Queen Of Four Kingdoms, The (15 page)

Yolande can see that the child has relaxed a little, and ventures: ‘Catherine my darling, we have a surprise waiting for you.’ The little girl’s eyes begin to shine. ‘A pony – and some baby rabbits!’ And Marie adds at once: ‘You can choose which one will be yours and only you will feed him – would you like that?’ Yolande wants to hug her daughter for this sweet gesture. Catherine nods and her little face transforms at last. She is a pretty child, very small for her age, but Yolande can see already that she will grow into a beauty. The betrothal is still a bitter pill, but Catherine herself? Yolande and the children have taken her sweetness to their hearts.

Louis has decided that Yolande will return to Angers tomorrow with her suite, the children and her new charge. He too will leave tomorrow and take part of Catherine’s dowry south to Marseilles, to assemble his army and sail for Naples. Without any idea how long he will be gone and what kind of dangers he will face, Yolande has forced herself to accept his departure. He is a man who takes his own decisions, and does not always discuss his plans with her. She knows her role: take care of his children, rule his territory, and wait.
Patience and fortitude said Marie de Blois. Well, I have need of them now
.

Tonight, as every night, he comes to her room. Gien is a pleasant enough chateau, warm and well appointed and full of exquisite
objets d’art
chosen by Uncle Jean with his renowned taste. Her room has a large chimney piece and the fire will last all night. It is not home, but it is near enough, and it is kind of Louis’ uncle to have accommodated them so well in his absence. The bed is large and the mattress is comfortable.

‘Why so anxious, my love?’ says Louis as he takes her in his arms, brushing her hair from her face.

‘Why not?’ she replies softly. ‘I have believed since we met that I am your only lover; the one who rules your heart . . . as you have told me so often.’

He tries to kiss away her words, and whispers tenderly, ‘And so you are my darling, my dearest wife,’ but she breaks free.

‘No, sire,’ she says firmly, and he looks up, astonished at her tone. ‘For you have a mistress, and you are running from me to her.’ Louis looks at her in astonishment. ‘Yes,’ she says, low and hard, ‘it is true . . . Her name is . . . Naples.’ And with that she turns her head away and cannot help her tears.

Louis knows of her fears, just as she knows of his ambition. But they also both know that neither of them can change. This night he holds her fiercely, and makes love to her like a man possessed. And so he is – with her, but also with that kingdom she regards as her most dangerous rival.

Yet his parting from her the following day is as tender as she knows his heart to be. He takes her in his arms in front of the children and says:

‘Light of my life, you know of my ambition to rule again my kingdom in Naples and to have you there beside me. I go not only for myself, but for you and the children and for the future of our house. Be content, my dearest wife, on my behalf. Know that I am following my destiny as my father would have wished. I leave in your hands and your care all that I have, the most precious being you and the children. Keep all safe for me and await with joy my return, successful in my quest. I will write regularly – and all of you write to me!’ And he makes a cross on her forehead and on those of each of the children with his thumb.

Yolande bites her lip, which makes him smile – a quick stroke of her cheek with the back of his forefinger – and then he is in his boat and gone to meet his destiny. She waits for a backward glance, but there is none. He is already lost in his own world.

Back home in Angers, Yolande hears that when they collected Catherine at Gien, they just missed the arrival of her husband’s family. Was this by accident or design? She thinks hard but cannot be certain. Later that same day, she learns that Charles, the new young Duke d’Orléans, and his brother, sons of the slain Louis and her dearest friend Valentina, were the principal guests at Gien. They were accompanied by their supporters, among them some of the most powerful nobles in France. All were guests of the king’s senior uncle, Jean of Berry, their dear friend, who came with the party.

Why was my husband Louis not invited to join them, his closest family?
she wonders. It certainly seems strange.

All too soon Yolande discovers the purpose of that meeting at the chateau of Gien. It was a war party – a gathering of the highest in the land. Their purpose: to seek revenge for the assassination of Louis d’Orléans. Their plan: to find a means of eliminating his murderer, Jean of Burgundy. Since the Count d’Armagnac was the senior military figure among the group, the former Orléanists will henceforth be led by him and known as the Armagnacs. At first Yolande asks herself why her husband was not approached to join the family cabal. Then she realizes that Louis’ uncle Jean, among others there at Gien, knows of his burning ambition to reconquer Naples – and his need of Catherine’s money to make that possible. She surmises that, loving him as she knows they do, they were unwilling to present him with such a difficult choice.

Despite his family’s generous consideration, Yolande knows that Louis would have had no difficulty in making his choice.
Nothing
would have been allowed to stand in the way of his determination to conquer and rule again in Naples – more than determination, she knows now; it is an obsession.

A
ll Yolande can do is to wait, resigned and anxious, for news of his progress. True to his promise, Louis sends her regular packets full of descriptions of difficulties, of battles on the Italian mainland – some large but none definitive. The seasons come and go: spring and summer in Anjou, autumn and winter in Provence, always accompanied by the growing children lightening the heavy burden of worry and empty nights. Catherine has become an integral part of their lives, her sweet nature winning love on all sides. She worships young Louis, refers to him as ‘my future husband’ with giggles, and follows Marie like her shadow. The children are a blessed distraction from the packets from Italy which she receives with anxious foreboding, always containing descriptions of more small victories, and small defeats.

A year has passed and Louis’ army and navy have swollen to such a size that this enormous force needs more money than even Catherine of Burgundy’s dowry allows. Like her mother-in-law, Marie de Blois, before her, Yolande offers her jewels as an added guarantee. At least she has the comfort of Louis’ choice of second-in-command – Tanneguy du Chastel, a tough Breton captain who acted as his bodyguard in Naples during the years Louis spent there before their marriage. An Angevin, he returned with Louis, and, once they were back in Anjou, he came whenever he was summoned. Tall, strong as an oak, a chest like a barrel and a thick red beard, even his gruff voice is enough to frighten strangers. Tanneguy is well known as a wrestler among Louis’ bodyguard and heavy bets often placed on him to win – which, invariably, he did. When asked by Louis to accompany him on his visits throughout his territories, he always called at whichever of their castles they inhabited, and despite his rough appearance he learned courtly manners, always greeting her respectfully but amiably. There was something about him that she instinctively liked – from the first day she noticed him in Louis’ bodyguard as they left Arles for Tarascon, she felt she could rely on him and trust him. Tanneguy’s reputation among their soldiers is stalwart, and it comforts her to know that he has not left her husband’s side since embarking with him from Marseilles. Also, having been with Louis to Naples before, he knows what to expect.

Is she anxious about the outcome of this expedition on which so much depends? Yes, oh yes! She lives in fear and dread that her beloved husband might be captured, injured or, worse, killed. But what can she do? This is the path he has chosen and it is her role to support him with all her ability. And with her prayers! How she prays each day for his success and safe return. But even if he does succeed, surely he will
not
return; he will stay and rule, and what then? Will she be obliged to remain in France as his regent instead of sharing his throne in Naples? Yolande does not much care for either outcome, but she prays most fervently for his safety.

As the autumn turns chill in Anjou, and she prepares to leave for Provence with the children on their annual migration south, she finds herself faced with an inheritance problem of her own.

On the death of her childless uncle Martin, King of Aragon, as the next in line in accordance to her father’s will, Yolande proposes that her eldest son Louis be accepted as his heir in her place. Her son’s rival for the throne is Ferdinand of Castile, the thirteen-year-old son of an Aragon cousin. Despite his youth, he is already a successful cavalry officer, who has fought against the Moors. Louis is only eight, and the council of Aragon, faced with a lengthy regency in the case of her son, decide to give the throne to Ferdinand. Yolande feels cheated. As her father’s ablest, eldest and then only living child, she had always hoped that she would rule in Aragon one day, and if not her, then her son. For the second time she has been deprived of what she considers her rightful inheritance, but there is nothing she can do.

The weeks and months stretch over a year and it seems that the time passes both slowly and quickly – slowly because she longs for Louis’ return; quickly because she is constantly occupied, divided always between administering his estates and ensuring that the brood in her nursery, oldest to youngest, are being brought up as he would wish.

There are daily lessons for the older ones in the schoolroom. Louis and Yolande insist that they receive religious instruction from their dear house priest, Father Jean-Charles, that they hear Mass with them every Sunday and read the family’s Book of Hours (rather more than they care to). Louis and Marie are pious, but René is only interested in the music in church. Jean Dunois is cautiously religious – to please them, Yolande thinks – and little Catherine of Burgundy just follows Marie everywhere in silent adoration.

René loves the songs and lyrics sung by the minstrels who come to their court, and Yolande explains to the children how their inspiration comes from the troubadours, with their romantic tales of chivalry and of rescuing beautiful maidens from dragons. All the children love history, and that is usually the subject of their bedtime story. Marie is very attentive at her schoolwork, and so is Louis, but their cousin Jean Dunois is easily the cleverest of them all. How René hero-worships him! Catherine is adorable, never utters an unkind word and is the first to hug and give sympathy to the wounded, learning from Tiphane how to wash cuts and tie bandages. She is loved by them all and Yolande can see that she and Louis are already great friends and accomplices in some things, especially when he teaches her the finer points of schooling her beautiful ponies. To Yolande, she is as a second daughter, bringing her little bunches of flowers after a walk, painting pictures for her and doing everything she can think of to give pleasure. She has brought an extra ray of sunshine into their lives, and Yolande trusts that she can feel how much they all love her.

The spring of 1411 is late, but Yolande has received wonderful news that fills her with joy. Victory at last! Louis has defeated his cousin Ladislaus Durazzo in a definitive battle outside Naples and reconquered his kingdom! Oh, how she rejoices for him! She has trembled at the arrival of every courier, and agonized through Louis’ letters full of descriptions of battles on the mainland peninsula and endless negotiations. Now, this news of a definitive victory has made the endless anxiety worthwhile.

The children celebrate at home in Anjou, making costumes and restaging the final battle after dinner tonight, and Yolande has given all the staff a free day to toast their master, once again the ruler of Naples! All his dreams and the years of hope and prayer have come to fruition! Thanks be to God.

Weeks pass in the euphoria of achievement; then another letter arrives. It is not possible! Their celebration was premature. Louis’ victory was far from definitive, since Durazzo managed to retreat into the walled city of Naples and, by prolonging the campaign, has succeeded in bleeding Louis’ coffers dry. By August, Louis writes that he can no longer afford to support his huge army. Even though Yolande has promised her jewels as a guarantee, with frustration and great sadness he has been obliged to abandon his reconquered territories and sail for home. How she cries for her poor dear husband. So many hopes dashed again. The children have never before seen her weep and are tender in their concern, especially little René, who throws his short, fat arms around her legs and buries his curly red head in her lap. Drying her eyes, Yolande tries to explain things to them.

‘My darlings, I am not in pain or crying for myself. My tears are for your beloved father and his vanished dreams.’ But she is talking more to herself, as she can see they do not understand. How can they?

She determines to travel to Provence and meet Louis when he arrives in Marseilles – to console his wounded pride in her arms. They will all travel south together, and Tiphane can stay with the children at Tarascon until she and Louis come back there. Seeing her blond hero return defeated will be hard, and she will need Juana’s quiet strength to help her.

They meet on the pier at Marseilles. As Louis steps off the boat, she runs to embrace him. They need no words. Their tearful eyes say it all. With a lump in her throat, she notices how much this expedition has aged her handsome warrior, but says nothing. To have him near is all she wants.

‘How beautiful you look, my dearest,’ he says in greeting, and that brings her more tears since she is sure she does not.

‘You must be tired, beloved,’ she replies. ‘Stay and rest awhile with me here in Marseilles.’

They make for their large turreted palace in the port, magnificent with its towers of sandstone glowing in the sunset. She bathes him herself in her copper tub lined with a linen sheet, and pours oil of lavender into the water – the scent of their beloved Provence, to remind him of home. She watches as he closes his eyes and breathes in the aroma deeply. May it bring him happy memories, she prays silently. She does all she can to soothe him with her words, and tenderly massages the oil into his neck and shoulders. As the sea air is cool this night, they sit on cushions by the fire and drink the warm broth that Juana brings in to them. When she sees his eyes begin to close, Yolande leads him to the bed, where she holds him all night long. He sleeps without once moving.