Before Plantagenet - Chapter 15
September 1069, Anjou, France
Foulques sized up his opponent carefully.
Armed with sword and shield and dressed in mail, Foulques circled him, believing him to be on the defensive. He wanted the duke to attack.
He may wish for it, but I shall make him regret it has come true.
Foulques attacked. His sword struck his opponent’s wooden shield with a thud. The man slid out from under the blow and slashed. Expecting that, Foulques was able to evade the blow without blocking it. Instead he maneuvered around his opponent, and slammed him across the side of the head with his shield, sending the man’s helmet flying off.
With his opponent, crumbled to the ground, on all fours, Foulques brought his sword to the man’s neck.
“This round to me, Renaud,” Foulques said.
The duke raised his dull blade and allowed the mayor of Saumur to roll onto his rear. Renaud checked his head, but found no blood. He blinked quite a bit, however, seemingly dazed from the blow to the head.
“Did I hurt you?” Foulques asked as he offered a hand to Renaud. The mayor took it and pulled himself up.
“It stung,” Renaud said. “But I will be fine, both in body and pride. I thought I had you for sure, my lord.”
“You were close,” Foulques said. “On another day, perhaps.”
It had been another successful day of training for Foulques. He aimed to keep himself sharp for when he made his move against Vendome. It was no certainty there would be a war - Bouchaud might surrender without a fight. After all, the boy had no allies. Philippe would not interfere - he was off in Mallorca. All that would happen is the boy count would end up in Foulques’ prison.
But the duke was treating the situation as if the revocation of Vendome would result in a fight.
Better to be safe than sorry.
As Foulques and Renaud made their way back to the keep, they thought they heard a strange sound. Investigating, they found Lithuaise de Normandie by the kitchen, sobbing into her hands.
Normally, Foulques would have let her be. But Lithuaise was the woman he went to most frequently for updates on Beatritz’s condition, since as one of her ladies, she spent a great deal of time with her. He had to be certain nothing was wrong with his wife or the child.
“What is the matter?” Foulques asked her.
“Oh!” Lithuaise said as she quickly dried her eyes. “It is nothing my lord.”
“Do not be false with your lord,” Renaud said.
Lithuaise nodded. “The duchess is angry with me, my lord. That is all.”
“Why is she angry?” Foulques asked.
“I do not know,” Lithuaise said. “I wish to please her, but… no, I am sorry my lord. I will do better. It is not the duchess, it is my fault.”
Lithuaise quickly tried to hurry off. But Foulques stopped her.
“Lithuaise,” he said. “I will talk to her.”
“Please do not, my lord,” Lithuaise said. “That will only anger her further. And she should not be upset in her state. I will manage.”
As Lithuaise walked off, Renaud turned to the duke. “Something odd there, for sure.”
Foulques shook his head. “Nothing odd. She believes Lithuaise my lover.”
Renaud’s eyebrows rose. “Is it the truth?”
“It is not,” Foulques said. “But I have not shared a bed with Beatritz since she told me she was with child. It is a sin to do so.”
“Forgive my surprise my lord,” Renaud said. “You usually are not the most pious man.”
The comment was met with a sly smile. “I confess, I am not. I have been tempted, but as she grows more delicate, especially given her age, I do not wish to risk her health or the child.”
“A sound decision, my lord,” Renaud said.
“I believe the duchess disagrees,” Foulques said. “And she suspects it is an excuse for me to bed others. And she has always suspected Lithuaise.”
“I see,” Renaud said. “A difficult situation.”
“Needless aggravation,” Foulques said. “But what am I to do? As her belly grows so too does the duchess grow more paranoid. And the physician, Adalmode, says it is common for women as far along as the duchess is to be ill-tempered.”
The two continued on toward the keep’s main hall but were stopped by the Baron de Cholet.
“By your smile,” Foulques began, “I assume you have good news for me.”
“Aye,” the baron said. “By my count, we now have a levy of nearly 2,500 men. I believe we now have enough men to maintain a siege on Vendome should the boy resist your revocation.”
“Excellent.”
“I can have the men at the ready within the week. We can march on the keep at Lavardin and demand the boy’s surrender,” the baron said. “If all goes well, you will have Vendome by the end of the month.”
“We shall see,” Foulques said. “I will look over the plans we have drawn up and see if it is enough if the boy does not surrender.”
“If I might have a moment of your time in private my lord,” the baron said. “For another matter.”
Foulques agreed and told Renaud he would meet with him later. Then the duke and the baron walked to Foulques strategy room.
“What is this matter? Foulques asked.
“May I speak freely, my lord?” the baron asked. Foulques nodded. “I am concerned about you.”
“Concerned about me?”
“In my years of knowing you, even when we were both on your brother’s council, I have always seen you as a true knight,” the baron said. “You would throw yourself into all you do, unwavering, unflinching.”
Foulques could see where this is going. “In truth, I did waver. But I did not show it.”
“Aye,” the baron said. “And now you do.”
“You think me craven?” Foulques asked.
“No,” the baron said. “I know something restrains you. I am not sure what, but I know you have dealt with much of late. And I know you worry something will befall the duchess.”
“And you seek to tell me there is nothing to fear?”
“I am no soothsayer,” the baron said. “I have been fortunate to have two children with my wife - my daughter just a month ago. I will not tell you I had no concern. But I placed my trust God would deliver them safely. It was all I could do.”
“You hid your concern well,” Foulques said.
“I could not shirk in my duty to you, my lord,” the baron said. “As I will not now as I remind you of how much you have desired to take Vendome. You called in favors to gain the right to revoke the territory. You delayed aiding Duke Guilhem and risked your alliance to be ready to strike when the opportunity arose.”
“Perhaps I seek to make sure nothing can go wrong,” Foulques said.
“A wise course, in moderation,” the baron said. “But we are men of war, my lord. We know it is impossible to completely secure any goal by just preparation. Even if you assembled an army which no man could defeat, you could fall while mounting your horse and crack your skull open. Nothing is certain.”
Foulques chuckled.
“You remember I had reservations about this action,” the baron said. “But as your marshal, I set aside those reservations to aid in your plans coming to pass. Your plan is ready. You need not wait any longer. There will be no better time to strike. And, if the boy surrenders quickly, you may take your forces south and deliver the coup de grace on Count Hugues, earning some favor with Duke Guilhem as well.”
It was not a bad plan. The course of the war in the south had swung heavily in Guilhem’s favor, to the point where Foulques’ levy could win a fight with the rebels.
“You state your case well, my friend,” Foulques said. “Ready the men. We will make for Vendome once your preparations are complete.”
The baron bowed. “Thank you my lord. It shall be done soon.”
With that decided, Foulques knew he had to deliver instructions to those who would remain behind. While he hoped this would be quick, he had to prepare as if he would be gone for months.
Which meant there was only one person he had to see first.
Beatritz was not alone when he came to her chambers. Her ladies, with the exception of Lithuaise, were present, doing various tasks while the duchess knitted a blanket.
“Leave us,” Foulques ordered. The ladies gave a look to Beatritz, who motioned for them to depart.
“Is something the matter, husband?”
“I have decided to move against Vendome,” Foulques said. “We will leave as soon as the Baron de Cholet has prepared the men.”
“I pray it will not be long,” Beatritz said as she gently patted her belly. “I wish for you to be in Anjou when the child is born.”
Foulques sighed. “If it goes well, I will likely turn my attention south, to aid your brother.”
Beatritz’s eyes drifted away from him before she turned her gaze elsewhere. “I understand, husband.”
“While I am gone,” Foulques began. “I wish for you to rest. The steward is capable. He can handle the administration of tasks here.”
Beatritz’s head shot back up and toward him. “You… mean to let him run Anjou? Did I not do a capable job of ruling Tours in your stead while you fought Geoffrey?”
“You did,” Foulques said. “But I do not wish to endanger you or the child.”
The duchess furrowed her brow and pushed herself from her chair - or at least she tried. It was an awkward process as she hefted herself up the best she could with a fairly large belly weighing on her, as she twisted and contorted herself into an upright position. Foulques did all he could not to grin.
But Beatritz was in no joking mood as got close enough where on her tiptoes, her nose almost touched his.
“Ever since I have told you of this child, you have treated me as a prisoner,” Beatritz said. “You have confined me to my chambers. I have barely seen the sun in months!”
“Do you not have all you need?” Foulques asked. “Food, drink?”
“There is more to life than food or drink,” Beatritz said. She ran her hand on his cheek. “I have other needs, and desires. As you do, though I’m sure those have been taking care of.”
“I have told you,” Foulques said. “There is nothing between Lithuaise and myself. As for your desires, you know it is sinful for to share a bed while you are pregnant.”
Beatritz rolled her eyes. “It is also sinful to be a glutton, which you have called me before. It is also sinful to be slothful, which others have called me. And husband, I have never known you to follow the will of the church to the letter. You often take liberties with the teachings.”
“This is different,” Foulques said.
“Because you fear punishment from God,” Beatritz said.
“And you do not?” he asked.
“I do not pretend to know His will,” she said. “I just know I am lonely. I have not felt your touch in months. I only speak with my ladies and Adalmode when she checks in on me. I trade letters with your sister, and even she has more freedom in Bourges than I do, though she is further along!”
Foulques could see tears welling up in her eyes. While he didn’t wish for anything to happen to Beatritz or the child, he did not wish her to be miserable either. In truth, he had also suppressed his desires, both with Beatritz and with Lithuaise. The duchess was not wrong that he looked at her, but he had not touched her, though he wondered if that might still be more for fear of incurring the wrath of God than anything having to do with his vows.
Still, he could not risk giving into temptation, even with Beatritz, now. Too much was at stake - the revocation of Vendome. The child. Even the fate of a march south to aid Guilhem.
However, he could still throw her something - he did not forget his mother's warning to make sure to keep his wife relatively happy.
“I cannot solve that problem,” Foulques said. “However, I see it is foolish for me to not allow you any say in the duchy while I am gone. I would like you keep the steward close, so that you do not take on too much. Should you feel anything odd, you are to stop and go see Adalmode. Is that understood?”
“Of course husband,” Beatritz said as she wiped her face. “Thanks you.”
They embraced as he kissed her forehead, before giving one final pat to her belly.
When I return, hopefully you have given me a healthy son, he thought as he left her chambers.
