Before Plantagenet - Chapter 253
November 1133 - Bordeaux, Kingdom of Aquitaine
Perhaps I have been watching the wrong uncle.
Geoffrey could not shake that thought as he made his way through the halls of the palace. Had things been going to plan, he would have been on his way to his strategy hall for a vote on the war with England. With Prince-Bishop Emmanuel and Bishop Edouard now backing him, he could declare his intent to install Ælfflæd as queen whenever he wanted and there was nothing Duke Guilhem could do to stop him.
Except, perhaps, unite the other parts of my family against me, he thought.
Whether that was the Duke of Poitou’s ultimate goal, or just a happy coincidence for him, Geoffrey was unsure. Guilhem was less than forthcoming when Geoffrey quizzed him on the union with Duke Foulquesson’s daughter - saying the young Marguerite was a fetching woman from one of the realm’s most powerful lords. Geoffrey had sarcastically thanked him for telling him what he already knew.
He thought of asking the new duchess herself, but that was currently impossible. While Duke Guilhem had returned to the palace, he had done so alone. His new wife remained in Poitou, possibly because Guilhem was uncertain what action Geoffrey might take with regards to trying to annul the marriage.
As king, Geoffrey could try to argue he had the right to block a marriage that did not occur with his consent. Of course, he knew full well that would not go over well - even if he considered himself powerful than most monarchs in Europe, he had taken enough history lessons to know kings who overly flaunted their royal prerogative could find themselves in hot water.
But his greatest concern was the reasoning behind it - reasoning which would not vanish even if the marriage somehow did.
Ever since he was a boy, Geoffrey had known Foulquesson and Guilhem disliked each other - a bitterness that dated back to their respective mothers. Foulquesson, second son of the Iron Duke Foulques and his third wife, Haldora Yngling and Guilhem, the legitimized bastard third son of Foulques and his lover, Ness de Limoges. Haldora hated Ness and Foulques, having been humiliated by the Iron Duke’s flaunting of his lover in a manner that outdid even Geoffrey’s affair with Ana.
There had been an uneasiness with all of Foulques legitimate children and Ness’ brood, but it had been especially strong between Foulquesson and Guilhem. Their animosity was to the point where Geoffrey had been advised to keep them apart if at all possible.
Only now, they not only had come together, but joined their familial branches in marriage.
Now. Right before I launch my invasion of England, taking my entire levy with me.
It didn’t sit right with Geoffrey. Not after Guilhem over the past two years. Not after Aines tried to kill the prince. For all his potential enemies abroad, he seemed to find plenty within his own family.
All this time he had thought it was the Duke of Poitou who plotted against him. But perhaps he was not alone. Foulquesson would never have set aside his animosity toward Guilhem without good cause.
And what better cause than a kingdom?
While Foulquesson himself would have dubious claims, given he had little to no blood of the de Poitous who ruled Aquitaine for generations, the Duke of Brittany may not have been interested in himself. His son, Geoffrey’s cousin Ancel, was somewhat high in the realm’s line of succession. He was behind the prince, the child Ælfflæd carried, and Prince Alias, but he was the first among everyone else as Geoffrey’s oldest sister’s only boy.
And though he did not think Foulquesson likely to have the patience to murder his son’s way to the throne, Geoffrey couldn’t put it past his uncle that he might try to take it by force.
He tried to take Brittany and overstepped his bounds, Geoffrey thought.
So he is not afraid of bold, reckless and stupid decisions.
To put his mind at ease, Geoffrey wanted his uncle to come to Bordeaux and answer for it. But the Duke of Brittany had refused, sending Geoffrey’s sister Duchess Beatritz and Ancel in his stead.
Naturally, that just incensed Geoffrey further, and raised his suspicions to boot.
But he was forced to look at the bright side - he could be far harsher in his interrogation of his sister and nephew than he could one of the most powerful lords of the realm.
Beatritz and Ancel had arrived at the palace not long before, and Geoffrey had not been there to greet them. No one, except Berard and Edouard had been, and the councilors had been directed to escort the pair to a small, windowless chamber in the palace. It was far less accommodating than someone of their rank and blood would have expected - which Geoffrey felt suited the situation perfectly.
In his calmer moments, Geoffrey would have paused to gather his thoughts and take a deep breath before entering the chamber. But today, the king just shoved the door open when he arrived, blowing past the guards at the door, itching for a fight.
He found Beatritz sitting at an empty table and Ancel standing in the corner. Both raised their gaze to him as he entered, but neither directly acknowledged him before Geoffrey slammed the door behind.
Ancel’s brow rose and he eased off the wall, possibly out of concern. But Beatritz was unflinching, with the same smug bit of self-righteousness that reminded him so much of his mother’s worst qualities.
“Sister,” Geoffrey said. “Nephew.”
He normally addressed Ancel by “cousin” but today he wanted the extra authority “nephew” provided.
“My king,” Ancel said as he bowed.
“Brother,” Beatritz said, unflinching.
“You know why you are here,” Geoffrey said.
“Because I am left to mediate another conflict between my husband and brother,” Beatritz said.
“There is no mediation sister,” Geoffrey said. “I had expected your husband. After all I did for him, answering my request is the least he could do.”
“You know he has little stomach for conversation,” Beatritz replied. “War is all he has time for these days. And he prepares for yours.”
Normally, the thought one of his vassals was readying for his war would have made Geoffrey smile. But today was not a normal day.
“That is no excuse,” Geoffrey said. “Given he has conducted this marriage without approval from the crown.”
“Would it not be Guilhem’s duty, being he is the groom?” Beatritz asked.
In truth, it was such a formality that Geoffrey wasn’t even certain
who did it. He rarely even knew of the requests - Bishop Edouard handled all that came forth from the lower classes in the king’s holdings. Whether the king actually had the power to stop a wedding was another matter - lords did over those in their lands, but did the same rights extend to Geoffrey over his nobles?
Geoffrey suspected no one quite knew the answer, since he couldn’t remember a time where it was actually invoked. But the threat that it could be used suited him well enough.
“You know full well our uncle is less than forthcoming,” Geoffrey said. “And given the speed at which the wedding proceeded, I suspect both sides had every intention of keeping it from me.”
“Do not be so vain, brother,” Beatritz said. “It had far more to do with my husband than you.”
“What do you mean?” Geoffrey demanded.
“Father is prone to mood swings,” Ancel explained. “Especially these days. We feared he would suddenly change his mind and deny the duke my sister’s hand. Such a thing would be embarrassing and problematic.”
“And why did he agree to it in the first place?” Geoffrey demanded.
“He has seen the futility of family squabbles,” Beatritz said. “I would not have expected
him to be one to emulate, but here we are.”
The nerve of her to throw that in my face after she cried the way she did before, Geoffrey thought.
“Foulquesson has never been a man of reason or compromise,” Geoffrey said. “You are not being true with me.”
“Mother is making it seem simple,” Ancel said. “Father took convincing. But eventually he saw the value in it.”
“Which is?” Geoffrey demanded.
“Well cousin, let me quote him,” Ancel said. He cleared his throat before in a gruff, muffled tone added: “If Guilhem is the bridge to his welp in Toulouse, so be it. Guilhem will probably never even bed her - he’ll have to send one of his knights for that! Or maybe, my nephew will enjoy her as he did the duchess.”
Geoffrey swallowed hard, his breathing shallow. He did not know where to begin.
“Ancel!” Beatritz exclaimed.
“What? It is what he said,” Ancel replied. “I thought our king deserved to know the truth.”
Frowning, Beatritz turned back to Geoffrey: “Forgive my son
and husband. They sometimes take far too much after our grandfather than is to my liking.”
“You
all take far too many liberties for my liking,” Geoffrey grumbled. “You forget who is responsible for your positions. If not for my father, you all would be mere courtiers.”
“
Our father,” Beatritz said.
Geoffrey glared at her, uncertain of whether to throw the rumors over her parentage in her face.
“Then you disrespect to the one he entrusted his legacy to,” Geoffrey said through gritted teeth.
“It is no disrespect,” Beatritz argued. “I simply don’t see how who my daughter is married to is any of your concern.”
Geoffrey leaned over the table, getting close to her face to say: “Oh but it was my concern when you came to me, pleasing to intervene in Brittany or else your family would suffer?!”
“I was not aware we needed to consider your council wars in everything that we did,” Beatritz said. “You expect your entire kingdom to treat Duke Guilhem as a pariah because he blocked your aims?”
That would have been nice, Geoffrey thought. But he knew he could not rightfully demand that.
“I would not have expected my own sister to make nice,” Geoffrey said. “Nor my uncle who already disliked the man. It leaves me to wonder… what do you plan?”
Beatritz’s eyes widened. “Do you accuse us of something, brother?”
“I’m not certain,” Geoffrey said. “But why else would you join with a man your husband hates and who is so untrustworthy, he plots against family?”
“You speak again, as if his actions toward you apply to us all,” Beatritz said.
“I don’t just speak of that,” Geoffrey said. “He does other things - like plotting to murder Duke Adhemar’s son… our cousin.”
“What?” Beatritz demanded. “You jest!”
“I do not,” Geoffrey said. “Adhemar told me of the plot months ago.”
“If you were speaking the truth, you would have arrested him!” Beatritz said.
“Doing so risked civil war,” Geoffrey said. “I sought to avoid it, following advice from Adhemar himself, who believes his son is well protected. But it does not make it any less true.”
“How… how could you not have mentioned this?!” Beatritz demanded.
“I
would have, if you had consulted me before,” Geoffrey said.
Beatritz’s breathing grew rushed, and her eyes fell to the table. Her distress was evident enough that Ancel came to her side.
“Mother… it’s alright,” Ancel said. “I’m sure…”
“What if he plots against you?” Beatritz demanded as her eyes shifted to him. “Your sister is next in line to Brittany!”
“He will not,” Ancel said.
Geoffrey smirked. Despite Ancel’s confidence, this might be the break he needed for them to agree to an annulment and drive a wedge between his uncles once more.
“There is an option sister,” Geoffrey said. “Agree to an annulment. I’m certain your husband will be no bother to convince, given this new information.”
Beatritz shook her head.
“He is not the problem. We will never get an annulment.”
“Sister,” Geoffrey said. “Who do you think I am? Prince-Bishop Emmanuel will understand and with my backing, will agree to it.”
“He will not,” Beatritz said. “The holy father himself has approved the union. We cannot go back on it now.”
Geoffrey straightened up. “What? How did you get Martinus’ approval?”
“We didn’t at first,” Beatritz said. “Local officials gave their approval and we sent for the holy father’s blessing. But we proceeded with the union before we received his word. Then a few days ago, it came, granting approval.”
Geoffrey was silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. But eventually, he loudly exhaled before shaking his head. “Of course. Of course Martinus would do that. And he won’t give the annulment. He’ll want this to weaken me. To weaken our family.”
“I didn’t know,” Beatritz said.
“Well perhaps you should have told someone who did!” Geoffrey snapped.
Beatritz’s face fell into her hands. When she lifted it up, tears were in her eyes.
“Why are we like this?” she asked. “Why is it always something?”
She paused as the tears streamed down her cheeks. Then she looked down and said: “I hate this family.”
Geoffrey rolled his eyes. “We are far from the only family with problems. Look no further than the sad state of my wife’s family. Or what befell the de Poitous.”
Beatritz glared at him. “Your wife’s family has been harmed by others, not themselves. And may I remind you that
we are the descendants of the de Poitous? And will we be doomed to follow in their footsteps, backstabbing and destroying one another until we are no more?”
Given his fears and suspicions, the mere thought was enough to send a chill down Geoffrey’s spine.
To make matters worse, as much as he was annoyed by her at the moment, seeing his elder sister in tears was enough to make him feel something. He wasn’t sure if it was sympathy, but it was uneasiness. And he saw no point in pushing her any further.
“Sister, why don’t you go visit mother,” Geoffrey said. “I’m sure she is disappointed I did not allow her to see you when you arrived.”
Beatritz didn’t need to be told twice. The Duchess of Brittany was to her feet quickly, wiping her tears and making her way out of the small chamber. Ancel bowed toward Geoffrey and then moved to follow her out.
“Ancel,” Geoffrey said. “I did not say you could go.”
The pair stopped and looked back at the king. Beatritz took a step back.
“Brother, there is no need…”
“Mother,” Ancel interrupted. “It’s fine. I don’t mind.”
Beatritz followed her son’s instruction, dropping her appeal, and after one more teary glare at her brother, left the chamber, closing the door behind.
Ancel then slowly made his way back toward the table where Geoffrey stood beside, with the king watching him every step of the slow journey.
“Did you really need to bring my mother to tears?” he asked.
“I did nothing of the sort,” Geoffrey said. “She realized how foolish she has been. Hardly my fault.”
“She’s your sister,” Ancel said. “The least you could show is some sympathy!”
“I did,” Geoffrey said. “I let her go. Now, you will remember your place, nephew. And at the moment, that is before me, in that chair, answering my questions.”
Now it was Ancel’s turn to glare at him. He’d heard the young man was developing a reputation for having a temper akin to his father’s, though Geoffrey had yet to see it in person. Apparently, he had enough self control to restrain himself in front of his king.
Geoffrey returned to his seat, opposite Ancel. Meeting his gaze, the king said: “I want to know why it happened. And how.”
“I told you,” Ancel said. “My father saw the value in it, even if some of the reasons were misguided.”
“He may have,
eventually,” Geoffrey said. “But I know you have been negotiating with our uncle for a while now.”
Ancel’s eyes widened. “You… knew about that?”
“I am king,” Geoffrey said. “I have ears everywhere.”
Of course, he didn’t always listen. It was only after the fact that he’d learned Ancel and Beatritz were talking to Guilhem for so long, though for what was apparently not known to Count Douard’s spies until the marriage revealed the truth.
“So then why do you need me or my mother?” Ancel demanded. “If you know so much?”
“I don’t know it all,” Geoffrey said. “So I’m going to ask you some questions. Some things I know. Some things I don’t. I won’t tell you which is which - so don’t lie. It might make me think all you have to say is suspect.”
Ancel nodded slowly before asking. “Then what do you want to know?”
“How it came together,” Geoffrey said.
“Quickly in the end,” Ancel said. “But yes, I had been talking to our uncle for a while. We began to… chat at Count Herve’s funeral.”
Given his humiliation over the Sarrazine affair at the same time, Geoffrey was left to wonder if Herve’s funeral had been one of the worst nights of his life.
“Why?” Geoffrey demanded. “Given your father’s hate of him?”
“That’s just it,” Ancel said. “His hate is that - his hate. Inherited from my grandmother, true, but did I need to have it as well? What you told me in Brittany stuck with me. About fighting old wars… the wars of our parents. So I decided to do something about it.”
His response gave Geoffrey pause. Ancel listening to him being the cause for this situation… was not something expected.
“I don’t know if I would have advised going that far,” Geoffrey said.
“Easy for you to say,” Ancel replied. “You are king. My family has to contend with the other lords of the realm - of which Duke Guilhem now stands ascendant.”
“He has had an alliance to Toulouse for years,” Geoffrey said. “You did not seem to fear him before.”
“Duchess Essa would never have let him treat Toulouse as if it were his fief,” Ancel said. “Now… it is less certain. Yes Simon’s handlers limited our uncle, but how much can they really stop him? And as Simon grows older, he may well move closer to his father. It behooves me to put out the fires now. Or they may consume me later.”
“Your father doesn’t seem far sighted enough to accept such reasoning,” Geoffrey said.
“Well, I didn’t go to him at first,” Ancel replied.
“You went behind your father’s back?” Geoffrey asked. “I’ve been told that’s unwise.”
“For most, yes,” Ancel said. “But I’m his only son. And given he’s a leper who has not retired with my mother in years, I doubt that will change. He doesn’t want to leave his legacy to my sisters, so there is only so much he can do to me.”
“You take a chance,” Geoffrey said.
Ancel shrugged. “It helps he can’t be bothered to do anything that’s not related to warring. I already oversee much of the administration of Brittany. And I had leave to negotiate my sister’s marriage, alongside my mother.”
Geoffrey scratched his head. “Wait, when did this happen again? Because Duchess Essa was still very much alive during Count Herve’s funeral.”
“We were not discussing Duke Guilhem then, cousin,” Ancel said. “The talk was more focused on Simon and his brothers.”
“Simon?” Geoffrey asked. “The same Simon promised to my sister?”
“I told uncle that,” Ancel said. “He didn’t care, but I said we could not negotiate anything so long as Simon and Princess Aines were betrothed. If that fell through, then we could talk.”
“You were offering him alternatives?!” Geoffrey demanded.
“He’s the Duke of Poitou, Geoff!” Ancel exclaimed. “He has alternatives already!”
Geoffrey grunted in frustration as he rubbed his temples. This was getting tiresome quickly.
“But again, I refused to entertain discussions on that,” Ancel said. “I was more interested in talking about our younger cousins, but my mother cared little for that. She wanted my sister to be at least a countess, and none of uncle’s other sons are promised land.”
Geoffrey shook his head.
If I had promised Guilhem that one of his sons would get Navarra, would my niece be promised to that boy instead?
But he didn’t say that, not wanting to reveal those talks to Ancel. Instead he pushed on with his hunt for the truth here.
“So it sounds like you were at a standstill,” Geoffrey said. “But things changed.”
“Duchess Essa’s death,” Ancel said. “It shook things up. Simon was now landed. And of course, Guilhem now without a wife. Originally, I thought it would mean he would break the betrothal with you. But that did not happen.”
“He has not really approached me to do so,” Geoffrey said. “Even after my sister’s latest bastard. Adhemar thinks Toulouse’s influence blocks him from doing so.”
“Maybe,” Ancel said. “I think, for all his complaints, he knew his children’s well-being were being looked after by the duchess. But once she was gone, his sons lost their greatest ally and protector from the crown.”
“So for all his posturing, he knew he benefited from …” Geoffrey began. But he stopped. He had no desire to let Ancel in on that.
The king cleared his throat. “He didn’t break the betrothal between Simon and my sister after Essa’s death. What then?”
“Then… my mother suggested we propose my sister as a wife to uncle Guilhem,” Ancel said. “I… was surprised, given how much closer they are in blood. I don’t think my mother would admit it… but I suspect she thinks as my father does… that they will never actually lay together.”
“You realize our uncle has three children,” Geofrey said.
“
Four,” Ancel said. “Four sons.”
“Yes, I meant four,” Geoffrey said. “Four, including Simon. My point being he clearly laid with her to have those children.”
“That’s not what a lot of people say,” Ancel said.
Geoffrey rolled his eyes. He didn’t need to hear these rumors.
“I don’t care what a lot of people say,” Geoffrey replied. “I might believe one or two of his children aren’t his. But all four? Unlikely. Sodomites can and do fulfill their marital duties. Count Alias was rumored to be one, and he and his wife had a large family.”
Ancel shrugged. “We will see. I have my doubts.”
“You are far too confident of your position,” Geoffrey said. “Especially since you’ve given the next in line behind you to him. You’re asking to be stabbed in the back, literally.”
“You make it seem as if there is no risk if we stay enemies,” Ancel said. “As if his house does not control a third of the realm.”
“You control a healthy part of it as well,” Geoffrey noted.
“A year and a half ago, I’d have agreed,” Ancel said. “Now? Guilhem has control of Poitou and influence in Toulouse - and when he passes Simon will hold both under his direct control. You have a third of the realm under your direct control, and it’s most prosperous lands. And now you plan to add a kingdom. It will be Brittany and Gascony, alone - and we have not always gotten along with Duke Adhemar, either.”
“So you do this for safety?” Geoffrey asked.
“Yes,” Ancel said. “I have to uphold my father’s legacy. And give something to my future children. I believe this union helps solidify that. I can’t look to him… or you… for everything. I need to stand on my own to strengthen my family.”
“And if Guilhem seeks to use Brittany against me?” Geoffrey demanded.
“I will not betray the crown,” Ancel said. “You are like an older brother to me Geoff. I look forward to the day I can truly serve you as one of your leading lords. There is much we can do.”
Geoffrey eyed his cousin. The king had hoped to get a sense of if Duke Foulquesson had been plotting against him. He felt that less likely now - it sure seemed Ancel sprung this on his father late on.
As it was, with papal sanction, there was little Geoffrey could do about the marriage now. Breaking the union would be a liability and probably not worth undertaking.
Still, Geoffrey did not want to appear impotent. If he had any hopes of moving forward with his plans, he could not afford to have his vassals think him weak.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Geoffrey warned. “I like you Ancel. I have missed you here since you’ve returned to Brittany. But if you push me… I will not hesitate to push back.”
Ancel nodded. “Of course, cousin. My king. And should I hear anything untoward with Duke Guilhem, you shall be the first to know.”
…..
Geoffrey didn’t expect his mind to be put at ease after the conversation, but he would have hoped to avoid his worry to grow worse.
Unfortunately, he failed in that task too.
Duchess Marguerite made her first formal appearance in her new title a week later, after Geoffrey didn’t bother to sanction the marriage but didn’t threaten annulment either.
He was absent upon her arrival, sending Ælfflæd and his mother Marguerite, along with Edouard and Adhemar in his stead. It was no accident - Geoffrey deliberately timed his daily riding exercise to when she was expected to arrive. It was petty. But it was better than having to stomach seeing Guilhem’s smug face as she was presented.
It was a snub that was sure to annoy Guilhem, Beatritz and possibly Ancel and Foulquesson. But since the Duke of Brittany didn’t show when he was called, Geoffrey couldn’t care less about appearances. If Guilhem and Beatritz were annoyed at him, so be it.
But he could not hide forever. And seeing his niece with his mother a few days later, just reminded Geoffrey of what the younger Marguerite could symbolize - a union of his most powerful vassals, fellow Angevins, who might seek to bring him down.
But his thoughts again wondered if he was focused on the wrong target. If Foulquesson was not plotting, and it did seem beyond him, then who was? And Geoffrey had a new suspect.
“Ancel,” Geoffrey told Adhemar, Berard and Count Douard as the councilors sat in the king’s chambers. “Have you heard anything of his plans?”
The three council members traded glances, all seemingly unsure of what to say. Seeing as it was a question that would fit best for the spymaster, however, eventually their gazes fell on Douard.
“I have not heard… anything really,” Douard said. “I passed what my spies learned of his talks with Duke Guilhem. Beyond that, he has been handling much of his father’s affairs… to be expected, given Duke Foulquesson’s disposition. And his illness.”
“Should we be hearing anything beyond that?” Adhemar asked.
‘I’m not sure,” Geoffrey said. “Given I was unaware of his efforts to make his sister the Duchess of Poitou and secure himself powerful allies... until it happened.”
“Understood,” Adhemar said. “But do you suspect he aims for something else?”
“As I said, I am unsure,” Geoffrey said, realizing he had nothing to back up his claims but his own fears.
“But there is reason to,” Berard said. “Ancel is next behind Prince Alias for the throne.”
“Who himself is behind the prince and the child the queen carries,” Adhemar said. “Not irrelevant, but also not exactly close at the moment.”
“And with questions surrounding his mother’s parentage,” Douard added.
“None of that matters if he has a large enough army,” Geoffrey said. “And mine is not present. He could have ties to Poitou, Toulouse and my cousin Small Fry in Charolais - that is a union of all of my strongest vassals.”
The councilors again looked at one another before Adhemar again took the lead.
“You had begun to suspect his father,” the chancellor said. “Now you switch to him?”
“I suspected
Brittany,” Geoffrey said. “And I remain suspect, even if my focus changes. I need to find the truth… before I move forward with my plans.”
“You are considering postponing your invasion of England?” he asked.
“Am I not right to, if I am uncertain my own kingdom?” Geoffrey demanded.
“You are,” Adhemar said. “But I think you have been spooked by being caught off guard by a surprising but relatively minor event with Poitou and Brittany.”
“The two parts of my family which are both strong and previously dis-unified have joined together,” Geoffrey said. “I think that a little more than minor.”
The king shook his head. “We have been caught off guard by my uncle too many times. No more.”
“It’s true that we have underestimated Guilhem,” Adhemar admitted.
“
Repeatedly,” Geoffrey grumbled.
“And we will not again,” Adhemar said. “But I think I have a plan to deal with him. And Ancel as well.”
“We can’t exactly move against Poitou,” Berard noted. “Duke Guilhem built himself a strong defense. If you decide to attack him, Brittany and Toulouse will be obligated to step in on his side.”
“I can beat them,” Geoffrey said. “I’ll give Brittany to my brother. Poitou to my son. And Toulouse to the babe in my wife’s belly. I will be secure and ready to move forward.”
“But you may lose England,” Berard warned. “It will take so long, the situation there could stop us from pressing the queen’s claim. And that is a far greater prize than these petty family squabbles.”
“I would not care if they were just squabbles,” Geoffrey said. “But Guilhem is a threat. And even if Foulquesson is not, I suspect my sister and Ancel are.”
“You are right to be concerned,” Adhemar said. “But there is a difference between that and provoking a war that will rip the realm in half. I know you are not the reader your father was, but you need only to look back at the failures of the brothers Capet, Kings Philippe and Hughes, to see the foolishness of setting a realm ablaze.”
Geoffrey frowned and crossed his arms. He still hated when his uncle made a reasonable point, but he accepted it meant he might have to listen. “So what do you plan?”
“Count Douard,” Adhemar said. “Is there any evidence Guilhem plots with Ancel or Duchess Beatritz for a rebellion?”
“None that I can find,” Douard said. “Some talk the duke looks to build for a war against Alphonse himself. But nothing against you, my king.”
“So he will attack Alphonse?” Geoffrey asked.
“Even that… he is hesitant to engage while you are set on war with England,” Douard said.
“Likely because he may look to you to aid him if things go poorly,” Adhemar suggested. “As Foulquesson did.”
“He will be sorely mistaken if he thinks I will come to his aid,” Geoffrey said. “I already regret it doing so for Foulquesson.”
“It is better to let him think it though,” Adhemar said. “It may make him hesitant to act.”
Geoffrey frowned. “But what if he does? And what if he has tricked us all, again, rebelling against me while I am gone in England? I cannot put the thought from my mind.”
“I can assure you,” Douard said. “I have heard nothing indicating he wishes to fight you directly.”
“Your ears don't hear everything,” Geoffrey said. “You did not snuff out that he was marrying my niece - just that he was having a feast of some sort.”
“That is true…” Douard admitted.
“The solution, nephew,” Adhemar began, “is to make certain it is not in his interest to rebel.”
“I have tried to find common ground,” Geoffrey said. “It is impossible.”
“There are other ways,” Adhemar said. “His son. Duke Simon.”
The young duke was actually in Bordeaux at the moment, having returned to formally greet his new stepmother, who under slightly different circumstances, might have been his wife. He had not been present at the wedding, again, likely to keep it a secret from Geoffrey.
“What of him?” Geoffrey asked.
“I think it would be good for him to accompany his king to England,” Adhemar said. “He is growing older. Learning an army camp, serving as a page or squire to the king would be invaluable for a boy who aspires to be one of the realm’s great lords.”
“You mean to take him as my ward?” Geoffrey asked. “I had him. Then after his mother died, I lost him to Toulouse. He had to be there, they said, even if others officially oversaw matters.”
“They, the lords and ladies of the duchy, have had a change of heart,” Adhemar said. “They have said as much to me. There is concern over the influence Toulouse may have, long-term.”
“The same lords and ladies who pressured Essa back to Toulouse?” Geoffrey demanded.
“They are a fickle bunch,” Adhemar said. “Now they see the alternative - the boy being led astray by his father, and toward conflict with the crown. They don’t want that. It will be their lands that burn as a result, after all.”
“So what are you saying?” Geoffrey asked.
“They would greatly enjoy having their duke accompany you to England,” Adhemar said. “And with him by your side, Guilhem would not dare rebel.”
“I put nothing past him,” Geoffrey said.
“He would not sacrifice his son,” Adhemar said. “But even if he were that cold, Toulouse would not permit it. The lords would refuse his call. Foulquesson would be with you, and Brittany’s levies with him. His support would not be there.”
For once, Geoffrey was glad Adhemar’s words made sense. Even if they didn’t completely put him at ease.
“But what about Ancel and my sister?” Geoffrey asked.
“They will not dare anything if Poitou and Toulouse will not come to their aid,” Adhemar said. “And Foulquesson will be with you in England, with much of Brittany’s forces.”
“You’re certain they will let Simon come?” Geoffrey demanded.
“They have already agreed to it,” Adhemar said. “I’ve had talks with his regent - as recently as today.”
“Without my approval?” Geoffrey asked.
“I did not think you would mind,” Adhemar said. “I am your chancellor and Simon, in your grasp as you say, is to your benefit.”
As much as Geoffrey didn’t like Adhemar doing such a thing without his authority, he could not deny this seemed to solve his problems - or at least provide a means to lessen his worry.
The king stood from his chair and walked to the window. Peering out at the town in the distance, he said: “I don’t need an enemy in my rear. Navarra was one thing - it is just to the south. But the last thing I need is a rebellion while my knights are in England.”
“Then you will never move forward,” Adhemar warned. “If it is not Guilhem, then it will be Simon when he is older. Or one of his brothers. If you wish to end your plans for England… I can understand. But know, there may be no better chance than this.”
Geoffrey closed his eyes. All of his ventures in war thus far, had been relatively easy pickings with little risk. There was never no risk - he could be felled in any battle he fought in, just as Herve had been. But the odds were always squarely in his favor, and he could deal with any threat quickly.
Just as father did when rebellion was stirred against him.
Geoffrey thought back to the Occitan revolt, which had laid siege to Bordeaux. But his father had come to relieve the siege, and killed the rebels. Because he had been in Brittany. What if he had been further away?
It could have been Aurilliac… only much, much worse.
But he did not think himself craven. Could he really sideline his plans out of fear? And fear with no real evidence?
I would cost my family a crown… because I jump at shadows?
Never mind that he had murdered the English king for such things. But perhaps, ultimately, this was the best move he could make. If Guilhem would build an alliance by adding Brittany… then Geoffrey would have to add a kingdom.
“Uncle,” Geoffrey said as he turned back to Adhemar. “Call the council meeting. The vote is today.”
Adhemar nodded. “I will. Shall I tell Duke Guilhem?”
“Yes,” Geoffrey said. “He needs to be there. I don’t want any excuses for why he has been wronged.”
“Understood,” Adhemar said. “When should I tell them it will be held?”
“Shortly,” Geoffrey said. “But I will fetch the queen. She must be there, since this is for her.”
“Of course,” Adhemar said. “And once it is done, I will have Bishop Edouard arrange for court tomorrow. There you can make your formal pronouncement - England acknowledges Queen Ælfflæd and you as their rightful rulers, or you shall take the crown by force.”
Geoffrey nodded. And with that, the three council members stood up and bowed before the king. Adhemar and Douard departed, but Berard remained.
“I’m tempted to leave you behind,” Geoffrey conceded.
“Why?” Berard asked.
“Because I want someone I fully trust,” Geoffrey said. “I’m not sure I do Edouard anymore - Guilhem is his brother.
Half-brother, but still. With my wife heavy with child, and my mother… being my mother, perhaps I need a better person in the palace.”
“I would have thought you went with Adhemar, if you changed from Edouard,” Berard said.
“My uncle has shown his worth, but he is craven,” Geoffrey said. “He could run if under threat.”
“I think you worry too much,” Berard said. “Edouard is loyal. He felt terrible over what happened with Navarra. And he does not like what Guilhem has done, marrying his niece. You can count on him.”
Geoffrey replied with a slight nod. Berard didn’t have to defend Edouard - that he did, made Geoffrey think perhaps he was being too harsh on his cousin.
“I notice you did not defend Adhemar,” Geoffrey said.
“Well,” Berard said. “He
is craven. I heard my father say as much more times than I could count.”
Geoffrey chuckled for a bit before looking up and asking: “What if it is Ancel?”
“You and he have always gotten along well,” Berard said.
“Power can corrupt,” Geoffrey said. “A thirst for power ruined my sister, after all.”
“Then we must move quickly to secure England,” Berard said. “For if Ancel and potentially Simon, stand as threats, then we best deal with them before they can come into their own.”
Geoffrey sighed. “Agreed.”
“Your position is strong,” Berard said. “It is not guaranteed - but as you told me before, nothing ever is. Strength - more of it than your foes - is all you can ask for.”
Geoffrey took a deep breath and nodded. “All right. Let us go and fetch my wife.”
The pair made the walk from the king’s chamber to the queen’s quickly. They were announced by the guard when they arrived, to discover Ælfflæd’s ladies grouped around the bed. The queen was not on it however, standing at the side, while Berard’s wife Assalide was upon it.
She was laying flat, her large, pregnant belly sticking up in the air. Helie stood above her, a necklace dangling over.
“Husband,” Ælfflæd said as she looked over. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”
A half year ago, Geoffrey might have thought his wife was being sarcastic. But between the England endeavor, and their child on the way, she was fairly personable toward him these days. But he was curious by what was happening before him.
“What is this?” Geoffrey asked.
“Helie is determining whether Lady Assalide and I are having a boy or a girl,” Ælfflæd explained.
Geoffrey’s brow arched. He let loose a chuckle in disbelief. “And how does she do that?”
“With this,” Helie said as she held up the necklace. “It determines whether it is a boy or girl. I have been using it for many years now. In fact…”
She looked him over and smiled. “I used it over your mother’s belly, when you grew inside it. And it told me then that you would be a boy.”
Geoffrey ran his hand through his hair and felt a bit flush from embarrassment. Sometimes he forgot how old Helie was, and how she’d seen so much. In fact, he realized, she’d probably seen him born.
Meanwhile, Ælfflæd grinned. “Helie, I do think you have done something impressive - rendered my husband speechless!”
Geoffrey narrowed his gaze toward his wife, who seemed unfazed by his response. Then, turning his eyes back on the oldest woman in the palace, he asked: “So what is it? What does the queen carry?”
“I have not seen yet,” Helie said. “We have done Lady Assalide first, since she is a bit further along.”
“Ah,” Berard said. “And what will Lida and I be blessed with?”
Assalide, now sitting up, smiled broadly as she cradled her swollen belly. “A girl, husband.”
Berard replied with a smile of his own. “Wonderful news. And even better if the queen carries another prince! For I think our daughter would make a wonderful wife to him.”
“Husband!” Assalide exclaimed, her face turning red.
Geoffrey smirked. “Worry not over your husband my lady. It is not anywhere close to the most outlandish thing he has said to me today.”
That just made Assalide’s eyes grow wide. “Berard! Truly?!”
“Well now you’ve gotten me into trouble,” Berard said. “What have you to say for yourself, Geoff?”
“I say, what does the queen carry, Lady Helie?” Geoffrey asked as he made his way over to the bed.
Assalide was helped to her feet by Benoite de Bourges, while Ælfflæd laid down in her place. Her belly did not seem to stick out as far as Assalide’s did, but then it was believed she was not quite as far along.
Once Ælfflæd was in position, Helie approached and dropped the necklace down over the queen’s belly. The ladies huddled around and fell silent as their eyes became fixated on the swaying chain.
Geoffrey thought of squeezing his way in, but was tall enough to see over Escarlemonde de Cholet, so he just stood behind her. But he wasn’t entirely sure what he was seeing.
“What do we watch for?” Geoffrey asked.
“If it moves back and forth, as it did your mother with you, it is a boy,” Helie said. “And if it moves in a circle, as it did for Lady Assalide, it is a girl.”
Geoffrey scratched his head and glanced at Berard, who shrugged. The peculiarities of a woman’s world, the king thought.
As he looked he wasn’t certain what he saw. He motioned back and forth with his hand, almost in hope of it going the way of a boy. Then he looked to Berard, who again shrugged.
“Well,” Helie said as she watched the necklace. “That looks to me as if it will be a princess. Sorry to disappoint your planning, Sir Berard.”
“Nonsense,” Berard said. “I have a son who has not been promised to anyone yet.”
“Berard!” Assalide again exclaimed.
“Sir Berard!” Helie exclaimed. “It is not right to stress a woman who is as far along as your wife.”
Berard’s brow rose as he turned his gaze to Geoffrey, clearly shocked the old woman had spoken to him so. But Geoffrey simply waved it off.
“It is all right Helie,” Geoffrey said. “I know he means nothing by it. And you need not worry either Lady Assalide. He is my advisor after all. He simply advises. I need not listen.”
The ladies began to chuckle at that as Berard’s cheeks turned pinkish.
“Yes well… there see, Lida?” he stammered. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Berard,” Geoffrey said as he placed his hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you escort your lady wife to your chambers and allow her to rest?”
“What of the council meeting?” Berard asked.
“Come after,” Geoffrey said. “We will not start without you. But honestly, I do not expect the queen and I to make great haste. She also swells with child after all.”
Berard nodded and offered his hand to Lida. Then with a bow before king and queen, which she nudged Berard into doing as well, Assalide left with her husband.
“I shall be escorting the queen to the strategy hall,” Geoffrey told the ladies and servants after the Perigords’ departure. "You all are dismissed until her return."
Helie nodded and motioned for all the women to vacate the queen’s chamber. When they were gone, Geoffrey looked to Ælfflæd and smiled.
“A daughter then?” Geoffrey asked. “You believe her?”
“She was right with our son,” Ælfflæd said. “And apparently with you.”
Geoffrey blushed again. “Yes well… I’m sure she’s had mistakes along the way.”
“You hope that much for another boy then?” Ælfflæd asked.
“It is not that I don’t wish for a daughter,” Geoffrey said. “But I think another son might make things… more stable. In case…”
“In case something happens to our son?” Ælfflæd said.
“I don’t like to think of such things,” Geoffrey said. “But… my brother. Your brother. We know such things are quite possible.”
“Aye,” Ælfflæd said. “I don’t wish to think on it any longer.”
Neither did Geoffrey, so he looked for a subject to lighten the mood. Thankfully, he had on the tip of his tongue.
“You seem to be getting along with Lady Assalide,” Geoffrey said.
“Does that make you happy?” Ælfflæd asked. “That she and I would become friends as you and Berard?”
“It would be nice, yes,” Geoffrey said. “I think she is a fine woman. And while Helie has been a fine lady, I do not expect her to live forever.”
“You think her a fine woman?” Ælfflæd asked.
“Don’t even suggest it,” Geoffrey said. “I am no Aubry Karling.”
Geoffrey knew even Ælfflæd would know that name. It may not have been openly spoken about, but the queen mother’s affair so many years ago was still something that made its way around the palace.
“She is interesting,” Ælfflæd said. “Very much one with an idea on how a proper lady should be. And I see she has ideas on a man’s proper place to his king - given how she worried how Berard spoke to you.”
“A common occurrence,” Geoffrey said. “Given her pregnancy, perhaps I should take care not to let Berard scare her so.”
“Yes, please do,” Ælfflæd said. “You have no idea how difficult this is. The woman does not need any undue stress in her life. Carrying a child is enough.”
“Ah, so you do care,” Geoffrey said.
“I would care even if she were a stranger,” Ælfflæd said. “Especially now, that I carry another child.”
“And how do you feel?” Geoffrey asked. “Things continue to be easier than with our son?”
“In some ways,” Ælfflæd said. “I know what to expect now. And the early days had far fewer worrying signs. But the child is growing bigger now. And much more uncomfortable.”
Geoffrey had missed most of Ælfflæd’s first pregnancy, having sent her back to Bordeaux while he remained on campaign in Dauphine. So he’d only heard of her experiences - namely she had been basically bedridden by the end of it, with a belly that had overtaken her stout but short frame.
He did not know if that would happen again, though given Ælfflæd had not grown any taller, only wider, in the interim, he suspected it might. Still, he felt a bit of a guilty pleasure over it - after all, he would soon have another child.
And as he ran his hand over Ælfflæd’s belly, he felt a kick.
“Strong,” Geoffrey said. “I think Helie is wrong and it is a boy after all.”
“Girls can kick strong,” Ælfflæd said. “My mother said I was far more forceful in her belly than my brother was. And a great deal more than Rae.”
“You wish for a girl,” Geoffrey asked.
“Sometimes,” Ælfflæd said. “Other times… I know it would be harder for her. So I think another prince would be better.”
“See we are of one mind,” Geoffrey said.
Ælfflæd sighed. “
I am not even of one mind, so how can we be?”
She shook her head. “So, is this talk to calm me? You said there is a council meeting and I will be coming. That must mean what I think it does.”
The king nodded. “It does. We will vote on whether I am free to press your claim for the English crown. I am told it is a formality. It will not be another Navarra.”
“You did not think it would be then, either,” Ælfflæd noted.
“I know, but it is different,” Geoffrey said. And if it wasn’t, then perhaps it was best he didn’t go to England, since it would prove he was unable to tell how serious the threats against him were.
Ælfflæd sighed. “So… this is it. Everything is about to change.”
“Has it not already?” Geoffrey asked. “We have taken many steps toward it. We knew this was coming. My lords and ladies knew this was coming. The church knows this is coming. Even the Saxon and Norman nobles know this is coming. The vote is, in many ways, a formality.”
“You say that,” Ælfflæd said. “But…”
She contoured herself off the bed and walked toward her window. Looking out, and not turning back to Geoffrey, she continued.
“In many ways, it does not feel real,” Ælfflæd said. “Even Ed’s… death. It was not here. It was there. Part of me thinks at times that he is still there, and that this has been a dream. Or a trick. After all, it does not feel different than before. When I close my eyes, I remember the last time I saw him… in England.”
“When he told you your son was the anti-Christ,” Geoffrey reminded her.
Ælfflæd furrowed her brow. “Yes.
That.”
“And yet you still have doubts,” Geoffrey asked.
“It is my home,” Ælfflæd said. “They are the people I have known my whole life. I make enemies of them. I may even... “
Her head lowered. “It is not easy to see all that you knew and love in danger of destruction. It is even harder to stomach it coming at your own hand.”
Geoffrey rose from the bed and made his way toward her. Turning her toward him, he tilted her head up to look at him. “This is not your fault. Do not think that.”
“I am your Boudica, am I not?” Ælfflæd asked. “She burned London? Will the same be done in my name? Is there any difference?”
“I will not level your homeland, if at all possible,” Geoffrey said. “I wish for you to have a place left to rule when this is all done.”
“You speak so glibly,” Ælfflæd said. “Because it is not your home.”
Geoffrey rolled his eyes. What else could he say?
“You wish for me to call it all off then?” Geoffrey asked, even if he knew he would not.
“No,” Ælfflæd said. “I mean, part of me does. That I could close my eyes, wake up and find my mother still living, my brother among us, and me capable of telling Adi that her plans are madness. But that is not possible. We have killed Ed. His wife may or may not know how much we were involved, and may well look to protect her daughter as we have our son. It must be done.”
“I could not have said it better myself,” Geoffrey replied.
Ælfflæd looked away from him and pulled herself from his grasp. “Let us go. There is no point in delaying this any longer.”
Her back turned to him as she slowly made her way from the chamber, Geoffrey smiled. For all his worrying, he was about to embark on something momentous. Something beyond the dreams of his fore bearers.
His father had forged a kingdom. But he had not fought one - not truly.
His grandfather had defeated the English before. But he had not subjugated them.
He remembered his aunt’s words to him.
Standing on the shoulders of my ancestors… and reaching higher.
And with his Boudica by his side, he would claim greatness that had not been seen in 300 years.
