CHAPTER SEVEN

Eleanor of Brittany stood alongside Guy de Buissant as they listened to the comments of King John Lackland. The English monarch, on balance, was pleased with their efforts at building bridges between his position and that of the baronial rebels. With Stephen Langton, Archbishop of Canterbury and the heroic William the Marshal, grey with honour and great with achievement to follow-up the situation must obviously be that much the better. John wondered to himself why he had not recognised the potential of his niece before, she was wasted really at Corfe Castle, all that beauty and intelligence and fiery Angevin spirit going to waste. It would be worthwhile thinking of some additional work for her to undertake that required a sharp mind and a plentiful dash of courage and persistence. Yes she was some girl, although not surprising really considering that she was related to him!

“Well my girl” mused the King “you have performed passably well in our service, we will see what else we can give you to our weal and advancement. In the meantime take some sustenance here and indeed stay the night, the day is drawing in and I would not wish to see my favourite niece the victim of some clod-hopping vagabond. Inspite of my firm government a number still patrol the land on the lookout for a wealthy purse or other rich pickings. The invitation to stay also extends to the brave squire here de Buissant.”

“Sire I am indebted to you for your concern.”

“I’m sure you are” grinned the King “I will think of some suitable reward for you, you could after all advance further in my service.”

The two adventurers bowed themselves out of the King’s presence and each went their separate ways, the Pearl of Brittany to rather more luxurious quarters than the brave squire. Eleanor had in her company the dark-haired, green-eyed Brythech a favourite of the King. There had been so many, thought Eleanor, Sussanah seemed to burn brightly and was pretty central to John’s life. But the King was quite liberal in his preferances, he seemed capable of maintaining a number of attractive women at the same time. She heard that the King’s first wife was a sensible, intelligent woman, this second one Isabella of Angeloume was younger than John and dazzlingly beautiful, an astute cerebral individual, alive to the ways of the World. She
undoubtedly knew the score but was not too concerned - John never seemed to tire of her. Well Eleanor’s uncle certainly had stamina and was obviously capable of being loyal to a great number of women. There had been some direct results of these dalliances, two of them, Jeffrey and Richard, had been very useful to their natural father in this time of troubles both having sensible heads on their shoulders. Eleanor was sure that John would have preferred either one to succeed him rather than the young wey-faced little brat, Henry, his legitimate heir. The boy seemed very devout even at such an early age and had little drive and passion in him which did not augur well if he were to become King.

“If my lady requires anything please let me know, I will not be too far away” announced Brythech as she pointed Eleanor to her room.

“Do you not also have other duties?” enquired the Pearl and then felt like biting her tongue at the undiplomatic tone of her question. Brythech blushed slightly but otherwise give no other outward sign of acknowledgement of the demands that the King might make on her.

“My lady has but to give the word and I will attend to her every need. Some exquisite jewellery that you wish placed upon you, assistance in dressing perhaps....”

“No my girl I am a very independent spirit living the life that I have been forced to lead has given me no other option.” With a dramatic but not unkindly move of the hand Eleanor dismissed Brythech and seating herself down on the most appropriate piece of furniture began to think deeply about the last few days.

Guy was at this time in rather more modest quarters but he had no reason to complain. He had played his part in some very interesting events, the full consequences of which would take time to analyse in depth. The Kingdom of England was going through a particularly rocky period and it needed men like him, he told himself with all his boyish self-confidence, to act whenever the opportunity presented itself. He had stood up well to the barons and felt, quite frankly, at least their equal. In fact he felt that most of the barons were a boring, swaggering, filthy bunch of ill-bred, semi-literate criminals. At least King John was very particular about taking regular baths, half the rebel barons stank to high heaven and as for their manners, spitting on the floor, belching in public, it made you sick just to be in their presence. Just as Guy
was developing his argument about the ills of the World, or at least the world that he knew, he heard a small hesitant knock at the door.

“Come in, don’t stand on ceremony whoever you are” responded de Buissant. At this clear invitation a relatively tall but slim, heavily robed, figure walked into the room. Although inside the newcomer appeared uncertain as to the next move and stood before Guy virtually motionless.

“Well, sirrah what have you to say for yourself? Who sent you and what is your message?” demanded the squire.

The stranger flung the cloak back and to Guy’s amazement the Pearl of Brittany stood before him. De Buissant’s eyes opened to their fullest extent to see the regal presence of the King’s niece in his room. Was this a dream, was it a total illusion, was it a product of his fevered brain? God only knew.

“My lady!” gasped Guy “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I am glad that you think of me with pleasure in your mind” laughed the Pearl “I am ever one to act on the spur of the moment, but I must confess that you have grown on me. Initially I thought of you as a bit of a pompous young sprig, able and intelligent maybe but lacking a bit of dazzle.”

“I am sorry if my lady finds me a dullard I but try to serve....”

“Oh don’t get all serious again I said that initially I thought of you as serious but over time I’ve begun to see your virtues, you’ve qualities that are all too rare in dangerous times, steadfastness, a nimble mind, kindness, and in your quiet but determined way, a nice sense of humour. You will do for me Guy de Buissant.”

“My lady what can I say?”

“The time for saying and talking can be suspended for the moment Guy, think of me not as an Angevin princess but as a red-blooded woman of some spirit.” Guy de Buissant could never imagine this happening even a few minutes ago, let alone a few hours back. The Pearl was amazing, he just could not predict what she would do next. In this instance there was no time for prediction Eleanor of Brittany was about to act very decisively. The niece of John Lackland turned on her heel and began to move about the room in peripatetic fashion then with great forthrightness almost pushed past the squire into the inner recesses of his quarters. Guy was flabbergasted but
moved as quickly as his shocked mind would allow to face the highly mobile princess. Where had she gone?

“Come over here and join me in the festivities, young man!” a voice of command rang out.

Lying on Guy’s bed supported on her elbows was the Pearl in all her glory. To Guy’s shivering sensations it was almost too much for her glory was totally unadorned, as natural as on the day of her birth, she fixed her deep big brown eyes on him, her body totally naked and unashamed. Guy opened his mouth as if to speak but could not register even a croak of acknowledgement. His knees felt as if they would buckle, was this a vision, a fantastic journey of the mind?

“Lie down beside me, squire!” commanded Eleanor “but you must not have an advantage over me your superior in rank - remove all your accoutrements, every stitch and piece of cloth, leave nothing to my imagination.”

With his hands shaking and amidst considerable fumbling Guy managed eventually to follow the princess’ instructions to the letter. He hesitated before joining the Pearl on what was actually his bed.

“Don’t look so tense, my would-be lover” laughed Eleanor “I have taken all the protective precautions. Being allowed more latitude in my way of life than the average princess I have learnt more of life than might otherwise be the case.”

Guy felt his temples burning, throbbing, his head was hammering as if there was no to-morrow. He must act now or regret his very inaction, or indeed if he acted too precipitately would he actually regret that. He looked straight at Eleanor with those big challenging brown eyes boring into him. In one bound he was at the princess’ side determined to do or die for Country.

Guy was not inexperienced but he sensed that Eleanor was superior in matters of sensual expertise. The Pearl twisted over onto her back and turning her face to de Buissant winked mischievously running her tongue along the side of her mouth. With considerable élan she stretched her right leg lifting it some 6 inches off the level of the bed. Guy smiled at her obvious dexterity as she arched her lovely, angelic foot with its beautifully manicured toe-nails. The squire quick to anticipate her demands leapt off the couch and grasping that same mesmeric foot placed his trembling lips
upon it. Advancing like some sinuous cat he moved his mouth upwards to caress Eleanor’s ankle then her beautiful, ever so long legs. God, he had not realised how long those legs were when she was clothed in all her finery. He was sure they were longer than his. His lips brushed the top of her thighs then with increasing and indeed increased urgency he flung his arms round her shoulders then twisting onto his back pulled the princess on top of him.

“Now Guy, now is the chance to possess your princess!”

Eleanor, in fact, took the lead as de Buissant would have anticipated. With obvious class and great expertise she lowered herself onto the excited squire. The waves and tides of passion flooded through his very being. This was the moment of truth, it had happened so no matter what transpired further the union of body and spirit had been indissolubly sealed. Guy reached up to grasp Eleanor’s beautiful shoulders, feeling the silky sheen of her immaculate skin, it was as if their bodies had joined together never to be separated. Amazingly inspite of the status of the Pearl, a royal, nay near divine princess the squire felt totally at home with her, it was a sensation of homely domesticity. Guy was becoming more vigorous yet at the same time by some paradox more relaxed.

“Let’s try something different now my brave young squire.” voiced a smiling Eleanor as she leapt off Guy and moving to his side indicated him to come on top of her.

“At your service my lovely princess” grinned de Buissant.

The squire was intrigued with everything that Eleanor was doing. She was certainly like no other woman he had known. As he fused with her she closed her eyes and stretched-out her left arm. Even with her eyes covered her face was a picture of animation an impish, indeed very mischievous smile was slowly creeping round her delicious mouth and full ripe lips. Guy stared appreciatively at Eleanor’s delicately shaped small ears, an obvious sign of breeding he had heard. Then all of a sudden those big brown eyes opened again and looked him straight in the face. He felt her pull him deeper and deeper into a swirling void of magical mysticism, a voyage through the shimmering skies of spiritual sensation. Physical and spiritual became as one as dream, fantasy and the reality of England in 1215 were no longer discernible.
The wonderful curved and shapely body of the Pearl had become the whole of his life. He could never imagine ever being without her bodily presence, such majesty yet such relaxed happiness, did he really deserve all this?

Guy felt himself moving back, ever so faintly, into the physical surroundings that he vaguely remembered was it a bare few minute before, an hour, heaven only knew. The soft, sweet moanings of the Pearl came to his ears as if part of a musical symphony being played in Paradise. There was a rhythmic driving force that had taken total charge of him as he seemed to transcend his environment once more. A build-up of great exciting tension and then an explosion the like he had barely sensed before. He flung himself to one side drained of energy but feeling deliriously happy, uproariously amused having touched upon an experience that no artist could paint, no musician could play, and no poet could describe even with the finest flow of language available to his quill.

It seemed an eternity that he laid there with his princess, at last he felt that he should make some move so kissing Eleanor’s forehead gently he got up from the bed and putting a robe round his shoulders made tracks for the door. The Pearl watched him with a look of wry amusement across her beautiful but mischievous face “Hell” she thought “has he forgotten that he is in his own room and it is I that am the visitor?!”

Evidently Guy had lost his orientation because he was walking quite contentedly into the corridor looking for a non-existent room presumably. As he wandered as in a dream his mind went back to his first great experience. The moment of grand passion with the Pearl had reawakened that unforgettable event. He had been praying in a church and was looking intently at a portrayal of Saint Mary Magdalen on the stained glass windows. The artist had somehow managed to capture the spirit of that renowned woman who had been the first to see Our Lord when he had risen from the Dead. Guy believed that until then he had never seen anyone so beautiful in all his young life. To his amazement Mary Magdalen started to move, was this some vision sent from God, or the effect of the hot sun streaming into the Chapel? He then realised that the perfection of womanhood he saw before him was a real flesh and blood human being who had chanced to be standing close-by. The similarity to the
Saint was uncanny nonetheless.

The young woman who now had his full attention put a finger to her lips and leading him by the hand escorted him from the Church into the bright sunlight. Guy was totally inexperienced then, more so than he had been with Eleanor. Mary of Magdala- he never knew her by any other name - looked him steadfastly in the face and with a chuckle in her voice enquired if he had seen her like before. Guy’s stammered “no” was followed by the vision pulling him cheerfully along a dusty lane into a freshly, newly cut field. Magdala seized Guy’s cloak and flinging it on the grass beckoned him to lie down. The young de Buissant was over-awed by his new companion who towered over him, being tall of stature but with the shapeliest figure imaginable and the darkest black hair. He felt compelled to obey. In a trice Magdala had stripped and somehow he was in a similar natural state. The adventurous young woman then gave him a lesson in life that he could never have learnt in a thousand clerical manuscripts. Before that time he had in the recesses of his mind harboured an interest in becoming a monk. His session with Magdala changed all that as he smilingly wiped the sweat from his brow. Almost instantly she had dressed blew him an affectionate kiss and tripping merrily along the rough - hewn path disappeared out of his life. He would, however, never forget her because she has left a lasting impression on him, this had been an event in his life that would stay carved deep in his mind, to be brought forth and glowingly examined and rejoiced in forever.

“Guy de Buissant, am I right in assuming that you have had difficulty in sleeping?”

The squire blinked, stung back into the present. Before him was the King’s recent mistress Brythech obviously having just left the arms of her royal master. Already with the effects of heightened passion still upon him, he could appreciate the tall girl’s dark, green eyed beauty. De Buissant continued to stare at the Celtic lady noting the light perspiration on her face and that overall sense of fulfilment that seemed to pervade her being. In Guy’s view this was a good tell-tale sign of recent love-making.

“Young gentleman, are you speechless through lack of voice?”

Guy shook his head apologetically “Sorry I was day-dreaming”.

“A bit late to be day-dreaming with everyone abed.” smiled Brythech. “You are some way from your room. Had you come for a little consolation and contentment elsewhere?” The elegant brunette, with some dash and feel for drama, opened her robe to show herself naked to the squire. The latter grasped Brythech towards him allowing his cloak to slip revealing his firm hard body. Scarce had he begun to nuzzle his tongue in his new found friend’s ear when a slight cough brought him up short.

“Why my dear de Buissant art thou being familiar with as many young wenches as thou canst ere the morning light breaks upon us all?”

The squire turned to see the Pearl of Brittany glowering with impressive dignity. He had barely begun to frame a defence for his actions when the princess burst into gleeful laughter.

“Don’t worry my bonny adventurer” commenced the Pearl “I am not a jealous woman and have had my fill of lovers. It would be sheer hypocrisy on my part to scold you, but have you forgot the warmth of my arms?”

“A brief caress, my lady” confided Guy.

“Oh, such ungallantry, Guy, the delightful Brythech deserves rather more. I think my uncle would say so - don’t scorn a friend of the King.”

“Never mind” laughed Brythech “we were just embracing briefly to keep out the cold night air. I must be on my way back to my quarters. I’ll see you both in the morning, peace be unto you my lady - and, of course you as well Guy,”

“Well Guy” grinned Eleanor “quite an evening and early morning to boot for you. I think that you have been quite overwhelmed by it all. In fact, you left me in your room. I suggest you get back and allow me to return to my own chaste couch. We must cross lances again at some other opportunity. I enjoyed our spiritual mingling you have advanced even further in my estimation, my own true warrior and defender.” Planting a kiss on de Buissant’s cheek and waving a cheery “Bye, bye, bye” which threatened to wake the entire castle Eleanor skipped away giving the squire the brightest of her smiles. He felt ten feet tall, what a night to remember, what a princess to remember, life was very, very good.

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