‘Salic Law,’ went on Theophanie. ‘As if the lady Isabelle hasn’t got every right to what her father left her. And what has it to do with this Burgundy? That’s what I should like to know.’
The days passed. The lady Isabelle was clearly anxious. She would go to the topmost turret and there look out for signs of René and his men returning, she hoped victorious from the battle to uphold their rights.
She did not have to wait long. The battle had been over quickly and it was decisive.
She was in the turret watching when she saw several men riding fast and making for the castle. Hurrying down she was in the courtyard before they arrived. One look at them was enough to tell her that her worst fears were realized.
‘My lady,’ gasped the leader of the band. ‘Ill tidings. We were completely overcome at Bulgnéville. We put up a brave fight but none could withstand Burgundy’s troops. They were everywhere and we were outnumbered. Vaudémont would not have succeeded without the help of the great Duke.’
Isabelle cried impatiently: ‘My lord...René...Oh God help us they have taken him. He is dead...’
‘No, no, my lady. He lives. But yes, they have taken him. He was badly wounded...but he lives...in the hands of the Burgundians.’
Isabelle closed her eyes. Theophanie was beside her. ‘There, my lady. The news is not that bad. He lives...that is what matters most. The rest we’ll sort out.’
‘A prisoner...’ murmured Isabelle. ‘Burgundy’s prisoner...’
‘The good Lord won’t let that wicked man keep a good man like Lord René long. I know that. He’ll be back, my lady. You’ll see. Here, Agnès, take my lady’s arm. Let’s get her to her chamber. This has been a great shock for her.’
Isabelle smiled wryly. ‘Oh stop treating me like one of your children, Theophanie.’
Theophanie said, ‘You’re right. You’re not one of my children. You’ll know what to do, my lady. Don’t I always say it’s the women who manage these things best?’
So they went into the castle and the soldiers were housed and fed and later on more came, with more news, news of how René had fought bravely and it was only when most of his force had been destroyed and he himself was badly wounded by an arrow on the left side of his forehead which had half blinded him, that he had allowed himself to be taken.
But accounts of his bravery could bring little solace to his family. He was a prisoner in the hands of the enemy.
Isabelle was not one to sit down and accept disaster. She was not going meekly to hand over to her cousin the estates which she considered were rightly hers.
She knew what she was going to do. She was going to raise an army and she herself would lead it against the Count de Vaudémont. What of the children? She sent a messenger to her mother the Dowager Duchess Margaret, the godmother of little Margaret, and begged her to take charge of her children while she set about releasing her husband from captivity and keeping what her father had left her.
The Dowager Duchess, as strong-minded a lady as her daughter, immediately came to the rescue. She would take over the care of the children while Isabelle set about working for her husband’s release.
Isabelle had been greatly upset by the fact that it was her own cousin who had acted in this way. They had known each other as children and she was surprised, for he had always appeared to have been amiable and reasonable and she had thought would have been a good friend to her.
It suddenly occurred to her that she would see him. Perhaps she could arouse some pity in him, some sense of honour.
Her mother was uncertain whether it was wise for her to go. She was after all placing herself in the hands of the enemy. Let someone go for her, suggested the lady Margaret. But Isabelle thought that only she could shame her cousin and was determined to make the journey herself.
Her mother knew that it would be useless to attempt to dissuade her. In her daughter’s place she herself would have done the same. They were neither of them women to cower behind the might of their husbands. It had been they who had made decisions in their families, for women such as they were invariably gained the ascendancy over their men. So Isabelle set out and in a short time was confronting her cousin.
She was pleased to see that Antoine de Vaudémont was a little ashamed of himself
‘It surprises me,’ she told him, ‘that we should be facing each other as enemies.’
‘A sad affair, I grant you.’
‘And brought about by your greed,’ Isabelle reminded him. ‘You know full well that my father wished his estates to pass to me. It was always understood.’
‘My lord of Burgundy thinks otherwise.’
‘It is not the affair of the Duke of Burgundy.’
‘He believes that the affairs of Lorraine are his.’
‘I am surprised, Antoine, that you allow yourself to be his creature. He is a traitor to France.’
‘Have care what you say, cousin. If those words were to be repeated...’
‘Oh, save your fear of that man for yourself I will tell him what I think of him if I ever have the misfortune to come face to face with him. But I have come to talk of my husband René.’
‘Alas, he suffered bitter defeat. He has recovered from his wounds though. You need have no anxiety on that score.’
‘Then we will talk of my other anxieties. I want him released.’
‘That is out of the question.’
‘Why? Have you forgotten, Antoine, that we are cousins? Our fathers were brothers. There must not be this strife between us. Release René. Forget this greedy claim of yours.’
‘My dear cousin, if I wished to release René I could not. He is not my prisoner. He is in the hands of the Duke of Burgundy.’
‘Why so! Why did you hand him over to that man?’
‘René was captured by Maréchal de Toulongeon, the commander of the forces Burgundy sent to Bulgnéville.’
Isabelle felt limp with dismay.
‘Then what can I do?’
Antoine shrugged his shoulders. ‘Burgundy will make terms, I doubt not.’
‘And those terms will doubtless be that I give up my estates. Where is René?’
‘He is at Dijon. I hear he is a prisoner in the castle there.’
Isabelle covered her face with her hands and briefly gave way to her emotion. Then she faced Antoine steadily. ‘It surprises me that you can behave in this way. I am sure my father will curse you from Heaven. His great concern was for my welfare and that of my family. Think what you have brought on us, Antoine.’
Antoine said sullenly, ‘The Salic Law prevails in France.’
‘A curse on the Salic Law! My father’s estates should go where he wished them to and that was to his daughter. Antoine, your conscience must be sorely troubling you.’
She had hit the right note. His conscience was troubling him.
‘Isabelle,’ he said, ‘please understand that there is nothing I can do. This is in the hands of the Duke of Burgundy. But perhaps alter all there is one thing...’
‘Yes?’ she asked eagerly.
‘I could call a truce...say for six months.’
Six months’ respite! she thought. That was something.
She would accept that for she could see she could get nothing more from her cousin.
Isabelle returned to her family. Six months. It was a very short time and what could she hope to achieve?
But she was not the woman to sit down and brood. There must be some action she could take and when she had decided what was the best thing to do she would do it.
Then the idea came to her. René had shown friendship to King Charles. He had gone to Orléans at the time of the siege and had taken with him a troop of men to fight for the town—a small one it was true but it had been all that he could muster and Charles had known that and been grateful. He had assisted at the coronation. He had always been loyal to the King and now that the country was emerging a little from the English yoke perhaps Charles would do something for René and his family.