Before Plantagenet -Chapter 9
October 1067 - Anjou, France
Foulques shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
It was still taking him some time to get used to it. He had been conducting business from there in the main hall over the past few weeks, but it still bothered him as he sat in it for long periods of time. Beatritz had suggested he just needed more time in it, but Foulques wasn’t so sure. Perhaps he would pay to have a new one crafted.
In the meantime, it was time for more business.
“Who is the next one?” Foulques asked Mayor Guilhem.
“Geoffrey’s court physician,” the mayor said. “A woman by the name of Adalmode. A nun, who your brother coaxed from a convent to serve him.”
The new duke had recently sorted his council, with some assistance privately from Beatritz, who had made the suggestions on who should remain and who should be removed.
The only two changes she had made was to marshal - she suggested the Baron de Cholet as he was both capable, and had more status than Leon or Amaury. She also suggested Ebbon, the Bishop of Fontevraud, as Court Chaplain since, as she put it, Beranger could read, but he was hardly a man of learning.
The entire council was present as Foulques held court in these early days, though they were remaining silent on most matters. For the most part, the new duke was merely meeting with people across duchy while also sorting disputes that had been left unresolved as a result of the war. This next situation was a case of the former, rather than the latter.
There was no court physician to compete with this Adalmode, but Foulques felt he needed to at least go through the show of having this woman presented to him before agreeing to keep her in court.
“Step forward, Adalmode,” Foulques said. A thin, woman who appeared to be around 40 years, wearing a headdress walked toward him. Yet despite her frame, there was no weakness or frailty in her steps.
“My lord,” she said as she knelt before Foulques.
“Tell me,” Foulques began, “you served my brother. Do you still serve him? Or will you serve a new master?”
Adalmode raised her head, pinning the duke with her gaze. “I serve only God. And I do so by healing his children. I did so for your brother. I may do so for you. If that is not enough, then I will return to the convent and help the girls there. It makes no difference to me.”
Foulques looked toward Beatritz, seated in a smaller chair next to him. He whispered: “Your thoughts?”
Beatritz looked the woman over. “We have need for a physician do we not? Poor Bernard may still be with us had we found someone earlier. And I have not heard a bad word spoken of her yet.”
Foulques nodded. “Very well Adalmode. We will be happy to have you remain with us. Arise.”
Adalmode did as she was instructed. “Thank you my lord.”
She left and another man approached. Beatritz leaned in.
“Mayor Renaud of Saumur,” she whispered.
“Ah, and you say he bears me no ill-will for the sacking?” he responded.
“If may a little, but he is the one I told you about,” Beatritz said. “The one who seeks status.”
Foulques gave a slight nod. His wife had told him Renaud had dreamed of a spot on the council, and was angry to be left off. Thankfully, she believed he was a man who wished to be seen with those of the noble class - friendship with the duke would soothe his frayed feelings.
“You requested to see me, my lord,” Renaud said as he knelt before Foulques.
“Yes,” Foulques said. “I have had most of Geoffrey’s former men come to pledge themselves to me. Yet you have been absent. Why?”
Renaud did not raise his head. “I have been seeing to the town of Saumur, my lord. You may remember, it was recently sacked. The people are rebuilding.”
“So you harbor ill-will toward me for the sacking?” Foulques asked.
“I understand it is the way of things in war,” Renaud said. “You merely asked why I have not come to Angers. That is the long and short of it, my lord.”
“You are here now then,” Foulques said. “What say you? Do you pledge your loyalty to your new duke?”
Renaud still did not look toward Foulques. “I am always a loyal subject of the duke of Anjou.”
Foulques narrowed his gaze as he tightly gripped the rests of his chair. This Renaud was beginning to test his patience.
The duke felt a soft touch on his hand. A glance to his right revealed Beatritz with a calm expression. She mouthed “offer your hand.”
Foulques closed his eyes, took a breath and stood up from his chair. His heavy sword clanged against the wood as he rose. That managed to draw Renaud’s gaze up and the duke believed he saw the hint of fear in the mayor’s eyes.
“Arise, Renaud, mayor of Saumur,” Foulques commanded.
Renaud’s eyebrows rose and he remained motionless for a time, seemingly scanning the hall for some hint as to what was happening. Eventually, he pushed himself upright, finding himself looking up at Foulques. The duke had descended the few stairs separating him, but still stood over him.
That’s when the duke grasped hold of Renaud’s arm.
The mayor flinched but Foulques pulled him close.
“Difficult as it must be to face me after the sack of Saumur,” Foulques said, “you did so. You are a brave man, Renaud, and a fine mayor to your people. I am happy to accept your service.”
“I… thank you my lord,” Renaud said.
“You appear to be well-built,” Foulques said. “Have you seen battle?”
“Leading local men in dealing with bandits and thieves, my lord,” Renaud said. “It has been some time though.”
“Then you may be out of practice,” Foulques said. “No matter, I would have you train alongside me, if you would allow it.”
“Train… alongside you, my lord?” Renaud asked.
“You have not lost your hearing in battle, have you?” Foulques asked. He gave a light tap to Renaud’s arm. “Yes, I would like you train beside me. What say you?”
“I… I would be honored my lord,” Renaud said.
“Good, I will not keep you from your duties in Saumur for too long, but I should hope to see you once a fortnight?” Foulques asked. “If it would be not much trouble.”
Renaud shook his head. “Of course not my lord. Thank you my lord.”
The mayor still seemed to be in stupor as he walked off. Foulques gave a slight shake of his own head as he returned to his chair.
“He is yours,” Beatritz whispered.
“We shall see,” Foulques whispered back. Then he raised his voice to normal: “Is there any other business?”
“A letter,” the steward said. “A request from William, Count of Eu. Bishop Ebbon holds it.”
“Probably wishes to negotiate the return of his niece,” Foulques said. “Read the letter.”
Bishop Ebbon began: “Dearest Duke Foulques, please accept my congratulations on your ascendence to the chair of the duchy of Anjou. I have no doubt a man of your talents will do well in the role.”
“He wants something,” Foulques said. “Let’s hear it.”
“There is the matter of my niece, Lithuaise. She is married to your brother, but is now in your custody. I would ask for your kindness, and release her so she may serve in your court.”
“What?” Beatritz asked.
“Bishop, do you read it correctly?” Foulques asked.
“I do my lord,” the bishop said. “He asks for her to be released from the arrest, but he wishes for her to serve. He believes her to be a worthy lady for the duchess, whom does not have any woman of high birth in her retinue.”
“He presumes much,” Beatritz said. “Why does he not seek an annulment?”
“He may not be able to,” the steward said. “He ignored an excommunication to marry her to Geoffrey.”
“And he does not wish her sent to her husband?” Beatritz asked.
“Her husband is displaced, disgraced and hiding in Bourgogne,” chancellor Guillaume said. “He likely sees no value in it.”
“So he has a niece he cannot marry to another,” Foulques said. “He hopes this arrangement benefits him more.” He chuckled. “And why should I placate a man who serves another liege, and gave aid to my brother?”
“Agreed, my lord,” Beatritz said.
Mayor Guilhem leaned in. “My lord. Perhaps it would be wise to adjourn temporarily for a private session of the council? This matter, I believe warrants further consideration.”
Foulques gave a small sigh but nodded.
These meetings were what he disliked about ruling - he hated it as a count and things were likely to be even worse now that he ruled the duchy.
He had half a mind to send Beatritz in his place, but thought better of it. While she certainly had more of a taste for such matters, he would not have his reputation sullied by having people think his wife ruled in his stead.
She frowned as he left her to join the rest of his council, away from the hall, but that would be the extent of her protests. She certainly would not make a scene in public, and likely would keep it muted in private.
Once they were in the war room, complete with a large table with a map of France strewn across it, Foulques demanded to know why Mayor Guilhem had asked for the meeting.
“I believe you should strongly consider accepting the count’s request,” the steward said.
“Give into a Norman?” Guillaume asked. “I think that is unwise.”
“The lord may stand to benefit,” the steward said.
“How so?” Foulques asked.
“Her family, whether we like it or not, is powerful,” the steward said.
“Her immediate family is not,” Guillaume interjected.
“Her extended family is,” the mayor continued. “This gives us a connection, which might be useful later, but not one that is official and binds us. And the count may be willing to repay your generosity later.”
“A lot of questions in that,” Guillaume argued.
“And your objections?” Foulques asked.
“She is a Norman whom we know little about, beside that she is married to your brother,” Guillaume said. “Nothing about those facts make her suitable to remain here, and by so close to your family, my lord.”
Foulques stroked his goatee. “Do any of the rest of you have an opinion?”
“Should… matters not turn out well with the Duchess and your attempts to have a son,” Adrien, the spymaster said. “The girl is still young and might make for a suitable wife. Or mistress…”
Foulques lowered his head. He suspected Beatritz’s eagerness to send the girl along was due to exactly what the steward said. But the steward made good points.
“You now plot against the duchess?” Guillaume demanded of Adrien.
“I merely state facts,” Adrien said. “Our lord likely wishes for a son. And should the duchess not provide one…”
“He is bound by God to remain by her side,” Guillaume said. “Lack of children is not grounds for annulment. Is that not right Bishop Ebbon?”
Bishop Ebbon nodded.
“That is not my concern at this moment,” Foulques said. He turned to the Baron de Cholet. “What do you think of the girl?
“I have concerns,” he responded. “Of her ties to your brother. She may work for his ends, as he is not far. Even if he is not in the realm, he resides on its border.”
“To what ends?” the steward said. “Geoffrey no doubt moves against you, but she cannot have any love lost for a man who abandoned her to her fate. Even her uncle - you would merely discuss with her how her family does not wish her to return to his court. If she believes this court to be the only place she may call home, she should treat it as such.”
“I will watch her like a hawk,” Adrien added.
The duke looked at de Cholet once more. “Does that allay your concerns?”
“Enough,” the baron said. “Enough that I do not have a strong objection.”
Foulques looked toward Bishop Ebbon. “And you?”
“I believe mercy is the proper choice,” the bishop said. “I would also send her to be with her husband, but I suspect that is not a true option.”
“Correct,” Foulques said. “She has some value. I will not hand that over to Geoffrey, or her uncle, out of kindness.”
The duke sighed. “I have made my decision. Let us return to the hall.”
Foulques led the others back to the main hall, though he stopped short of entering, allowing the council members to do so first and position themselves. Then the duke followed and took his seat in his uncomfortable chair.
“Upon deliberation, I have decided to release the girl,” Foulques said. “Lithuaise shall remain in our court, and as the count suggests, she shall be one of the duchess’ ladies.”
“What?” Beatritz said. “But you said…”
“I have thought better of it,” Foulques said. “She will be one of your ladies though you are free to give her a role among them as you see fit. Treat her with the respect befitting of someone of noble birth.”
Beatritz’s pale complexion reddened and Foulques could see her lips tremble. She was not the bravest of women but he wondered if perhaps this would prompt stronger resistance.
“As you wish, my lord,” she said after a moment. “I shall welcome her among my ladies. I am sure she is well-versed on some of proper etiquette my lower-born ladies lack.”
Foulques nodded. He suspected she would protest in private to him, but that was something he could handle.
A few minutes later Lithuaise was brought forth before the duke and duchess. She was mostly well-kept - despite being in their custody she was kept under house arrest, rather than the dungeon.
“My lady, your uncle has pleaded for your release,” Foulques said. “I feel generous enough to grant it.”
Lithuaise looked up with some relief as a small smile formed on her lips. “Thank you my lord. You are most generous. Then I am to return to Eu?”
“You will not,” Foulques said. “As you are still my brother's wife, your uncle requests you remain in this court and serve the Duchess as one of her ladies.”
Lithuaise’s mouth hung open. Shaking her head she muttered: “My father would not. He would request to my uncle would have me return to Eu or request I join my husband.”
“Your husband hides in Bourgogne,” Foulques said. “Perhaps your family has no use for a son who cowers. And you are married and thus cannot marry again. If you would like to see what he has written…”
Ebbon offered her the letter. Lithuaise gave a slight shake of the head. Foulques doubted she could read.
“If you wish to leave, I will not stop you,” Foulques said. “You are free to find your place elsewhere.”
He could see her eyes widen and her hands tremble. He knew she could not go. A stronger woman might have taken her chances. But she was not.
“I… again am thankful for your generosity, my lord,” Lithuaise said. “I will happily serve the duchess in any form she sees fit.”
“Be warned, “ Foulques said, “the duchess expects the highest of standards.”
He gave Beatritz a sly smile. Her only response was a glare, first at Foulques and then at her new lady.
“Come girl,” Beatritz said, “the others should meet you. We can then go over… your duties.”
Her head drooped, no doubt sensing the duchess’ discontent. But Lithuaise obeyed, following Beatritz out of the hall.
“That may be trouble, my lord,” the steward said.
“She is fortunate the duchess is not cruel,” Foulques said. “But we shall see what comes of it.”
“Aye, my lord. We shall.”
), so as long as the French crown is secure, Foulques shouldn't fear him too much.
