Before Plantagenet - Chapter 235
November 1130 - St. Pol de Leon, Brittany
The view was magnificent.
Geoffrey sat alone at a small table, underneath a tree, sipping on a cup of wine as a cool sea breeze blew through his brown hair. Across from him was an empty chair and by his side, a sword, sheathed in a leather scabbard. From his seat on this clear day, the 20-year-old king could see the coast and the ocean beyond, out to the horizon.
Views of the water were not unknown to Geoffrey, given Bordeaux was on the Garonne River. But the ocean was a different matter entirely, having only experienced the coast during his trip to Rome a few years before.
On this day, Geoffrey was just outside of the town of St. Pol de Leon, the home of Count Padric. He had successfully taken the town and keep from the Breton lord over a few weeks before and with the campaign likely nearing an end, the king decided to take in the sights. And he was impressed - so much so that this was the third time he’d come to this spot to look out at the coast.
Perhaps I should just take this land for myself, he thought.
It would be a nice place to spend the summers when it gets hot in Bordeaux.
However, it was more passing fancy than serious consideration. Doing so would likely extend the war, and make an enemy of his uncle. And a beautiful view probably wasn’t worth that.
Probably.
The king’s thoughts were interrupted however, as he saw a face he’d long been awaiting. Geoffrey stood up, and with a wide grin on his face, stepped forward to embrace Berard de Perigord.
Berard also was smiling as the two young men hugged, seeing each other for the first time in nearly a year - their longest time apart for as long as either could remember.
Geoffrey had known his friend was en route, and was likely to arrive today. Figuring it might be nice to show off this spot, Geoffrey had come out here, and instructed those back at the keep to direct Berard to the spot when he arrived.
“You look well!” Geoffrey said as he sat back down and offered Berard a seat and some wine.
“As do you,” Berard said, taking both. “I see the campaign has treated you well.”
“One grand victory, with an enemy king captured,” Geoffrey said. “And now the taking of a keep and town - with Lord Padric’s family as well. All in less than half a year.”
“I’m surprised the defenders gave up that quick,” Berard said.
Geoffrey wasn’t expecting that either. It was true he had laid siege to St. Pol de Leon with an army well over 12,000 men - a force that might easily overwhelm the garrison. But rather than storm the keep and town, he was content to sit and see if Padric would give up since his allies were broken and his own forces seemed incapable of battling Geoffrey’s.
Instead, Padric marched just south to Corlay, which had fallen to him prior to Geoffrey’s entrance to the war and then turned on the town of Huelgoat, laying siege.
Perhaps he had expected or hoped Geoffrey would break off the siege of St. Pol to stop him. And Geoffrey was tempted, wanting to avoid another Aurilliac.
But fortune soon smiled upon him, as Padric’s wife, Countess Dub-Essa, and their two daughters, had attempted to flee south from St. Pol and had been caught by Geoffrey’s sentries. And with the count’s family joining his father-by-law King Abbain of Munster in Geoffrey’s hands, the overwhelming force outside their walls, the defenders surrendered, allowing Geoffrey to march in with ease.
“Everything has gone right on this campaign,” Geoffrey admitted. “God clearly was in favor of our intervention.”
Berard grinned. “Do you plan to tell your sister that? I’m sure she’ll be pleased to hear it.”
Geoffrey eyed him. “How did you know about my reluctance to intervene?”
“Edouard told me, when I stopped in Bordeaux before coming north,” Berard explained. “But I am sorry that I missed the campaign. Alberic told me he led dismounted knights?”
“Yes, with much prodding required,” Geoffrey said.
Berard smirked. “He left out that part.”
“Of course he did,” Geoffrey said. “But I’m glad to have you back by my side. Alberic, Edouard - they do their best, but they’re not you.”
Berard’s brow rose. “Could it be? The king has missed me?”
Geoffrey rolled his eyes. “Do not be so dramatic about it.”
“How can I not be?” Berard continued. “The great conquering king of Aquitaine has specially been waiting for me? And look, you have even chosen a lovely spot, with a view of the coast, for our reunion.”
Geoffrey blushed. “Do not make me throw you from here.”
Berard just grinned as he took another drink from his cup. “As if you could.”
“You sire a son and suddenly you have all the confidence in the world,” Geoffrey said.
“Well, I learned from the best,” Berard replied.
Geoffrey shook his head and chuckled. “So, how does your wife and the babe fare?”
“Well,” Berard replied. “Or I would not have come.”
“You were delayed,” Geoffrey noted. “I thought you would have come in the summer. I wasn’t sure if something had happened.”
“Assalide did not want me to leave her and Savarics,” Berard said. “And… it was harder than expected to leave them both.”
“Oh? You are smitten with her?” Geoffrey asked.
“I am,” Berard said. “She is lovely. Beautiful, and sweet with her words. An honest soul, too. I do not think her capable of lying… for better or for worse.”
Geoffrey raised his cup. “Good. Loving one’s wife is better... than the alternative.”
Berard chuckled but lowered his gaze. “Well, I don’t have to please a brutish, Saxon princess. Assalide is a woman of more… refined tastes.”
“Not partial to ale then?” Geoffrey asked.
“Only the finest wine from Bordeaux,” Berard replied. He sipped his drink then continued. “But then after I managed to pull myself from her, I made a stop in Bordeaux to visit my sister. Ana wanted to congratulate me before I went off to war.”
“Did she say anything else?” Geoffrey asked.
Berard eyed him. “Wondering if she knows of your affair with the Duchess of Toulouse?”
Geoffrey took a long sip of his drink while not releasing Berard from his gaze. With a chuckle, the Perigord teen continued.
“She would not let on, though she did ask if you had mentioned anything about her,” Berard said. “I said I had not seen you in months. And that was it - it’s all I say of her knowledge.”
Geoffrey nodded and continued to sip on his drink. He had done his best to keep the knowledge of his relationship with Essa away from Ana - he was uncertain how she might react. But Ana knew him well - it would not be a surprise to learn she suspected something.
“Speaking of the duchess,” Berard continued, “I spoke to her as well.”
Geoffrey’s brow picked up. “Did you now?”
“She asked me to see her,” Berard said.
“And does she fare?” Geoffrey asked.
“Well, all things considered,” Berard said. “Growing heavy with child once more.”
Geoffrey swallowed a large gulp of wine before pouring himself another cup. Berard simply smirked.
“Did she have anything to pass along to me?” Geoffrey asked.
“Why else would she ask to speak to me?” Berard replied. “She says she is most excited for this child - perhaps the most she has ever been - such is her certainty that you sired it.”
Geoffrey swallowed hard.
If anyone were to learn of it…
But then he remembered why he thought his affair with Essa was so perfect - why would anyone learn of it? Even this child should not cause much suspicion after its birth - Essa was married and had three boys with Guilhem already. And it should look like Guilhem - he was Geoffrey’s paternal uncle and maternal first cousin.
“Fine news,” Geoffrey replied as he began to relax. “I assume no one suspects anything?”
“That… I can’t say,” Berard admitted. “Duke Guilhem was not in a good mood during my stay, but I hear he has been that way for a while.”
“He neither likes how I handled my sister Aines, nor that I aid Foulquesson after he disrespected me,” Geoffrey replied. “He especially resents Essa for siding with me on both matters.”
“She probably shouldn’t be so agreeable with you in public,” Berard said. “As to avoid suspicion.”
“Essa doesn’t disagree with him to make me happy,” Geoffrey said. “She is, and always has been, her own woman. That is what Guilhem detests.”
“The affairs probably don’t help,” Berard said.
“
Affair,” Geoffrey said. “One. And his frustration, I assure you, comes from other matters. Not this… which I’m pretty sure he knows nothing of.”
Berard shrugged. “I wish you would think twice about it.”
Geoffrey rolled his eyes. “You sound like Edouard.”
“I know,” Berard said. “I spoke to him, remember? And he’s right. Essa has her own enemies and close association with her will make them yours as well. Not to mention you risk problems with Duke Guilhem, and Ana, after all that you did to keep her - to say nothing of your wife.”
“And how is the queen?” Geoffrey wondered.
“She did not wish to see me, nor I her,” Berard admitted. “I think she sees me as too close an ally… to you and my sister.”
“She’s not wrong,” Geoffrey said. “And, like any good king, I am always keen to reward my loyal allies.”
Geoffrey reached down and picked up the sword by his chair.
“A gift,” Geoffrey said as he presented his friend with the weapon.
Berard was wide-eyed and took it, looking it over. At the hilt, was an engraved rearing lion, the banner of House Perigord.
“You shouldn’t have,” Berard said. “I have done nothing to deserve this.”
“You are a father,” Geoffrey said. “It is no small thing - as I can attest to - and should be celebrated.”
“Thank you,” Berard replied. “I just hope I prove worthy of this blade - as a friend and father.”
“As your father was to mine, and to you,” Geoffrey said as he raised his cup.
Berard smiled, though his eyes darting down made Geoffrey suspicious his friend took some measure of offense by the comment.
“Did I speak out of turn?” Geoffrey wondered.
Berard picked up his eyes and shook his head. “No, it is nothing.”
“You can tell me,” Geoffrey said.
Berard sighed. “Assalide… I can tell she has taken the rumors of my father’s… life, to heart. It bothers her visibly when he is discussed and she confessed to me she has heard he was a… sinful man.”
“She insulted your father to your face?” Geoffrey asked with brow raised.
“I pressed her on it when she was clearly bothered by my brother praising him one evening a year ago,” Berard said. “She is a good, pious woman and, like I said, cannot lie, even over the smallest of things. So when I demanded to know what bothered her, she could not hide it.”
Geoffrey stroked his chin. “I wonder what she thinks of me.”
Berard frowned and lowered his gaze. When Geoffrey arched his brow, the Perigord teen replied: “You don’t want to know.”
“Oh, but I do,” Geoffrey said. “You are practically my brother. I would like to know if my sister-by-law hates me.”
“She does not
hate you,” Berard said. “She just… questions your choices.”
“You… did not tell her about Essa, did you?” Geoffrey asked.
“No, but Ana is enough,” Berard said. “She worries you’ll be a poor influence on me, throwing whores into my bed while we are here in Brittany.”
“I won’t physically throw them,” Geoffrey said with a grin. But Berard did glance away. “Are you offended?”
“Not offended,” Berard said. “Just… I don’t want whores, Geoff. That’s all.”
Geoffrey eyed him. “Do you have a problem with my choices, as
she does?”
Berard looked down for a moment. “My brother said you bedded the Countess of Thouars. Is that true?”
Geoffrey rolled his eyes. “Alberic thought that because I offered her a place at the camp.”
“So it’s untrue?” Berard asked.
Geoffrey looked down. “As far as he knows.”
Berard narrowed his gaze. “He doesn’t know. But it
is true.”
“It was one time,” Geoffrey said. “I needed a good woman after my victory at Carhaix.”
Then the king paused. “And I don’t have to justify myself to you, or him.”
Berard raised his hands. “I know. It is your right. I just… I disagree with that, and especially Essa. But... that is all I will say. It is your life, Geoff. I cannot expect you to be Assalide, or myself, or your father, or my brother.”
Geoffrey nodded to that. Berard seemed sincere enough, and the king really did not wish to doubt his friend. He had missed him while he was back in Perigord.
“Well, I bet she would get along swimmingly with my wife,” Geoffrey said. “Perhaps a place among the queen’s ladies would be good for her.”
“I do think she would like that, though she did have words about the queen’s departure,” Berard said. “And how improper it was.”
“Ah, then she may not be so bad after all,” Geoffrey said as he raised his cup.
He took his drink and then looked past Berard as he noticed someone approaching. Perhaps appropriately, it was Alberic.
Berard shook his head after glancing back. “He probably thinks I aim to steal Perigord.”
Geoffrey smirked but asked: “Do you?”
“Of course not,” Berard replied. “It would not be stealing if you gave it to me. You are king after all.”
Geoffrey laughed but managed to stop before Alberic reached them.
“Something the matter brother?” Berard asked. “Or have you come for the view?”
Alberic stopped for a moment to look out. “Oh. It is rather… nice.”
Geoffrey gave a slight nod toward Berard and then turned to the Count of Perigord. “What is it Alberic?”
“Count Padric rides to meet you,” Alberic said. “He comes under a flag of truce.”
“Does he come to surrender or just negotiate the release of his wife and daughters?” Geoffrey asked.
“He did not say,” Alberic said. “But I would suspect both. His army is battered. You hold his ally and his family. What is the point of drawing this out any longer?”
“People can be stubborn, especially when it comes to bending the knee,” Geoffrey replied as he stood up. “Assemble the commanders then and let us head back. I want Padric properly greeted when he arrives.”
….
The keep was livelier than it had any right to be.
Given it had been sacked a few weeks before, the main hall should have been depopulated, if not desolate. It was true they had negotiated a surrender, but even still, things happened after sieges. Soldiers took to plunder, both of material valuables and women. Invariably, some would be killed.
And that had happened when St. Pol de Leon fell. But Geoffrey decided to take a page out of his father’s book for this meeting, and wanted a show to properly celebrate his victory. He could not have paraded the Duchess of Dauphine through Bordeaux, but he could make Count Padric a “trophy” of sorts.
With fewer people left in the keep, Geoffrey had told his guards to allow entry of the common people to the main hall so they might see their lord bow before his new masters. Some no doubt stayed away out of fear of their conquerers, but enough came to fill out the hall completely.
Fear or not, people like to see a man humbled, Geoffrey thought.
Especially a noble.
For effect, Geoffrey had assembled his commanders along the small dais, which was just one step above the floor in the hall. A group of his household knights stood in front, with only a gap in the center, providing Geoffrey a clear view of the area in front.
The question of his seat was something Geoffrey deliberated. While he didn’t want to necessarily copy his father in every way, he did wonder what the old king would have done. Would have sat himself in Padric’s old chair, just to drive home the point that he now owned this keep? Or would he have considered the seat beneath him, and replaced it with his own.
Of course, Geoffrey knew he’d never be certain the answer, and ultimately decided that for his purposes, it was the latter. And so Padric was treated to the sight of a larger, taller throne than his own more simple wooden chair when he entered the main hall.
He did so with head held high - undeserved in Geoffrey’s opinion - along with other mail-laden men. They walked heavy, their weapons rustling against the metal, and might have been an impressive sight for the young king, had they not entered as “visitors” to the keep they owned just a month before.
Count Padric did not kneel when he entered, nor did he bow before Geoffrey, who was flanked by Foulquesson and Herve, stopping before the small dais and awaiting introduction.
“Count Padric, lord of Leon,” Alberic said. After Geoffrey nodded, Alberic turned back to the count. “You come here under a flag of truce, but the king’s patience runs short. State your business.”
Padric took a moment to glare at Alberic, but did not respond to him, instead turning his gaze to Geoffrey. “King Geoffrey, I come to accept your offer of peace.”
Geoffrey leaned forward in his throne. “Oh,
now you do? I made the offer months ago, after I captured your father-by-law at Carhaix.”
Padric nodded. “I know. I had to take time to consider it and convince those with me it was the right decision. Otherwise, there would be no peace - just continued war, with someone else at the lead.”
“Liar,” Foulquesson grunted. “You tried to burn Huelgoat.”
“Uncle,” Geoffrey said as he raised his hand. “That’s the best you can do for continuing to fight? Blame others?”
Padric’s stoic expression did not give away any fear at the accusation. “It is the truth. There are many in these lands who would rather die than accept Frankish overlords.”
“Well that is your first mistake,” Geoffrey said. “For we are d’Oc, not Frankish - as my father would say, descendants of Rome.”
“We don’t exactly care for Romans much either,” Padric said. “Real or
pretenders.”
The king was surprised, and felt a touch annoyed by Padric’s arrogance. But he managed to respond with a chuckle and saying: “You are brave. Foolish too. Should I add overly confident? After all, you expect me to believe you simply had to convince your lords, when you moved to attack my uncle’s lands in Huelgoat after my offer of peace?”
Padric nodded. “My army needed food and supplies. We could not come to Leon, as you were here.”
“Ah, then perhaps I was mistaken,” Geoffrey said. “Not so foolish, but not so brave either, as to risk yourself against my army. You’d only send your father-by-law to do that - and well… we know how that turned out.”
Geoffrey glanced down at Abbain, who stood between Herve and Alberic. He was unbound, as had been promised at his capture, and was without his weapon.
“We can verbally joust at each other all day long,” Padric said. “Or we can talk peace.”
Geoffrey grew wide-eyed for a moment -
does he think he can dictate this meeting to me? After I have crushed his army, his alliance, taken his keep, his wife and daughters?
“You should be mindful of your position Padric,” Geoffrey warned. “I hold everything of yours - and I can choose whether or not to return them.”
Geoffrey signaled his guards, and they pushed forth three prisoners - Countess Dub-Essa and her and Padric’s daughters, Mari and Berchet.
Padric already knew they were in Geoffrey’s hands - that is why he likely came to negotiate a surrender. The sight of them caused Padric to avert his eyes, glancing down to his boots.
“What terms do you offer?” Padric asked, not picking his gaze back up.
“You will submit to Aquitaine, and fealty to my uncle,” Geoffrey said.
That drew Padric’s gaze once more. “You previously said you would accept me as your vassal.”
“That was before,” Geoffrey said. “You did not accept then. So that offer is gone.”
And if this meeting is any proof of anything - I want no part of dealing with you, Geoffrey thought.
My uncle desired your lands, he can have you too.
“I came here to accept your original offer,” Padric said. “I will need time to consider this one.”
“Oh for…” Geoffrey blurted out. Then when he noticed that outburst had drawn the eyes of the hall, he realized he had made a mistake.
My father never would have...
While his stomach churned out of embarrassment, and he felt the heat of his face, Geoffrey made a quick, and perhaps rash, decision.
Might as well go with it, he thought.
“I’m… I’m tired of this,” Geoffrey said. “I have been more than fair. But I am not going to give you more time to pillage the lands of Aquitaine and then fly a flag of truce when you sense I am coming to crush you. My offer is this - accept this peace or prepare yourself for battle. And know that when I win, you will not swear fealty to me or my uncle, because you will no longer be lord of Leon, or of anything. I will take this keep myself, and give it to who I want. Or have it for myself - I do like the view of the coast.”
Padric shook his head. “You cannot expect me to make such a decision in so little time.”
“That is
exactly what I expect,” Geoffrey said, his voice rising as his breathing grew rushed. “You can accept it, and keep your lands. Or you can resist it, and lose everything. Your lands. Your title. Your wife. Your children. The choice is up to you. But make it fast.”
Padric looked up at his family and then back at the knights behind him, many of whom did not return the favor, looking in all manner of directions.
“Take his offer!” Abbain shouted. “Do not be so petty and foolish! You’ve lost. Accept it!”
“Easy for you to say!” Padric shouted back. “It is not your knee that bends!”
“It sounds like you have decided then,” Geoffrey said, his heart racing now. “If that is the case, begone from here - and prepare your men for our next battle.”
“I… I…” Padric stammered. Then he lowered his head. “I… accept your terms of surrender, King Geoffrey. My king, Geoffrey.”
Geoffrey could not not even smile, his heart was beating so fast. He was tempted to throw Padric out anyway, he’d been angered so much by him. And it took him a moment to bring his breathing to normal.
“Uncle,” Geoffrey said as he jerked his head toward Foulquesson. “Administer your vassal oaths.”
“Now?” Foulquesson asked.
“Yes now!” Geoffrey said. “I don’t want to give this fool of a count time to reconsider.”
The Duke of Brittany shrugged before stepping off the dais and approaching Padric, who dropped to a knee. Then the pair awkwardly attempted to recite the standard pledge of vassalage, but Foulquesson clearly did not know how it was all supposed to go. He stumbled over words, delivered lines out of order - held long pauses as he tried to remember what he was supposed to say.
All the while, Geoffrey was left, with mouth agape, staring on in disbelief at what he was witnessing.
Why did he not prepare for this? Geoffrey thought.
I told him I would not allow Padric to serve me - and he wanted this!
It took every bit of restraint Geoffrey had not to leap from his throne and administer the entire ceremony himself. He was pretty sure he could have done it from memory.
The whole exercise seemed to take forever, when it should have been over rather quickly. But eventually they did finish, Padric rose, and accepted the embrace from Foulquesson - though the count did little to hide his disgust at being touched by a man who was clearly disfigured.
Geoffrey frowned.
My father would have never stood for such a shoddy show.
Padric then looked to Foulquesson. “My daughters and my wife. They can be released?”
Before Foulquesson could respond, Geoffrey said: “I hold them, not my uncle. I wished for your relationship as subject to my uncle to be fair and it would not be if he held your family.”
“Then you will release them?” Padric asked.
“I will not, until a ransom is paid,” Geoffrey said. “You have done nothing today to show yourself worthy of leniency. And yet I will still offer a measure of it - since you are now a subject of Aquitaine, I will lessen the price - 26 gold for each girl, and 46 for the countess.”
Had it been a male heir, Geoffrey would have charged more for Padric’s children. But in this case, he believed the Countess was more valuable, as she was still plenty young enough to birth more children - and give the count a boy.
“I cannot afford them all,” Padric said. “The war, which we did not ask for, has drained our coffers. I will pay for my daughters, but I cannot… ransom the countess at this time.”
“What?!”
Geoffrey was surprised to hear it, but even more shocked when he heard the voice. He, and the others present, looked on as the countess stood with her mouth open, slowly shaking her head.
“Husband,” she said, “I know of the treasury. You took it with you so it did not fall into their hands. There is more than enough to pay for my ransom, and our daughters.”
Padric lowered his head. “I’m sorry, dear wife. But… there is not enough.”
“But there is!” the countess shouted. “I know there is!”
Geoffrey sat, chin resting on his fist, turning his head back and forth with wonder. He could not believe what he was watching - a husband simply refuse to ransom his wife despite having the coin to do so.
And he clearly was not the only one.
“What trickery is this Padric?!” Abbain exclaimed. “Pay the damn ransom for her!”
“This is not the time for this discussion, Abbain,” Padric said.
“My daughter is to be hauled off to the dungeons of Bordeaux and you tell me that?” Abbain shouted. “Now is precisely the time to discuss it!”
“My keep was sacked and my lands ravaged,” Padric said. “If I wait, things may well collapse. I must rebuild, using that coin. In time…”
“My daughter is not for you to abandon until it is convenient to have her back!” Abbain said. “You made vows upon your marriage! To honor and protect her! Do it! Protect her damn it!”
Geoffrey turned his gaze back to Count Padric. “Well, are you?”
Padric lowered his eyes to the ground for a moment before looked back at the king. “I will do as I have stated. I will pay for daughters. I am sorry Bessie.”
He could barely look at the countess as he said the words and for her part, shouted and likely cursed in her Celtic tongue, at Count Padric while their father did the same.
But Padric, with the business of the day concluded, turned his back and departed the main hall, under a parade of shouts and jeers.
…..
It took Geoffrey a little while to regather himself after the meeting with Padric.
There had been bumps before in negotiations - his clumsy attempt at bedding the Duchess of Dauphine lingered in his mind - but this was something else.
Padric had angered him, Foulquesson had angered him and the count had refused to agree to the ransom of his whole family - even if Geoffrey had ultimately gotten what he wanted, none of it had gone according to plan.
Some show, Geoffrey thought.
My father would lambaste me for that disgrace.
It felt like he had lost control of the situation and he was embarrassed by it. Nearly everyone from Aquitaine had lived thought the old king’s carefully planned courts and shows. Whatever they thought of him, they could not deny he always seemed to have control of the situation.
But what just happened was not that. It had teetered very close to coming apart - and the illusion of a king whole held total mastery of the situation may have been shattered.
“It was fine,” Berard assured him in Padric’s chambers afterward. “You got what you wanted.”
“My outburst… my father never would have done that,” Geoffrey said as he sat at a table.
“That’s good. You’re not your father, remember?” Berard insisted. “Padric didn’t expect it and that was what brought him to heel. I am saddened I will not see a battle this campaign but, it is the peace you wanted. On your terms.”
Geoffrey shut his eyes and tried his best to calm his breathing and his heart.
Berard is right, he thought.
My methods don’t have to be my father’s, so long as they work.
“Count Padric,” Berard continued. “That man is a piece of work.”
Geoffrey nodded. “The nerve of him. He acted as if he were my equal, as if I had not completely bested him at every turn.”
“And to do abandon his wife!” Berard exclaimed. “I could understand favoring the children if he had little gold. But that is not the case! He is just… selfish!”
“A disgrace,” Geoffrey said. “Even now, if someone held my wife captive, I would pay the ransom.”
“He is a snake,” Berard warned. “I understand why you let him keep his title and lands, but I am glad you have given him to your uncle to deal with.”
“Aye,” Geoffrey said. “For once, I hope my uncle’s temper is put to good use.”
Geoffrey took a drink from his cup of wine and then leaned back in his chair. His heart was finally beginning to slow, and he was calming down.
“I… I should speak to the countess,” Geoffrey said.
“What is there to say?” Berard asked.
“To comfort her,” Geoffrey said. “As you said, it is a disgrace what Padric has done to her. The lady was shocked herself. It is only right to reassure her that she will be treated well while in our custody.”
Berard eyed him, and swallowed hard. Eventually, he nodded, but looked away from Geoffrey.
“What?” Geoffrey asked.
“Nothing,” Berard said. “You do what you must.”
Geoffrey frowned. “You can’t hide from me, Berard. What do you have to say?”
Berard shook his head. “I’m no fool Geoff. I know what you intend to do. Padric angered you, the lady is likely angry with him…”
Geoffrey rubbed his hand over his mouth. The thought had crossed his mind.
“I am uncertain of what I plan to do,” he replied. “Aside from offering her my sympathies.”
“I understand your frustration and anger toward him,” Berard said. “And you are free to dismiss all I have to say. But since you asked, I will tell you that it is wrong.”
“I would give her a choice,” Geoffrey said.
“She is your captive and is to be for some time, if not forever - she has no choice,” Berard said. “That is your right as king, but it is not something I approve of.”
“Because of your sister,” Geoffrey snapped. “And your wife.”
“Yes,” Berard said. “But also because it unnecessary. You’ve won. Padric’s disgraceful behavior is clear for all to see - there is no need for you to do anything that would grant him sympathy.”
“I wouldn’t make it public,” Geoffrey said.
“Then what is the point?” Berard demanded.
“I will keep that in mind,” Geoffrey said. “In the meantime, have the countess fetched from the dungeons. I will speak with her, at the least. Alone.”
Berard frowned but nodded. And after he left, Geoffrey was left to shake his head.
His wife, she influences him, Geoffrey thought.
And she could never understand.
But while he found himself caring little for what Alberic believed, Geoffrey’s stomach twisted at the thought that Berard would think less of him. Berard
NEVER thought less of him - he always backed him.
Am I… so wrong that even he must speak up?
He was still struggling with that question and was about to pray as the countess was led into the chamber. Thus instead of dropping to his knees, Geoffrey stood upon her arrival. Unlike her husband, the lady bowed before him.
“You called for me, my… king?” she asked.
Geoffrey didn’t respond at first, looking at her. The lady’s head was covered, though he could see strands of red hair escaping from under her headdress. Her face was sullen - though what else could be expected after her husband had abandoned her?
She no doubt hates him, Geoffrey thought.
She would like revenge.
But Berard’s words remained with him.
But how would I know?
“Yes… I did,” Geoffrey said as he sat back down. “Bessie is it?”
“I am to be called whatever you like, my king,” the countess said. “For I am not only your subject, but your prisoner. Perhaps forever, for my husband seems uninterested in freeing me.”
Her words were sad at first, but the venom bled through by the end.
“Yes, it is unfortunate what your husband has done,” Geoffrey told her. “I did not expect it.”
“Nor did I,” the countess said. She sighed. “I don’t suppose you could find it in your heart to release me? Not for him, for he does not deserve it. But I do not wish to be separated from my daughters. They should have better than Padric to guide them.”
Geoffrey sighed. “I cannot, my lady. I made a demand of your husband. I cannot go back on it now. Perhaps in time, but not now.”
The countess lowered her eyes. “I see, my king.”
He didn’t expect to feel guilty, but the whole scene in the main hall had been so pitiful, Geoffrey could not help but feel a sadness for her. It would be nothing to alleviate her pain - the money wasn’t that important. But he did have a point to make.
“I cannot release you,” Geoffrey said. “But I will permit the release of your father. We at peace and Eire’s business means little to me.”
That and it is unlikely I ever receive payment from him, Geoffrey thought.
By the time he found the coin, he’d likely have died in my hands.
“That is kind of you, my king,” the countess said. “I’m certain my father will be grateful.”
She did not appear any happier, though Geoffrey guessed the release of her father was scant consolation given the circumstances. Her freedom was still at an end, with a husband who betrayed her.
“There is more,” Geoffrey continued. “You will not be treated as a prisoner. You will reside in Bordeaux, and be allowed to move about with limited escort. You are free to take two ladies of your choosing to accompany you, along with all of your belongings. You will be permitted to join feasts and sup with the ladies of the court, should they have you, and you wish it.”
The countess nodded and bowed her head. “That is most generous, my king. I thank you for this. Perhaps you are a better man than my husband.”
She did not seem much happier, but Geoffrey figured a “generous” imprisonment was still an imprisonment.
“Do you require anything else of me, my king?” she asked.
Geoffrey’s heart raced once more. Now was the moment. He could make his offer to her. And he was pretty confident she would accept. Because how could she refuse? Her husband had abandoned her, and she was his captive…
And there it was.
“No, that is all,” Geoffrey said.
The countess bowed before him, and then exited the chamber to be escorted away by guards. Geoffrey then requested Berard return to the room. If he was going to pass on attempting to bed the countess because he didn’t want to displease his friend, he might as well get some praise for it.
Berard re-entered the chamber and looked around, perhaps for the countess. When he did not see her, he stepped forward to the table where Geoffrey still sat.
“How did it go?” Berard asked.
“You’re here. And not her,” Geoffrey said. “I think that says it all, does it not?”
Berard smiled. “Thank you for listening. I know you didn’t have to.”
“You’re right,” Geoffrey said. “I didn’t.”
“It will be better for everyone in the long run,” Berard said. “There wasn’t much benef---”
Geoffrey put up his hand. He didn’t want to hear the reasoning.
“Berard, sit,” Geoffrey ordered. After Berard listened, the king poured out a cup of wine and put it down hard on the table, before telling him: “Drink.”
Berard eyed Geoffrey for a moment before picking up the cup. He looked at the red liquid within in silence. Then a small grin formed on his lips.
“Didn’t you miss me, Geoff?”
Geoffrey stared at Berard. He said nothing at first, but started slowly shaking his head. And then a smile followed, before he brought the cup to his lips and let loose a small laugh.
“I did.”
