Your uncle, our Lord King John is dead. He passed away but a few days ago in great agony at the Bishop of Lincoln’s castle at Newark.”

“My God!” spluttered Eleanor “he had the constitution of an ox. How in the Devil’s name did the old satyr manage to die. My Uncle was a vigorous man, a hard driving difficult man at times, but a formidable King for all that. I suspect foul play here. The last I heard he was sweeping all before him, full of fierce anger and steely determination. How do you see his death, Guy?”

“A great impediment to the Nation, Eleanor. It took me by surprise but the King treated his own health with reckless abandon. Instead of cosseting himself he aggravated the grinding stomach pains and the dysentery and ate and drank as if there were no tomorrow. Still a youngish man, older than his brother Richard when he died but nevertheless not quite 50 years old.”

“Yes but older than his brother my father Jeffrey when he died” mused Eleanor.

“Too true, my Lady” resumed Guy “but have you thought of the succession? They plan to make your cousin Henry the new King.”

“As was to be expected” commented Eleanor.

“Madam, could you consider wearing the diadem? Many would prefer to see you on the throne rather than a pasty-faced boy.”

“Guy, Guy are you speaking as one of my lovers or as a detached spectator of the current political scene?”

“Madam” resumed Guy ignoring Eleanor’s amused comment. “Please allow me be to the first to salute you as the Queen of England.”

“Well Master Guy” smiled the Pearl. “We will see about that. First get out of that bath and come over here and inspect your future monarch at first-hand. If I pass muster as a lover then we shall see if I decide to move up a step to mistress of the English.”

In a typical dramatic gesture Eleanor flung off her robe revealing her nubile charms to the young knight. Almost hypnotically he obeyed her commands and trailing water advanced towards her. With considerable hilarity she grasped him round the waist and pulled him to the ground. Locked in the Princess’s arms Guy forgot his present dilemma, the troubles and concerns of the last few days seemed to fall into place, in essence of no account compared with enjoying Eleanor’s charms.

“I like you when you are frothy and wet” laughed Eleanor.

“As always at your command, my lady”

“Or possibly your Queen?” enquired the Pearl arching an eyebrow at the former squire.
De Buissant felt all the old ardour returning. The battles and skirmishes against John’s enemies had concentrated his mind over-much on affairs of State. Now exposed to the charms of the angel of Brittany he realised that there was much more to life. The water dripping from his body found part of its new location on the Princess whose skin seemed to glow even more alluringly. Guy let his hands explore the cool warmth of her shoulders and neck, the sheer exhilaration of her actively moving body totally unnerving him. Almost as if he had been taken-over by a force outside of himself, he felt his lips seer hard onto those of the Princess. His legs moved frantically along those of the beautiful young woman, what glorious silky indeed silken legs they were designed by a thousand Godly artists from another existence. He felt his body turn with that of his lover as their throbbing impulses of soul and spirit mated together in a fantasy of catyclismic joy. Guy stared deep into Eleanor’s dark brown eyes and felt himself sucked into a time warp, everything felt unreal yet at the same time nothing previously in his life had made such an impact on his senses.

“So what are your plans for me, my dear boy?” purred the Princess.

“Plans? Oh yes” moaned de Buissant “I knew that I had come here for some well-defined purpose.”

“You intrigue me Guy. I have been thinking while we were locked in our embrace. God, you have to exercise the mind at such times it gives you something to do” continued Eleanor wrinkling her nose and sticking out her tongue in playful mood “but to be serious, yes I feel that I have served the King well. I’ve done my duty by him, damn it man so have you. In fact I’ve no responsibility to my young cousin Henry. What a prat of a ruler he will make. A waddling goose or a splay-footed duck would be a better choice if you ask me. If you have a fool-proof plan and no-one suffers, unnecessarily loses their life then I will treat your request with consideration.”

“I will be honest with you Eleanor, our good friend de Mauléon will not be with us. He feels obliged to the son of his old master. That is the biggest blow of all he would have carried considerable weight in our campaign.”

“Savary would have been a good ally I agree” responded the Pearl. “What of Fawkes de Breauté and his Flemish mercenaries, we need to know where his loyalties lie?”

“Agreed, I’ve had little dealings with him I must confess.”

“Well it’s all very well having high ambitions for me but apart from Melissa, Jadabal and yourself what support have I got? The last thing that we want to do is get involved in some half-baked escapade. You’ve got guts, Guy my boy, and a number of other attributes but you are far too impulsive. It would have been better to have assessed the position first and then selected a time to move when more appropriate later.”

“My Lady I do have a good idea inspite of what you say.”

“Well spit it out man, you are beginning to look a trifle ridiculous dripping water standing there in your birthday suit.”

“No matter” resumed Guy ignoring the young woman’s banter “I am liaison officer for Rolf de Claimont ad his outlaw band. They have created havoc amongst the King’s enemies including Prince Louis and his Frenchmen. What they have achieved against the odds there they can achieve against other opposition as well.”

“You may have the germ of a good idea there” mused Eleanor. “The day is advancing fast and dusk will be on us soon. A journey into the depths of a forest is fraught with dangers at the best of times. Let us have a good night’s rest, or in your case should we say a good knight’s rest” added the Pearl showing her lovely white teeth in a full throated laugh “then let us make an early start to have our discussions with de Claimont.”

“I would subscribe to those views Eleanor” responded de Buissant thoughtfully. “In the mean time let us behave as normally as possible and maintain something of a low profile.”

Athelfreda moved quickly back from the canopied side-door entrance which she had approached, quite innocently, only moments before. She had not heard all of the conversation but enough to realise that the Pearl and her former squire may be about to bite off more than they could chew. More importantly from her point of view she did not want to see her friend Rolf sucked-up into some dangerous scheme with little hope of success.

William Longsword had departed Corfe a few days ago. However, he might
not have been the best person to confide the news to. He was a good man all in all but he would probably have taken the side of Young Henry and been rather severe on anyone seeking to prevent that young boy ascending the throne. Even more incredible to Athelfreda was the fact that King John was dead, he seemed capable of living many more years, what a calamity.

The young woman was in something of a torment to say the least. As she walked briskly down the corridor she kept asking herself what she should do. A conference with Rolf before Eleanor and Guy got to see him would be invaluable. However, how was she to get to see him and who amongst the Castle guards could be relied upon to ask as her guides? She thought desperately of the personnel within the confines of the fortress. They were all good people but all thought the World of Eleanor they would never do anything against her wishes. What a mess this all was, staunch and kind people involved in a maelstrom of certain disaster. How could Eleanor and Guy have persuaded themselves that there was any future in their madcap plan. Athelfreda ironically agreed in her own mind that Eleanor would make a better Queen than young Henry would a King. Still wishing was one thing, political realities were another, England had had its fill of warring and internal factions. What was needed now was unity and peace, and after all there were still the French to be accounted for.

“The Lady Athelfreda?”

The young woman was shaken out of her reverie by a swiftly spoken comment. She looked-up to see a rough-looking peasant staring straight at her. He was well-built and inspite of attempts to disguise the fact had an air about him that suggested someone of breeding. The unshaven appearance and ragged clothing somehow looked out of place and did not tally with his crisp modulated speech.

“Yes, but how do you know me?” responded Athelfreda.

“I saw you on a number of occasions with the Earl of Salisbury, my lady. I am Sir Simon of Norwich, here on an important mission.”

“How can I help you, Sir Simon? To be truthful I am in need of advice and counsel myself. I fear that Sir Guy de Buissant and the Lady Eleanor intend to mislead my friend Rolf de Claimont. There is talk of taking the crown - do you know that
John is dead?”

“Yes, yes” replied Simon “It would appear that I am ideally placed to lend you my assistance. I have followed the good Sir Guy deliberately to keep him out of trouble. He has a hot, passionate nature and needs friends to cool his ardour. I am not here alone, in fact I suggest that we make tracks to see your Rolf and warn him of de Buissant’s hare-brained scheme.”

Eleanor of Brittany and Guy de Buissant as planned waited until the morning before embarking on their foray into the forest where de Claimont and his band were lodged. They took a leisurely breakfast and with deliberation set-out accompanied by just a few retainers. Guy had calmed down and outwardly appeared influenced by if not exactly imbued with Eleanor’s clear-eyed circumspection. The journey was as expected fraught with difficulties. How anyone could imagine that there was anything romantic or idyllic about an English forest was beyond reason. When the fitful October sun deemed to shine producing shimmering cascades of light reflecting on the fast fading Autumn leaves there was an element of gaiety in the surroundings. This was, however, quickly dispelled when the small party became aware of the bitingly cold wind cutting through their thin court clothes little protected by the stylish cloaks they wore to provide only minimal protection against the elements.

“This journey seems unending” voiced Eleanor. “It is certainly a circuitous route towards a crown. How many of my predecessors had to put up with this? None at all I would surmise.”

“I have a feeling that Rolf will find us first, my Lady” suggested Guy. “Little can happen here without his being well informed. As we speak now there are doubtless eyes watching us from a number of locations.”

“Was this such a good idea after all?” mused the Princess.

“Have patience Eleanor” responded de Buissant. “Something will happen before long.”

In fact the trek through the undergrowth continued uneventfully for some time. It seemed like hours but could not have been that long. Nevertheless even Guy the supreme optimist that he was, was starting to have second thoughts. Was his plan ill-thought out? With hindsight he had probably bitten off about fifty times more than
he could chew! His friendship with de Mauléon was at risk. In any escapade or any situation for that matter the support of the staunch mercenary captain was well-nigh essential. Technically that gallant gentleman was now on the opposite side to himself. God, if only he had thought this through a bit more, no a lot more. He had risen well under King John, why had he suddenly got hopelessly involved in high politics? Glancing sideways he realised that his promptings were as much of the flesh as the mind. If only Eleanor had not had such a delectable sweet smile and such an alluring charm. Her full-bodied warmth would set most men’s hearts a tingle. Yet de Mauléon had known her exquisite beauty as well, had tasted the joy of her voluptuous form and yet had separated his recreational interests from the cool reasoning of his mind. Even he must have been impressed by the woman’s mind nonetheless. Most people who had met Eleanor commented on the sharp intellectual gifts which she possessed. Even her late uncle John Lackland, had valued her sagacity and realised her worth. Only a dullard or an ale-sot would refuse to acknowledge that the Princess was a better proposition than her young cousin Henry. Was there no satisfying some minds?

An arrow with lightning speed sped its way through the air embedding itself in a stout tree trunk some ten yards away from Guy. The young paladin sought to pull at his horse’s bridle to control the natural reaction of the beast who started to twist and paw the ground in some anxiety. In a matter of seconds green-clad figures sprang-out from almost every point of the forest. The small group did not exhibit too much surprise given that they had achieved their initial ambition of establishing contact with Rolf’s band of officially approved outlaws.

“Is Rolf de Claimont here amongst you?” demanded Guy quickly dismounting and throwing the reins almost negligently to one of the approaching archers.

“I am here Sir Guy de Buissant” exclaimed an athletic figure striding through the green ranks.

“Thank God for that I would have a serious conversation with you about the weal and safety of this great Country of ours.”

“I am at your leisure good Sir Guy” smiled Rolf “follow me a little until we reach an appropriate location.”

De Buissant heaved a huge sigh of relief. Matters seemed to be improving by the moment. De Claimont had a likely bunch of lads with him. He knew for certain that Friar Scarlett would be among them, a canny fighter was he, a great man to have in a struggle.

“One point I would make before we go much further” confided Rolf.

“Indeed what is that?”

“Quickly lads seize Sir Guy and bind him fast. Gentle with the Lady Eleanor now but escort her and also persuade those armed retainers with her that discretion is the better part of valour.”

Guy had virtually no time at all to react. In a trice strong, firm hands were on him and very expeditiously he was bound tightly and dragged along a few yards to be placed in front of Rolf.

“Is this madness de Claimont?” spluttered Sir Guy. “Is this how you treat honoured guests? I am, after all, your liaison officer here acting between you and the King’s Grace.”

“Indeed, indeed!” rasped de Claimont “Which King is this you speak of. John, of blessed memory, or if not blessed then of fiercely effective Plantagenet memory, is dead as you know.”

“A technical matter” snapped de Buissant. “Have you taken leave of your senses, man? Unbind me now!”

“You have taken leave of your senses de Buissant” barked Rolf “You are seeking to overthrow your liege and rightful King.”

“Why so?” muttered de Buissant. “How are you privy to my thoughts? In any case who is acclaimed monarch now that John lies dead? Do you favour a pale-faced simpering boy as his successor?”

“Even so Henry was proclaimed as John’s successor on the latter’s death-bed.” This was a different voice the words spoken lightly but with authority.

De Buissant turned to see the beautiful form of Athelfreda standing in the forest. How had she got here? His consternation turned to unbelief when he beheld the staunch form of Sir Simon of Norwich alongside her. What plot was this? Life was not what it had been barely a few minutes before!
“I accidentally overheard your plans” was the only comment offered by Athelfreda.

Guy struggling with his bonds looked helplessly in the direction of the Pearl. God what had he led her into?

“My dear de Claimont, surely you are a man who knows the worth of most things?” These were Eleanor’s first spoken words since the arrest of Guy.

“You flatter me my Lady.”

“No, no, indeed not. You are a man who has lived and knows the price of everything, someone who can judge well. Look on me and tell me honestly and without elaboration that I am less worthy to wear England’s crown than wey-faced Henry.”

“You are a fine woman my Lady” admitted Rolf. “But if justice and honour and integrity, real justice, real honour, were adhered to the World would be a different place. In another context you would doubtless be a notable Queen. As it is, Henry is the choice of the great lords and also his late father’s choice.”

“Rolf de Claimont” retorted Eleanor with considerable spirit. “Does not the man in you cry out against this injustice? Help set me on the throne and nothing that you would wish would be denied you. In John’s reign you unjustly had your spurs struck, I would restore you not only to knight-hood but to higher glory. I would welcome firm, staunch men such as you around me.”

“I am sorry” smiled Rolf “I am too old for adventuring of this sort, adventuring where the result could only be disaster. You will be made comfortable here, my Lady, and treated with every courtesy, but, for the moment, you are our prisoner.”

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