Chapter 39 - July 1082
Before Plantagenet - Chapter 39
July 1082 - Anjou, France
“Again.”
Agnes d’Anjou frowned. But she did as she was told.
In Occitan, she said: “It is a lovely feast, my lord. I thank you for your hospitality.”
Duchess Beatritz did her best not roll her eyes - she was careful not to do that to Agnes with her ladies and servants around. Her daughter was growing into a talking, outgoing girl and she did not wish to harm that development. But the words that spewed from her mouth were cut by the unrefined Frankish tongue.
Such a manner had gotten her mocked, behind her back, while visiting Bordeaux. And, Beatritz suspected, the girl’s future may well lay in the south.
Thus, while there was never any question Agnes would be closer to her Frankish roots, the duchess swore to make her capable of performing a respectable job of passing if placed into her mother’s old world.
“Better,” Beatritz said.
While Agnes gave a smile, she always wished to please, Beatritz could see her daughter was tiring of this lesson. Thankfully, there were other ways to pass the time.
“Where is Etiennette?” Beatritz asked. “I wish to continue her lessons. Time grows short and I’ll not have you a woman grown served by a lady not fit for her duties.”
“She is with her mother,” Agnes said. “Shall I get her?”
For her sake, the sooner the better, Beatritz thought. Ermengarda was a cow of a woman, unrefined, uncouth and quick to spread her legs. Alearde had even told her that Ermengarda fancied Foulques himself, though at this time, the duke was uninterested.
At this time, Beatritz reminded herself.
It was a shame the Karlings had fallen so far as to end up siring children with her, but, such was fate… even if it was amusing for Beatritz to sometimes think of what Charlemagne or Charles Martel might say upon seeing their descendent with a woman like her.
But the Karling blood and her friendship with Agnes would could help Etiennette strive to better. She could end up Agnes’ lady, or for someone else in court, maybe even marry a landed noble. With the right guidance… anyway.
Soon after Agnes departed the duchess’ chambers, Beatritz heard a knock on the door. It was Bishop Telent. She rose from her chair to acknowledge his presence.
“My lady,” Telent said. “Do you have a moment? There is a matter I wish to discuss, if you will let me.”
Beatritz caught the look of Alearde, but said nothing to her.
“What of it?” Beatritz asked.
“If you do not mind,” Telent began, “it would be better discussed in private.”
Again, Beatritz could feel Alearde’s stare on her.
“Of course,” Beatritz said. “Ladies.”
The women exited the chambers. As they did, Beatritz rubbed her nose and then blew into a cloth.
“Are you unwell, my lady?” Telent asked.
“It is nothing,” she responded. She poured them each some wine. “What is this matter you wish to discuss?”
“It is delicate business,” Telent said as he took the cup. “I even hesitate bringing it up, but… with your husband gone, I think now is the time.”
Beatritz raised an eyebrow. “Bishop Telent, my husband may be gone, but there remains just one Duke of Anjou. I merely follow his wishes in his stead. He remains here in all but body.”
Telent cracked a smile. “Of course my lady, but even should he have been here, there are some matters which require a more delicate touch.”
“Ah,” Beatritz said. “Your point is taken. Finesse is not the duke’s strength.”
She sat down and sipped her wine. “So what do you wish to speak to me about?”
Telent sat down opposite her. “My lady, do you ever wonder if, perhaps, we have lost our way?”
Beatritz cocked an eyebrow. “You… question my husband?”
“No!” Telent said. “My lord is not who I discuss. I mean… we, the church.”
“I cannot call myself an expert on such matters,” Beatritz said. “What do you mean?”
Telent sighed. “I look at my fellow priests… and then bishops and cardinals, even his eminence himself. I have begun to see wealth driving these men, more than their love of God. How can we hope to properly shepherd our flock if we are driven by the wrong reasons?”
Beatritz nodded. “I have seen some of what you say. But, what is to be done, beside you refusing to take part in those pursuits?”
“There are priests across Europe who are forsaking the church,” Telent said. “Specifically the ways of the Pope. They are taking vows of poverty, encouraging lay people to examine the teachings of Christ themselves. They call themselves Waldensians.”
Beatritz dropped her cup, it making a loud clang on the stone floor, the wine splashing up onto her dress.
“Oh!” she said. “I am sorry.”
“Are you feeling well my lady?” Telent asked.
“I… I am just surprised upon hearing such talk,” Beatritz said. “This is heresy. And… I do not understand why you would come to me with it.”
“We believe in strict adherence to the Bible,” Telent said. “I know you were upset over the duke’s… indiscretions. Such things are often allowed to let pass for men such as him now. Under our way, it would be different.”
Beatritz stared at the bishop for a moment. She got up and slowly made we way toward the wall. “You would have us abandon the church… such things would be a great risk to this family. To my children.”
“Perhaps it would be wise to not speak of it openly,” Telent said. “But practice in secret, telling those whom you can trust.”
Beatritz dropped her cup again. This time it was empty.
“My lady,” Telent said. “I am concerned. You seem ill.”
“I am merely surprised,” Beatritz said. “And concerned. What you say troubles me.”
The door suddenly burst open and four guardsmen entered the room. Telent stumbled out of his chair and fell onto the floor, where he was grabbed and hauled up.
“What is this?” Telent demanded.
“I am sorry,” Beatritz said. “I have always thought well of you bishop and have sympathy to your plight. But this is not something I can follow you in. Nor can this family. Take him to the dungeons.”
“You can’t do this!” Telent shouted as he was hauled away. “You do not have the power! Unhand me, she is just the wife of the duke!”
Beatritz did not respond, instead picking up her cup and pouring herself a new cup of wine. She sipped it as Alearde quietly re-entered the room and closed the door behind her.
“Well done,” Beatritz said. “You were right about his heresy. And the use of the cup dropping twice to signal the guards, very smart.”
“I would not fail you, my lady,” Alearde said. “But what will you do with the servants he converted?”
“The local priests can speak to them,” Beatritz said. “I will insist they are not punished. Otherwise the well will run dry.”
“And the bishop?”
“I will leave him in the dungeons until my husband returns,” Beatritz said.
“Will the lord be upset you have removed him as court chaplain without his consent?” Alearde asked. “I know he is still sore after the death of… her.”
“I will appoint his courtier Louis,” Beatritz said. “Temporarily. He likes the man, and if he asks, I will say I did not feel comfortable appointing a successor, but also could not leave a heretic in the position. My husband’s anger on this matter will not outweigh his distaste for administration. He may still even let me appoint the Telent’s successor.”
The duchess drank down her wine and poured herself another glass. “As for his dead harlot, he is a fool. God has handed him a reprieve from his foolish decision - she is gone and his brother is too naive to see the truth about the child. It is a clean slate. He should be pleased.”
Alearde nodded. Beatritz eyed her.
“You think me cold to speak of her so.”
“It is your right,” Alearde said. “I understand your anger, my lady.”
“But you do not agree with it,” Beatritz said. “Or do you feel sympathy for him?”
Alearde shook her head. “I do not. But I wonder… do you hate him now?”
“Hate?” Beatritz asked. “Far from it. I was annoyed and angry. But hate? That I think is a foolish errand.”
“If you believe he wished to replace you,” Alearde said.
“He did not when he could have,” Beatritz said. “She wished to have my seat. And others at court did for her as well, I am sure. I have never been well-liked here, but am secure because I have given the duke a daughter and son and I happily do what he does not wish to. I did fear, with time, perhaps she could have garnered enough support to achieve her ends. But she did not receive enough time, and now she is gone. Gone forever!”
Beatritz raised her cup and drank down the contents, the smile as wide as her face as she finished.
“Life will never be perfect, my dear,” Beatritz said Alearde. “If it were, I would have been married when I was younger than you are now, and the mother of a brood of healthy children like my sister-in-law, in a court to the south where I do not have to hear the harsh way they speak here, with a husband who thought of me like a queen.
“But we cannot let perfect be the enemy of good. I am a wife, I do have two healthy children, and while I am not in the south, I sit in a court where I just threw a bishop of the church into the dungeons, knowing my husband will abide by my decision, as he has with countless others in the past. I do not think even my late sister, the Empress, could claim that.”
“You have certainly accomplished a great deal, my lady,” Alearde said.
Beatritz awkwardly hefted her heavy body out of the chair and embraced Alearde tightly.
“And I could not have done it without your help,” Beatritz said. “You have been my eyes when I have none. My ears in places I could not hear. And at my request, you have counselled me on how best to keep secrets and read others. I would look upon you with a similar love I have for my own daughter.”
And then Beatritz saw something she did not expect, having never truly seen it before. Alearde’s eyes began to well up with tears.
“My lady… I have… such words are too kind for me,” she stammered. “I am your faithful servant but I am not worthy of love that strong.”
Beatritz shook her head. “I would tell your mother no different. She raised a fine woman.”
Alearde wiped the tears from her eyes. “I thank you, my lady. But I should leave you. It is not right for you to see me in this state. And Lady Agnes and young Etiennette will be here shortly for their lesson.”
Beatritz placed her hands on Alearde’s delicate shoulders and looked her directly in the eye. “We do what we must to survive and thrive in this world that is unfriendly to us. Feel no guilt for what you have done and continue to do, dear. ”
Alearde hugged Beatritz as tightly as the duchess had her, and then quickly left the chambers, sniffling on her way. Meanwhile the duchess poured herself some water and sat down once more.
If she were noble born, with her beauty and skills, she could have been the most dangerous woman in the realm, Beatritz said. Thankfully, she was not.
There was a knock on the door, followed by Agnes and the pudgy Etiennette entered.
Beatritz stared at her daughter once more. A smile came to the duchess' face and an idea quickly blossomed in her mind.
“Agnes, I think I have found you a new teacher.”
Note: Forgot the note! So from what I looked up, the Waldensian heresy did not appear in real life for around another 100 years, but since the game went with it, there wasn't much I could do. I thought about simply not naming it, but the screenshot includes it, so... I followed along. Not as major in some ways as infants teleporting hundreds of miles in an instant but still likely annoying to some.
July 1082 - Anjou, France
“Again.”
Agnes d’Anjou frowned. But she did as she was told.
In Occitan, she said: “It is a lovely feast, my lord. I thank you for your hospitality.”
Duchess Beatritz did her best not roll her eyes - she was careful not to do that to Agnes with her ladies and servants around. Her daughter was growing into a talking, outgoing girl and she did not wish to harm that development. But the words that spewed from her mouth were cut by the unrefined Frankish tongue.
Such a manner had gotten her mocked, behind her back, while visiting Bordeaux. And, Beatritz suspected, the girl’s future may well lay in the south.
Thus, while there was never any question Agnes would be closer to her Frankish roots, the duchess swore to make her capable of performing a respectable job of passing if placed into her mother’s old world.
“Better,” Beatritz said.
While Agnes gave a smile, she always wished to please, Beatritz could see her daughter was tiring of this lesson. Thankfully, there were other ways to pass the time.
“Where is Etiennette?” Beatritz asked. “I wish to continue her lessons. Time grows short and I’ll not have you a woman grown served by a lady not fit for her duties.”
“She is with her mother,” Agnes said. “Shall I get her?”
For her sake, the sooner the better, Beatritz thought. Ermengarda was a cow of a woman, unrefined, uncouth and quick to spread her legs. Alearde had even told her that Ermengarda fancied Foulques himself, though at this time, the duke was uninterested.
At this time, Beatritz reminded herself.
It was a shame the Karlings had fallen so far as to end up siring children with her, but, such was fate… even if it was amusing for Beatritz to sometimes think of what Charlemagne or Charles Martel might say upon seeing their descendent with a woman like her.
But the Karling blood and her friendship with Agnes would could help Etiennette strive to better. She could end up Agnes’ lady, or for someone else in court, maybe even marry a landed noble. With the right guidance… anyway.
Soon after Agnes departed the duchess’ chambers, Beatritz heard a knock on the door. It was Bishop Telent. She rose from her chair to acknowledge his presence.
“My lady,” Telent said. “Do you have a moment? There is a matter I wish to discuss, if you will let me.”
Beatritz caught the look of Alearde, but said nothing to her.
“What of it?” Beatritz asked.
“If you do not mind,” Telent began, “it would be better discussed in private.”
Again, Beatritz could feel Alearde’s stare on her.
“Of course,” Beatritz said. “Ladies.”
The women exited the chambers. As they did, Beatritz rubbed her nose and then blew into a cloth.
“Are you unwell, my lady?” Telent asked.
“It is nothing,” she responded. She poured them each some wine. “What is this matter you wish to discuss?”
“It is delicate business,” Telent said as he took the cup. “I even hesitate bringing it up, but… with your husband gone, I think now is the time.”
Beatritz raised an eyebrow. “Bishop Telent, my husband may be gone, but there remains just one Duke of Anjou. I merely follow his wishes in his stead. He remains here in all but body.”
Telent cracked a smile. “Of course my lady, but even should he have been here, there are some matters which require a more delicate touch.”
“Ah,” Beatritz said. “Your point is taken. Finesse is not the duke’s strength.”
She sat down and sipped her wine. “So what do you wish to speak to me about?”
Telent sat down opposite her. “My lady, do you ever wonder if, perhaps, we have lost our way?”
Beatritz cocked an eyebrow. “You… question my husband?”
“No!” Telent said. “My lord is not who I discuss. I mean… we, the church.”
“I cannot call myself an expert on such matters,” Beatritz said. “What do you mean?”
Telent sighed. “I look at my fellow priests… and then bishops and cardinals, even his eminence himself. I have begun to see wealth driving these men, more than their love of God. How can we hope to properly shepherd our flock if we are driven by the wrong reasons?”
Beatritz nodded. “I have seen some of what you say. But, what is to be done, beside you refusing to take part in those pursuits?”
“There are priests across Europe who are forsaking the church,” Telent said. “Specifically the ways of the Pope. They are taking vows of poverty, encouraging lay people to examine the teachings of Christ themselves. They call themselves Waldensians.”
Beatritz dropped her cup, it making a loud clang on the stone floor, the wine splashing up onto her dress.
“Oh!” she said. “I am sorry.”
“Are you feeling well my lady?” Telent asked.
“I… I am just surprised upon hearing such talk,” Beatritz said. “This is heresy. And… I do not understand why you would come to me with it.”
“We believe in strict adherence to the Bible,” Telent said. “I know you were upset over the duke’s… indiscretions. Such things are often allowed to let pass for men such as him now. Under our way, it would be different.”
Beatritz stared at the bishop for a moment. She got up and slowly made we way toward the wall. “You would have us abandon the church… such things would be a great risk to this family. To my children.”
“Perhaps it would be wise to not speak of it openly,” Telent said. “But practice in secret, telling those whom you can trust.”
Beatritz dropped her cup again. This time it was empty.
“My lady,” Telent said. “I am concerned. You seem ill.”
“I am merely surprised,” Beatritz said. “And concerned. What you say troubles me.”
The door suddenly burst open and four guardsmen entered the room. Telent stumbled out of his chair and fell onto the floor, where he was grabbed and hauled up.
“What is this?” Telent demanded.
“I am sorry,” Beatritz said. “I have always thought well of you bishop and have sympathy to your plight. But this is not something I can follow you in. Nor can this family. Take him to the dungeons.”
“You can’t do this!” Telent shouted as he was hauled away. “You do not have the power! Unhand me, she is just the wife of the duke!”
Beatritz did not respond, instead picking up her cup and pouring herself a new cup of wine. She sipped it as Alearde quietly re-entered the room and closed the door behind her.
“Well done,” Beatritz said. “You were right about his heresy. And the use of the cup dropping twice to signal the guards, very smart.”
“I would not fail you, my lady,” Alearde said. “But what will you do with the servants he converted?”
“The local priests can speak to them,” Beatritz said. “I will insist they are not punished. Otherwise the well will run dry.”
“And the bishop?”
“I will leave him in the dungeons until my husband returns,” Beatritz said.
“Will the lord be upset you have removed him as court chaplain without his consent?” Alearde asked. “I know he is still sore after the death of… her.”
“I will appoint his courtier Louis,” Beatritz said. “Temporarily. He likes the man, and if he asks, I will say I did not feel comfortable appointing a successor, but also could not leave a heretic in the position. My husband’s anger on this matter will not outweigh his distaste for administration. He may still even let me appoint the Telent’s successor.”
The duchess drank down her wine and poured herself another glass. “As for his dead harlot, he is a fool. God has handed him a reprieve from his foolish decision - she is gone and his brother is too naive to see the truth about the child. It is a clean slate. He should be pleased.”
Alearde nodded. Beatritz eyed her.
“You think me cold to speak of her so.”
“It is your right,” Alearde said. “I understand your anger, my lady.”
“But you do not agree with it,” Beatritz said. “Or do you feel sympathy for him?”
Alearde shook her head. “I do not. But I wonder… do you hate him now?”
“Hate?” Beatritz asked. “Far from it. I was annoyed and angry. But hate? That I think is a foolish errand.”
“If you believe he wished to replace you,” Alearde said.
“He did not when he could have,” Beatritz said. “She wished to have my seat. And others at court did for her as well, I am sure. I have never been well-liked here, but am secure because I have given the duke a daughter and son and I happily do what he does not wish to. I did fear, with time, perhaps she could have garnered enough support to achieve her ends. But she did not receive enough time, and now she is gone. Gone forever!”
Beatritz raised her cup and drank down the contents, the smile as wide as her face as she finished.
“Life will never be perfect, my dear,” Beatritz said Alearde. “If it were, I would have been married when I was younger than you are now, and the mother of a brood of healthy children like my sister-in-law, in a court to the south where I do not have to hear the harsh way they speak here, with a husband who thought of me like a queen.
“But we cannot let perfect be the enemy of good. I am a wife, I do have two healthy children, and while I am not in the south, I sit in a court where I just threw a bishop of the church into the dungeons, knowing my husband will abide by my decision, as he has with countless others in the past. I do not think even my late sister, the Empress, could claim that.”
“You have certainly accomplished a great deal, my lady,” Alearde said.
Beatritz awkwardly hefted her heavy body out of the chair and embraced Alearde tightly.
“And I could not have done it without your help,” Beatritz said. “You have been my eyes when I have none. My ears in places I could not hear. And at my request, you have counselled me on how best to keep secrets and read others. I would look upon you with a similar love I have for my own daughter.”
And then Beatritz saw something she did not expect, having never truly seen it before. Alearde’s eyes began to well up with tears.
“My lady… I have… such words are too kind for me,” she stammered. “I am your faithful servant but I am not worthy of love that strong.”
Beatritz shook her head. “I would tell your mother no different. She raised a fine woman.”
Alearde wiped the tears from her eyes. “I thank you, my lady. But I should leave you. It is not right for you to see me in this state. And Lady Agnes and young Etiennette will be here shortly for their lesson.”
Beatritz placed her hands on Alearde’s delicate shoulders and looked her directly in the eye. “We do what we must to survive and thrive in this world that is unfriendly to us. Feel no guilt for what you have done and continue to do, dear. ”
Alearde hugged Beatritz as tightly as the duchess had her, and then quickly left the chambers, sniffling on her way. Meanwhile the duchess poured herself some water and sat down once more.
If she were noble born, with her beauty and skills, she could have been the most dangerous woman in the realm, Beatritz said. Thankfully, she was not.
There was a knock on the door, followed by Agnes and the pudgy Etiennette entered.
Beatritz stared at her daughter once more. A smile came to the duchess' face and an idea quickly blossomed in her mind.
“Agnes, I think I have found you a new teacher.”
Note: Forgot the note! So from what I looked up, the Waldensian heresy did not appear in real life for around another 100 years, but since the game went with it, there wasn't much I could do. I thought about simply not naming it, but the screenshot includes it, so... I followed along. Not as major in some ways as infants teleporting hundreds of miles in an instant but still likely annoying to some.
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