Before Plantagenet - Chapter 13
October, 1068 - Melun, France
“It’s about time boy.”
Foulques looked up at the top of the stairs, outside of the main entrance to the castle in Melun. The old figure of Duke Robert stared down at him, his smug sense of satisfaction plastered on his face.
After months of delay, Foulques had finally decided to make his journey to pay homage to the teenage King Philippe. Accompanying him were a small group of knights and Renaud, the mayor of Saumur. There were also a few servants, tasked with carrying and presenting the king with two casks of wine from Anjou.
“You took your time in arriving,” Robert said. “The king expected you months ago. He grows impatient.”
Foulques rolled his eyes at the old man.
I delay a visit while you demean and plot against him, yet I am the villain, Foulques thought.
“Please beg my forgiveness of the king,” Foulques said. “I have been busy with cleaning up Geoffrey’s mess in Anjou.”
“We’ll see if the king is more tolerant of your excuses than I would be,” Robert said as he looked over Foulques’ party. “Ah, the mayor of Saumur. I hope you don’t hold any ill-will for the sacking. Business of war, you understand.”
Renaud narrowed his gaze. “I do, my lord.”
Robert snickered and turned back to Foulques. “I shall inform the king of your presence. He is holding court, but surely make time to finally see his wayward vassal.”
Foulques glared at his stepfather as he walked back into the hall. Incredibly, he seemed to have grown more pompous and arrogant as Philippe’s lap dog than he was as his troublesome vassal.
“You handled that well, Renaud,” Foulques said.
“And you as well,” Renaud said. “Duke Robert does not realize the times move forward. His star dims, while yours brightens.”
Foulques smiled at that thought, though he could not deny Robert’s alliance was still valuable. Duke Guilhem was the most powerful ally he could find in the realm. But if the situation turned sour, Foulques and Robert could potentially prove a match for him.
Foulques and his men followed Robert into the keep, where a large group had gathered as the king conducted his business. The crowd was large enough that Foulques could not get a view of Philippe. He soon heard him though.
“Throw him in the dungeons!”
The voice cracked as it delivered those words. Foulques was not surprised, given Philippe was just a young man of 16.
“Presenting Foulques, Duke of Anjou,” Robert called out soon afterward.
Foulques pushed his way through the crowd and finally got a view of the king. The handsome young man sat on a wooden throne, small metal crown around his head with his short brown hair falling just above his eyes. On his face, the makings of a beard had taken root, though it was still patchy in spots.
“The duke is here to pay homage to you, my king,” Robert said. “After much delay, for which he begs your forgiveness for.”
Foulques did his best to ignore Robert’s smirk. Instead, he stepped forward and at the base of the steps, dropped his knees, raised his hands and lowered his head. “I have come to pledge myself to you as your man, my king, from this day forward.”
Philippe rose up and stepped forward, with Foulques sneaking a peek at the young king. He was tall, perhaps even taller than the duke himself. However, he was thin, with his robes hanging loosely off him. The king clasped Foulques raised hands.
Foulques continued: “I swear to be good and faithful to you, and the faith, upholding its tenants as you would it, as I serve you, my king.”
Philippe then pulled him up, before giving him a kiss.
“I accept your pledge, Foulques of Anjou,” Philippe said. “I am honored you would serve me.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Foulques said. “And please accept this gift - wine from the duchy of Anjou.”
The servants hurried forward and brought forward the casks. Philippe gave a nod and then motioned for some of his servants to take it.
“Your kind gesture is most appreciated, Duke Foulques,” Philippe said. “Now, please, return to the others. I have more business to attend to, but I would like a word in private once the day’s business is done. It shall not be long.”
Foulques nodded and returned to the gallery. Renaud nudged him.
“A private word with the king,” the mayor of Saumur said. “Could be of great import.”
Arms crossed, Foulques wasn’t so sure. There were any number of ways this meeting could go. Given the choice, Foulques would have preferred to stay out of the king’s eye until he was stronger. But given both Robert and Guilhem’s conversations, that was perhaps a pointless dream. He was the Duke of Anjou now with the only man above him the King of the Franks - he had to be prepared for all that came with that.
…..
A short time later, Philippe and Foulques walked alone through the keep’s hallways. The king had conducted a few more matters, and then had ended court for the day. He summoned Foulques at once and the two had left those in the hall behind, with Robert looking a tad frustrated to be cut out of the loop.
“I am pleased to finally meet you,” Philippe said as they walked. “I admit, I was concerned you thought ill of me, with how long it took for you to arrive.”
Foulques lowered his head slightly. “Forgive me, my king. I have had much to deal with in Anjou. Administering a freshly conquered duchy takes more than I had expected.”
“I can sympathize,” Philippe said. “I have found the management of the kingdom no simple task.”
You manage a smaller demesne than I do in Anjou, Foulques thought.
“My lords,” Philippe said. “They are an independent bunch. All with their own interests and opinions. One even fancies himself a king!”
Philippe showed Foulques to a large room. Judging by the large map across a table, it was a strategy room. The king poured himself out a drink, and did the same for Foulques.
“A gift from that so-called king,” Philippe said. “Ale. He says it is all those Saxons ever drink.”
Foulques took the cup and looked the liquid over. “I should hope you have had a taster sample this, my lord. I would not trust the Bastard.”
“I appreciate your concern,” Philippe said. “I am young. But I am not stupid.”
The king raised his glass to Foulques, who responded in kind and took a drink.
“Yes, my taster only grew mildly ill,” Philippe said. “He did not die.”
Foulques’ stomach sank as a chill ran down his spine. The teenage king laughed.
“I jest, I jest!” Philippe said. “I assure you, it is perfectly fine.”
Foulques raised an eyebrow as his breathing slowly returned to normal.
“In truth,” Philippe said. “I am pleased you have come at this time. My uncle speaks highly of you, as does Duke Guilhem. As you might know, having them agree on anything is quite rare.”
Foulques had to smile at that. “Too well, my king.”
“They speak to your talent on the field of the battle,” Philippe said. “That you are an able leader of men and have a fine grasp of strategy.”
“I know not if that is true, my king,” Foulques said. “I merely did what I had to.”
“Modesty does not become you Duke Foulques,” Philippe said. “There is no need to be false with me. A good commander must believe himself equal to no man on the battlefield. Do you think Duke William of Normandy thinks any man can best him?”
“No,” Foulques said.
“Tell me, do you think you can best him?” Philippe asked.
“I… I do not know my king,” Foulques said. “But I would be honored to have the opportunity to test myself against him.”
Philippe smiled and raised his cup toward Foulques. “Now there is the truth of it. Most men say they wish they could face William. But few truly believe it. You, Foulques, you, I believe truly does wish to test yourself against him. Whether it is because you want glory, or simply Maine, I am not sure. But it does not matter, does it?”
Foulques did not respond. Either his stepfather or Duke Guilhem must have mentioned his desire to reclaim the county to the king. Possibly both. What else had they told him?
“I must… commend you on convincing your uncle to serve you,” Foulques said. “I was surprised when I learned of it. I thought he believed himself to be the proper king.”
“He still does,” Philippe said. “But my uncle is old. And most in the realm do not trust him. In truth, Robert has a claim. But that is all he has.”
Foulques smirked at that. He wondered what Robert would say to such things.
Probably a profanity-laced tirade and liberal use of the word “boy”. But would he do much beyond that? Foulques was not sure. With Geoffrey gone, Robert, for all his bluster, might now have become the weakest Duke in the realm, at least when it came to the number of men he could raise.
“And Duke Guilhem?” Foulques asked.
Philippe laughed. “The Duke is a wise man. Why else would I have entrusted him to lead my armies? I am eagerly watching to see how this Count Hugues matches wits with he. I hear they trade victories as they lay siege to each other’s keeps. Speaking of which… I am surprised you are not there alongside your wife’s brother.”
“My levies require time to recover,” Foulques said. “I will join him in time. ”
“For selfish reasons, I am happy to hear you say such things,” the young king said. “I have a request to make of you, Duke Foulques.”
“What do you need of me, my king?” Foulques asked.
“I plan a war,” Philippe said. “I need commanders to lead that war.”
Foulques eyebrows rose. “You seek to reclaim Normandy?”
Philippe shook his head. “William is a tempting target. His Saxons chafe under his rule. But, no, I look to the south.”
His fingers scanned the map, stopping on the island Mallorca.
“The Muslims here are weak. We could seize the island, and it could be a launching point by which we move into Iberia, or Africa,” Philippe said. “And, unlike with William, I will not draw the attention of the Pope.”
Foulques did his best to withhold a sigh. He wanted a chance to clash with William. He thought for sure that’s what Philippe was building toward. Instead, a war in the Mediterranean? Where was the glory in that?
“I see, my king.”
“Duke Foulques, you have turned me down before because you led your men in a war of your own,” Philippe said. “I understood. But now, you sit in your keep. Come with me to the south. Together, we’ll lead our knights to glory in a holy war for the cross.”
Foulques ran his hands through his hair. This is not what he wanted. He desired to prepare for a war with Vendome. He also did not wish to leave Beatritz, as he knew his time to produce a son with her was running short.
But could he really refuse the king again? He had a viable excuse last time. He also was turning down a boy that technically was not fully king yet. Now, despite him being not much older, he was the King of the Franks. And he was also standing before him.
“I… am honored my lord,” Foulques said. “But I cannot.”
Philippe’s smile melted away. “You… cannot?”
“I plan a war myself, my king,” Foulques said. “And I would trust no one but myself to execute it.”
“You would refuse your king’s call?” Philippe said. “Remember the pledge which you just gave.”
“I remember it, my king,” Foulques said. “I will provide you with the levy that I am bound to. Perhaps a few more knights as well for how you have treated me. But I cannot join them, or you, at this time.”
“Being named a commander is a tremendous honor,” Philippe said. “I thought you a man seeking glory. Perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps we
all were.”
“I understand your anger, my king,” Foulques said. “But--”
“I am not angry, Duke Foulques,” Philippe said. “I am disappointed.”
The young king looked down at the map before him, then lifted his head. “But I am no tyrant. I will not force you to join me. If you wish to battle children instead of dangerous heathens, that is your choice.”
The dig stung. But what could Foulques really say in response?
“Thank you for your understanding, my king,” was all he could muster.
“Well then, Duke Foulques,” Philippe started, “I believe there are a few other matters that require my attention. I have to plan a war, and my Marshal has not yet arrived back from Aquitaine. I hope to have some ideas for him to see when he does. I had hoped to have your feedback, but, I can see it is not your concern.”
Foulques did not need to be told anymore. He got the hint.
“I pray for your success in this endeavor, my king,” Foulques said.
“And I pray for you, Duke Foulques,” Philippe said.
Foulques turned to leave.
“One more thing!” Philippe said. Foulques stopped. “Before I depart for the south, I plan to recognize the Duchy of Orleans. Are you aware the county of Vendome is considered, by some, to be part of that domain?”
Foulques felt a chill run down his spine.
“I was not,” Foulques said. “Do you declare intentions, my king?”
Philippe shrugged, but maintained a sly grin. “I have other intentions, as I have told you. But I cannot speak to what intentions in the future will bring.”
Arrogant little welp, Foulques thought.
“We shall see then, my king,” Foulques said. “I shall take my leave if there is nothing more.”
Philippe waved him out, leaving Foulques to wander the halls of the palace in a slight daze. The king seemed as knowledgeable as Duke Robert had said. There was potential in the young man - and being an enemy of a king, even a weak one, was not something Foulques desired.
But, the fact remained, he still was not strong. His demesne was little more than the Ile de France and Orleans. He relied on Duke Guilhem to keep his vassals at bay… and Foulques still maintained his alliance with Duke Guilhem and Robert...
“Gather the men,” Foulques told Renaud as he found him in the keep.
“My lord… we do not stay, at least the night?” Renaud asked.
“Nay, instead we will make quickly to Paris,” Foulques said. “There will be more for us in the city than there would be in this keep. We shall have an enjoyable night, then make for Anjou in the morn.”
Renaud nodded. “I will gather the men at once.”
Foulques sighed as he watched his man head off. He remembered Armauy’s words from the year before. Philippe did not make such offers out of charity. Nor did he make threats lightly. He wanted Fouqlues to serve him. That would not change.
But there would be backlash - even if Philippe himself was limited in what he could do.
The path remained clear. Foulques needed to continue to strengthen himself, anyway he could, as quickly as possible.