The Song of Wessex
* * *
Angers, France – January 1304
The King sat at the high table in the great hall at Angers and marveled at the number of fit young men that attended the new Duke. All attractive and wearing the latest in Angevin fashion, they seemed to surround Lord Gerald at all times and there was a noticeable lack of fine ladies at this court even though Gerald was married. Arthur was given the place of honor at the feast and Lord Gerald sat to his right while on the left was a younger boy...a Prince of Brittany named Renan...that was the King’s prisoner. The war still raged even after Vannes fell, but it was no place to hold this young Prince and so Arthur took some few men with him and meant to hold this Prince in Anjou until he found his ultimate victory.
Lord Gerald was only too happy to oblige and feel the import that the King seemed to give him and had thus called a great feast to celebrate. Arthur was not terribly in the mood for it as he had need to rejoin his men, yet he allowed it for one night at least and Gerald held court as he boasted in the King’s name often, “His Grace tells of the greatest achievements, my Lords! Calumny in Ireland...rebellion to Vermandois...a Breton King that flees to the supposed safety of Navarre! Can you imagine?! Yet no place is safe for this fool Fragan the Breton and his keep has been sacked!”
Many applause filled the hall once more and Arthur showed a scowl, “You speak of the boy’s father, my Lord. I would be careful with your tongue.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” Gerald made bow with his head and showed some little apology to young Renan before looking back to his men, “And what does His Grace do when our enemy moves on Zaragoza to the south? Why...he sends in the great Lord Amedee of Bourbon! A true champion of the realm in every way!”
Arthur looked over to the boy and Renan seemed close to tears. Standing, the King looked not to Gerald but rather to the hall, “As my exploits are well told for me, I have no need to do so myself. And I must soon be back with my men. Thus I bid you adieu, my Lords, as I seem to have little appetite. The air grows foul and spoils the meat before me. Come now, my Lord Prince. Let us find you your bed.”
There was some shock within the hall when Arthur pulled the boy from his seat and left without even a glance to their Duke. None were more shocked than Gerald and not a little shamed by it. It was made worse when the Earl Anselm stood behind him and whispered, “His Grace would see you alone, my Lord Duke. To your solar, if you please.”
Lord Gerald offered a pleasant smile to all as he begged off and Anselm followed a respectful pace behind as they made their way to the solar. When they arrived, Arthur stood with great anger on his face, “Your great mother would be ashamed of you, sir!”
A quick bow was made before Gerald stood with reticence, “Your Grace? I know not...”
“You know very well of which I speak!” Arthur stood tall with his drink in hand, “Preening about like some swan! Taking my victories as if they are your own! My Lady Emma has not yet been dead a year and what do you do with Anjou, my Lord? No thing as I see it but make it your personal brothel!”
Gerald grew red in the face, “I...I merely meant to call you champion, Your Grace. No thing more...”
“Something more, I think!” Arthur answered before taking down his drink and slamming the goblet to a table beside him, “Do you think that I wished to call Baron Humphrey up to deal with these rebels in Vermandois? Do you think that I held great desire to send my Lord Amedee of to the wilds of Navarre to best these Bretons? Of course not! Yet I did not see you lift finger one in any effort, sir! Do not call bravery what is slothful...my Lord. And it is your sin...not mine!”
“Never, Your Grace!” Gerald held his head low.
Arthur took two large strides and stood before his Duke as he raised his head with force, “You will look at me when I speak to you! If your father had taken a firmer hand, mayhap I would not have to. Your ills are certainly no fault of your mother, I can assure you! Waterford is mine, sir. Vannes as well. Our Lord of Bourbon wins his battle in Loarre and marches once more to Navarre. These are my victories. Name me yours?”
“I...” Gerald stuttered, “...I have none, sire.”
“Indeed!” the King let go of him and stepped to the hearth, “Nor shall you if you keep these gaggle of fawns about you...all of them gelded, it seems to me. Where is your wife, sir? Where be your children?”
Gerald answered with care, “To Auxerre, Your Grace. My Lady prefers it there.”
“I imagine that she does for it seems that she holds no place here,” Arthur kept his gaze to the fire, “Too feminine, it would appear.”
“They are good and loyal men, Your Grace!” Gerald offered protest, “No thing more!”
Arthur turned slowly and showed a raised brow, “Are they now? Look, my Lord Gerald...you will answer your sins of the flesh to God alone. You will answer all other sins to me for I am your liege. I care not what you do in your chambers, a sickness though it may be, but I have great care with what you do in all else. There was a time that I could count upon Anjou as the most loyal of any land within the realm. Now? You cause me great question.”
“I am more than honored to care for the boy...” Gerald began to answer before the King cut him off.
“How may I trust you with all that you seem to lack?” Arthur took a stride towards him, “I pulled a scared little boy from the wreckage that was Vannes. One not so removed from my own son’s age and left bereft of his father who is so weak and craven. I hold no ill will to this young Renan of Brittany. He is a Prince and mayhap someday might be a fine ally. I needs must know that he is treated well and with great care. You do not show me that you are capable of it!”
Gerald tried to stand tall, “Of course I am capable of it.”
“Your mother was,” Arthur still held question, “My cousin was the finest Lady in this realm! You? I know not what to call you. At times I look upon you and I see Emma in your face. At other times, I see no way that you are from her at all! Which would you rather be, my Lord? Some prancing little pony or a great stallion that fights as well as any man?!”
The Duke was quick to his knee but held the King’s eye, “I am your servant in every way, Your Grace! For the love that you held for my mother...for the love that I still hold for her...I shall never let you down like this again. I swear it!”
Anselm had held by the door this entire time but locked eyes with the King before Arthur took another step forward and lifted Gerald to his legs, “I am to Cashel on the morrow, my Lord. I hold all of my trust with you that your words here speak true. For some reason I am now called ‘the Just’ but I do warn you, sir...if some harm should come to this Prince Renan, I shall hold you alone responsible and I will not be forgiving. When your mother died, I stayed to here. I gave her all the due she deserved for I loved her as cousin...as great Lady of the realm...as my friend. I wish to give you that chance. Yet you must earn it. Here, sir, is your test.”
“I will treat Prince Renan as if he is your very own son, Your Grace!” Gerald showed certainty in his eyes, “And I shall pray for your victories that will surely come to you!”
“Just keep him safe, my Lord,” Arthur shifted to leave the solar and gestured for Anselm to follow, “I will know the truth of it when I return.”
Gerald bowed once more and after the King and his Earl closed the door behind them, Anselm showed surprise, “Are you certain that you can trust him?”
“Did you not see the piss run down his leg?” Arthur grinned, “I dare say that he will find a lonely bed tonight.”
* * *
Melun Castle – November 1304
It was a crisp autumn afternoon and they were hunting in the forest between Paris and Melun. Anselm and Etienne seemed to be having a grand time but the King held back. He seemed out of sorts and not at all interested in their sport. It was unlike him and Lord Amedee finally pulled up alongside and handed over a flask, “For a man that has just won another in a long string of victories, you do not appear to find enjoyment. Mayhap this will warm your spirit.”
Arthur peered after his younger cohorts for a moment as they chased after a stag and then accepted the flask, “I suppose that I am tired. As you mentioned last year...”
When the King took a sip, he stopped with wide eyes and nearly spit it out, “What in blazes is this?!”
“A little something I picked up in Navarre,” the Duke grinned, “Quite a head on it, oui? Strong stuff. I like it.”
“You could strip the paint right from our shields with this, monsieur!” Arthur laughed and tried it again.
Amedee laughed when the King winced once more but clapped him on the shoulder when he swallowed, “That should get you flying high soon enough, Your Grace. Enough to enjoy the day at least.”
“Ahh...it is good for you to be home,” Arthur answered as he handed back the flask, “And Tienne as well. You know I didn’t want to send you south but I was forced to if I was to win.”
Amedee shook his head with a smile, “Was no issue for me, sire. I enjoy a good progress and Navarre has its merits. Especially when it finds me on the winning end.”
“Loarre was a great victory,” the King gently spurred his mount to walk slowly and Amedee followed beside, “And we have had them in abundance. You surely heard about Lord Adam.”
“The Duke of Flanders takes yet another step,” Amedee peered ahead, “Do you think he will challenge Brabant now?”
“I know not, but if he wishes it, I will let him,” Arthur replied as he shifted in the saddle.
Lord Amedee gave nod, “At least he fares better than our Lord Payen. I heard that he still finds his efforts wanting in Dauphine.”
“On that score, he may have some good news,” Arthur showed a smile, “This may be your first hearing of this...but my brother by law is back as Emperor.”
Amedee was surprised, “Mon Dieu! This is the first. I would have thought to hear it when we traveled back through Toulouse! How did that happen?”
“I know not...” the King shrugged, “...Lord Lionel is doing his best to find out and that scoundrel Mayor Andrew is being rather tight lipped about it all.”
“You should have sacked that one when you had chance and cause!” the Duke sat taller in the saddle and frowned.
Arthur grinned, “Nay. I rather like having a scoundrel as master of spies. That is his worth, is it not? And besides...this is all good news. I have sent word to my sister Jeanne and have not yet heard back...but as Empress, she can do much to protect our east as we continue our other efforts.”
“Ah yes...le grand campaign,” Amedee grinned, “So where shall I travel to next, my liege? Ormund is won and I be certain that Earl Randolph is pleased. Is there another Lord to which you would give reward, or do you think to pick a little piece of that pie for yourself?”
Arthur pursed his brow and looked ahead, “To be honest, I was waiting for you to return home before I made a decision. I had much to do at any rate. Once Cashel fell to me, I moved north only long enough to receive two letters. One was from Ireland to tell me that Locmine had also fallen. The other was from King Fragan himself begging peace and the return of his son.”
“I hope there was a nice bit of gold included in the letter,” the Duke replied with a smile and leaned forward to scratch at his mare’s neck.
Arthur shook his head, “There was not and truth be told, I was happy to send the boy along. We had found our peace and I do not mind saying, I was not comfortable leaving him to Angers.”
“Now that I did hear about,” Amedee laughed, “Anselm is not shy about singing your praises, sire. I heard that you left young Lord Gerald quacking in his boots. Wet ones at that.”
“Poor Emma...” Arthur answered as they moved to a stream to let their mounts drink, “...to be saddled with a fop such as that. I would wish to reward him...for her sake...but he makes it difficult.”
When the King moved to dismount, Amedee kept to his mare, “All across France...England...Wales. You’ve many Lords to please, monsieur. And many Lords to please you.”
Arthur took the reins of his Duke’s horse as well and led them to the water, “You know well your history of France and ours in England. We could not be in a more peaceful age at home.”
“Nor a more warring one abroad,” Amedee finally stepped down and knelt to wash his face, “Scotland, Ireland, Brittany...Germany. It is a wonder to me how you have so many children given how few months you spend to your home.”
Arthur grinned, “Do you chide me...or applaud me?”
“I do neither, sir,” Amedee stood and moved between the two large beasts as they lapped at the stream, “I only ask again the question...where are we to next and then the follow up...when will you rest?”
The King allowed his Lord to keep the reins and moved to sit upon a nearby rock, “Why does it seem that we have this conversation at least once a year?”
“Of late, it is because I have rarely been around you,” Amedee grinned, “Were we together always, it might come more often.”
Arthur allowed a heavy sigh, “I cannot rest. There is too much to do. I am thirty four. I have reigned for ten years. I’ve had four wonderful children and brought much to this realm, I think. Yet...I am so far from done!”
“What more do you wish, Arthur?” the Duke asked candidly, “The evil beast is long dead in Germany and your sister now rules as Empress. You’ve brought a lasting peace with Scotland and a promise for the future between your son and the girl Maud. Half of Ireland is yours and you may as well be named King of that land as much as any other. What more have you to do?”
The King watched the gentle stream roll smoothly over the small rocks in the middle and kept a pursed brow, “I can never be satisfied. I know that I should be. I was content when young. Emma scolded me on that before she died. Yet I cannot...I will not be content as long as chance awaits. Though I love my youngest son as much as my eldest, it must be Arthur that inherits France. Though my sister holds her position now, we both know how fickle are these German princes. A time will soon come when what seems peaceful is no thing but a cover for what was always there. I must be ready. I must be strong.”
“A reason I never tried for France myself,” Amedee gave nod and moved to tie off their mounts, “It is a strong head that must wear the crown. In ten years, you have proved to me and all others that you hold that head. And I am not going anywhere, monsieur. You may count upon that.”
“Pleased am I to hear it as you know how much I need you,” Arthur answered as he reluctantly took the offered flask from Amedee.
The Duke sat beside him on the rock and grinned as Arthur winced again, “I think you need that for a number of reasons...Your Grace.”
“The hunt is good...” Arthur handed back the drink, “...and the hunt is long.”
“And what exactly are you hunting for?” Amedee asked before taking a large pull for himself, “These young ones know it well. A nice stag. Perhaps a boar. Yet what of you? I know what you fear. Yet what do you want?”
Arthur looked again to the slow stream, “I want...that when I am gone I have made sound this realm...all of them. That my son Arthur will not have fear that the Empire will attack him as they did my father. That my role as King...the role as King for these varied lands...is solid and uncontested in every way.”
“That is a rather tall order, monsieur.”
Arthur turned to his friend with uncertainty, “And I know not how much longer I have to achieve that. I believe that this was my father’s dream and look where it took him? You weren’t there, but that face...his face...I see it every night. He was the strongest man that I knew...likely the strongest that you knew as well. To see that lifeless face...his white beard colored from so many struggles...”
“You do well to follow him,” Amedee answered quickly, “And I mean that in the best way...and the worst.”
“I must do, my Lord!” Arthur picked up a small rock and chucked it into the water, “I have no other choice!”
Amedee sat silent for a moment and then put an arm around the King’s shoulder, “You have...some…choice, monsieur. It may be more than I should say, but...I think of you often as my very own son. I hope...that you think of me as friend and mayhap...some help as...not just counsel...but what your father might wish you to hear. I knew him well and I do know what he wished for you.”
“You are friend...mentor...my everything, Amedee!” Arthur turned to him with sure eyes and pure heart, “I would have never accomplished any of what has been done without you!”
“Then hear this, lad...” the Duke squeezed, “...take your rest. Please! I will follow you to heaven...to hell...and everywhere in between. Yet you must rest. For the now. Take your peace...your triumph. And plan for the next.”
Arthur showed a slight grin, “I don’t think you have called me lad in ten years!”
“I meant what I said...monsieur,” Amedee returned the grin.
“I know you did,” Arthur looked again to the water, “It is a comfort. Yet the thing is...I am reticent. I hesitate to return to Westminster.”
Amedee skewed a brow, “Why ever for? There be your children. Even your wife. Take some peace and quiet and mayhap have another child. One may conquer in many ways.”
“I do wish to see my children,” Arthur remained confused, “Even Ava, hard as that might be to consider. Yet I feel so much more...alive…in the field. Surely you must understand? I do what I can for the young ones, and Ava...I cannot control her much as I may wish it. Is it right for me to say that I am bored there?”
The Duke moved to stand and held to the reins of his mare, “As a soldier, I understand completely. As a father and husband...go home, Arthur. We are done here. Our chance will come again, and soon. For now...I implore you to do two things.”
“Two?” Arthur stood with a curious smile.
“Yes!” the Duke moved to sit his mount and then looked back to the King, “England requires their sovereign so show your face to Westminster. And do try to look happy when you spy Queen Aveline.”
Arthur grinned, “Was that the second because that will be difficult.”
“Nay, sire,” Amedee moved his mare back to the trail, “The second is to find these young whip-smarts and show them how we old dogs hunt!”
“I’m not so old you bloody Frenchman!” Arthur hollered after when Amedee took off with speed. The King wasted little time to follow.
Especially when I thought it was a pretty good scene (sad as it was.) 
