Before Plantagenet - Chapter 3
October 1066 - Tours, France
Foulques d’Anjou could barely believe what he was seeing and hearing.
“Then it stands,” Chancellor Andre said. “By a vote of 4-2, the council stands opposed to revolt against Duke Geoffrey.”
The count of Tours was speechless. He was prepared to mobilize his army immediately following the session of his council. He had even instructed his marshal, Leon, to be ready as soon as the vote was taken. It was to be a mere formality.
Instead, Leon was the only supporter Foulques had on the council for war. Chancellor Andre, Mayor Guilhem the steward, Adrien and Bishop Berenger all stood opposed.
“This is an outrage!” Foulques said. “After all of our planning, you would stand against this just action?”
“Is rebellion against one’s brother ever a just action?” Andre asked.
Foulques saw the other councilors nod to Andre’s words. The count had half a mind to take them from the main hall and throw them all in the dungeons, but thought better of it. He would likely need these men to further his long-term goals. There had to be a way around this mess. Surely some of these lowborn men could be brought to his side…
“We shall adjourn for an hour,” Foulques said. “Then we will discuss the matter again.”
“I think we have discussed this matter enough,” Andre said.
“
I am your Lord,” Foulques said. “And
I will decide when we have discussed the matter enough.”
The six men vacated the hall, but Foulques pulled his steward, Mayor Guilhem of Amboise, aside and told him to follow to the count’s chambers.
.....
“They are not convinced this is the right action,” the mayor said as he took a cup of wine from the count. “Myself included. We attack a weak enemy, one who is your brother. It will appear dishonorable.”
Foulques rolled his eyes and sat at the small table across from the steward. “Meanwhile that weak enemy makes us all weaker. Listen to yourself – if he is so weak I could defeat him, what chance would he have against William the Bastard? Or Duke Guilhem? Or Thibault de Blois?”
“Andre argues that your alliance with Duke Guilhem should keep him at bay,” the steward said. “As for the Bastard? His war in England appears to have begun well. Andre believes that the King would not allow him to expand his possessions in our realm if he should succeed there.’
“Andre? Andre is a short-sighted fool,” Foulques said. “He argues for others to protect us. If a liege lord cannot protect his charges, then he is unworthy of his title.”
“Your points are fair,” the steward said. “I think I need more time to think on it.”
“Every moment we wait,” Foulques said. “Our task may become more difficult. Now is the time to strike!”
The mayor sighed, but did not disagree. However, he did not agree either.
“You may try to convince the others,” the steward said. “But Adrien hopes for a solution that does not involve war. Berenger, I believe, would back you. But Andre has gotten a favor from him to back him on this matter.”
Foulques knew what his steward was getting at. He leaned forward on the small table and grumbled: “If you support me on this matter, it will not be forgotten in the future.”
The steward looked up. “Having the favor of a count… nay… Duke, could be quite valuable.”
“Then you’ll back me when we reconvene?” Foulques asked.
“Aye,” the mayor said. “I have… my reservations, but I will support you.”
“Good,” Foulques said. He raised his cup toward the mayor. “To our success in war!”
When Foulques returned to the hall after an hour to reconvene, he once again expected this to be a mere formality.
Instead, the vote remained 4-2, this time with Marshal Leon opposed.
“What is the meaning of this?” Foulques demanded. “You sided with me in the last vote!”
“Chancellor Andre has made some good points,” Leon said. “About the honor of the conflict… and how it may be unwise to unsettle the balance of things in the duchy…”
Leon was never that eloquent. He was being fed this explanation by Andre, who seemed intent on blocking Foulques no matter what.
“Is the matter discussed enough, my lord?” Andre asked.
Foulques slammed the table. His outburst caused the others to flinch and take a step back, but no votes changed.
“I wish to speak with my marshal, in private,” Foulques said. “Leave us.”
The other four men departed. Leon kept his eyes on the map, strewn across the large table before them. Foulques paced around him for a time.
“What did he promise you?” Foulques asked.
“I don’t know what you mean my lord,” Leon said.
“Don’t lie to your lord,” Foulques said. “It will not end well.”
Leon gave a slight nod. “He said for my support, I could have his support in future matters."
“So he makes deals,” Foulques said.
“He does,” Leon said. “He has secured the votes of everyone else on the council. Except Mayor Guilhem, of course. You will not be able to have this war, my lord, unless you give Andre what he wants.”
“What does he want?” Foulques asked.
“He did not tell me,” Leon admitted.
“So you agree to his wishes without even knowing what he wants of our realm?” Foulques said. “I thought you wiser than that Leon.”
The marshal said nothing as an infuriated Foulques stormed out of the room, and marched his way to Andre’s quarters.
“My lord,” Andre said as he opened the door to his chambers. “What a pleasant surprise!”
“Why do you stand against me?” Foulques demanded.
“Never one for diplomacy,” Andre said. “I suppose that is why you need me.”
“I
need to know why you oppose me,” Foulques said. “And place our lands in jeopardy!”
“You put your family’s lands at stake for overgrown ambition,” Andre said.
“You would trust my brother to keep these lands?” Foulques asked.
“I trust him not to lose it any further,” Andre said. “You may expand them for a time, but you would remove him, kill him, and then leave no one but your sister to inherit. When you old southern wife does not give you a child, the lands will pass away from your house.”
“You presume much,” Foulques said. “Lady Beatritz is a healthy woman. She will produce a child.”
“Your mother is a healthy woman,” Andre said. “But she will still produce no more children. One cannot deny time.”
“This is unacceptable!” Foulques said. “I am the count of Tours. You are just a lowborn fool I have raised to your position.”
“I may be a lowborn man,” Andre said. “But I am no fool. I could have helped you secure the friendships you wished outside the county as deftly as I have secured your council’s support within had you just listened to my advice. Instead, we shall see. If the lady bears a son in the next three years, you shall have your war.”
“The chance may be gone!” Foulques said.
“If the Duke is as inept as you claim, then you have little to fear. The chance will remain,” Andre said. “Now, if my lord has nothing more…”
“What do you want?” Foulques said. “What that I have, do you desire? Gold? A wife? A promise of a barony or city in the future? Name it, so that I may have your support.”
“I do not seek material wealth or favor,” Andre said. “Repudiate the woman and wed Aenor de Thouars.”
“You wish me to insult my new ally, Duke Guilhem?” Foulques said. “And embarrass myself to the whole realm? And you claim you are not a fool.”
“You need not do it now,” Andre said. “You can wait six months. A year perhaps. But a promise it shall be done, if she does not produce a male child.”
Andre’s short-sightedness was again rearing its ugly head. Such a move would be worthless for the count. He wanted Guilhem’s support in future endeavors more than he wanted it for his war with Geoffrey.
Foulques could lie. But he did not even want to give the chancellor the least bit of satisfaction, even if it temporary.
“You are not the lord of this county,” Foulques said. “I shall do what is necessary, whether you agree or not.”
“Then you will be labelled a tyrant,” Andre said. “And all those in Anjou will know of your mis-deeds... and my not find you a palatable option to your brother.”
“And should I replace you?” Foulques asked.
“I am hard at work securing your right to seize Vendome from Count Bouchard,” Andre said. “Do you believe another man in the country more capable of performing that task?”
“You work against me,” Foulques said. “You likely will never produce that claim.”
“I do not work against you,” Andre said. “I strive against your methods, my lord. I would welcome your family holding the lands over Count Bouchard. It would strengthen your house without endangering it.”
“You expect me to believe you work for the betterment of my house?” Foulques asked.
“Everything I do is for that purpose,” Andre said. “What am I to do if my lord endangers himself and his family? I have a duty to protect him from himself, if he will not see reason. That is what I do here.”
Foulques stared the chancellor down. “That you presume to know best for the House d’Anjou is laughable. Know I will not forget this.”
Andre nodded, with the count noticing a smirk on his chancellor’s face. He had half a mind to fire him now, but he was right about one thing – there was no one else in county who could be counted on to secure Vendome for him.
Fouqlues returned to his quarters and poured himself a full cup of wine. After chugging it down, he poured another and did the same before storming back out, and heading to his new wife’s quarters.
He was not certain the chancellor’s promise to release his objections if Beatritz bore a son were genuine, but even if they weren’t, Foulques wanted nothing more than to show Andre how wrong he was about the chances a son would be borne of the union.
....
A pounding headache is what greeted Foulques when he awoke the next morning. The night before was a haze that slowly came into focus, along with his vision as he saw Beatritz standing over a small table, pouring out liquid into a cup.
“Water?” he asked as she handed him the cup.
“It will help my lord,” she said. “You had much to drink last night.”
Foulques gulped it down. He did hit the spot and he took another helping when she offered.
“Thank you,” he said. “In truth, I do not remember much from last night.”
“You had a great deal of drink,” Beatritz said. “Before and after….”
She did not finish, but she did not need to for Foulques to understand her reference.
“Is something the matter my Lord?” Beatritz asked. “I have been in Tours for but a few weeks, and I have not seen you as I did last night.”
“Many things are wrong,” Foulques said. He reached to his wife’s abdomen and grabbed at it. “Many things that would be solve if your belly quickly swells with child.”
Beatritz blushed. “I know they question me my lord. But you are young and strong. It will happen soon, I have no doubt.”
“Not soon enough to please that fool of a chancellor,” Foulques said. “He will not give me my war against my brother unless I repudiate you.”
Beatritz hand cupped her mouth. “My lord… surely you will not…”
“I will not listen to such talk,” Foulques said. “He thinks himself
my lord.”
If Beatritz was relieved, she did not show it, instead slowly wandering to the bed and sitting beside her husband.
“Surely you would replace such a man,” Beatritz said.
“You think I have not thought that?” Foulques said. “But it is not so easy. I have no one in the county who can do as he does. And if I wish to find someone outside the county, it will take time.”
“Can you trust a man who does not abide by your will?” Beatritz asked.
“He is not afraid to voice his opinion,” Foulques said. “There is value in that.”
“Not as much value as the keep at Angers, or your brother’s title,” Beatritz said.
“You now question me?”
“I question him, my lord,” Beatritz said. “He questions your every move. He, who believes in your brother more than you, my lord. He, who questions that you, my lord, will not produce a son.”
“He doubts
you,” Foulques said.
“He does,” Beatritz said. “Because I was born in the south. Because of my brother. But I am a loyal wife… and…”
She trailed off.
“And?”
“Never mind my lord,” Beatritz said. “I do not wish to overstep my bounds.”
“Out with it, woman,” Foulques said.
“I do not wish to be replaced and after you told me your chancellor thinks of ill of me at the feast, it was all I could think about,” Beatritz said. “My brother was recently searching for a new man for the role in his court, so before he returned to Aquitaine, I asked him to send me the names he had. I received his reply a few days back.”
“You do not wish to overstep your bounds,” Foulques said. “Yet you do that?”
“I would not bring such things up with ease my lord,” Beatritz said. “I only speak because he angers both of us. And you sounded as if you wished to find someone else, but worried about the time it would take.”
Foulques did not know his new wife to be brave, but he doubted she would have asked her brother for a list of replacements for Andre on the mere hope Foulques would grow tired of him. She had to have meant to bring this up to him soon – this just provided her with an opportunity.
Still…
“You would send me a southerner? From your brother’s court?” he asked.
“I would not if you do not wish it,” Beatritz said. “Especially after marrying a woman from Aquitaine. Some of the men on the list are Franks.”
She isn’t foolish at least, Foulques thought.
Then Beatritz brought her hand to his face. “I know you chose me as your wife for my brother’s knights. But they will be wasted while that fool remains as chancellor. Let me help you my lord.”
Foulques stroked his goatee. “We shall see if you are capable then, woman.”
“Truly?” Beatritz asked.
“Yes, truly,” Foulques said, and was greeted by a tight embrace from his wife.
He had some hesitation giving in on this matter. If he were to choose a man not from the court of Duke Guilhem, Foulques' brother-in-law shouldn’t have too much influence over the man. But he didn’t fully trust anyone suggested to be completely free of strings – either Guilhem or Beatritz must have heard of him from somewhere. Trading Andre’s obstinacy for those strings was not necessarily beneficial to him long term.
But in the short term, it removed the biggest obstacle to his goal – getting the council to agree to his revolt against Geoffrey. He could deal with finding another chancellor if this new one failed – with the draw of serving a duke, rather than a count.