‘I do not think you can be speaking seriously.’
‘I am deadly serious. I have had enough of this, Louis. I want my freedom.’
‘You would give up the crown of France?’
‘It does not mean so much to me, and you, Louis, will have to give up Aquitaine.’
‘I would not have believed this possible.’
‘No, you would not. You are only half alive. Your heart is in the Church. Go back to the Church and give me my freedom.’
He was silent. He sat on a stool and stared blankly ahead of him.
‘Well?’ said Eleonore impatiently.
‘This is a matter of State,’ replied Louis. ‘I must talk of it with my ministers.’
‘Talk with whom you will, but give me my freedom. I repeat, Louis, I have had enough. It is time you and I parted.’
She lay down and closed her eyes.
Louis continued to sit staring into space.
The next day Louis summoned his counsellors and confronted them with the Queen’s proposal.
It was impossible, he was told by some. There could not possibly be a divorce.
Others thought that the Queen’s behaviour was not that expected of a Queen. It had never been. The Queen came from the South and all knew that morals in the South were less strict than those in the North. The Queen’s grandfather had been a notorious roue, and the Queen continued his practice of keeping a court of songsters and some of the songs they sang were not in the best taste.
Aquitaine was to be considered. There would be trouble there. If the King could retain the Queen’s territory then divorce might be an admirable solution. The King could then marry a docile princess, get a son and there would be no more trouble in the royal domestic circle.
Louis was distraught. She despised him but he loved her. Strange that he who had never been interested in women should have felt so strongly about one, and she his wife. When he had first seen her, young, vital, beautiful and clever, her quick mind putting his to shame, he had adored her. She had reconciled him to marriage and kingship. But he knew that lately she had despised him. She had refused to make love with him. Not that he wished to indulge in this occupation with any great frequency. But there was the need to get an heir for so far they only had little Marie. Yet she had repulsed him, and that was strange, for Eleonore in the past had revelled in the act and had often lured him to perform it more often than he would have thought of doing.
She really did despise him. There was no doubt of it and he was uncertain how to act.
Thierry Galeran, the eunuch, asked for a private interview with him, and when Louis granted it Galeran said he had come to talk of a delicate matter, and before he began, he craved the King’s indulgence if he should say anything to offend him.
Louis, who was the most tolerant of men, was surprised and asked Galeran to say what he had to without fear of giving offence.
‘It concerns the Queen, Sire.’
Louis looked distressed and Galeran hurried on. ‘It is with great grief that I must tell you this, but the Queen has not been faithful to you.’
Louis shook his head but in his heart he had known.
‘You must not make such accusations, Galeran, unless you have proof of what you say.’
‘I have proof, Sire. The Queen has behaved criminally with two men. Her uncle Raymond and the Prince Saladin.’
‘That is impossible. The Queen’s own uncle and an infidel!’
‘It has happened,’ said Galeran. ‘I can bring witnesses to support my story.’
Louis was stunned. That the Queen should have been unfaithful perhaps did not surprise him so much, but that she should have chosen to play him false with two such people was unthinkable. Her uncle and a Saracen! Had she no feeling for the proprieties of life! Her own uncle. That was incest. A Saracen - a man not of her own creed and colour!
He knew that Galeran would not have made the accusation if he could not support it. He knew too that his father had been right when he had said that Galeran was a man whom he could trust to serve him. It was true that Eleonore hated Galeran. She had made caustic comments about him. She despised eunuchs, and being headstrong and impulsive had made no effort to hide her contempt. Galeran would have no warm feelings towards her, yet there must be some truth in his accusations.
‘It would seem, Sire, that there is only one course open to you. To rid yourself of such a Queen.’
‘You heard the findings of the Council.’
‘If some means could be found to keep her lands under the Crown of France …’
The King shook his head. ‘Imagine the wars, Galeran. The people of Aquitaine would take up arms against us. They are loyal to Eleonore. They would accept no other ruler.’
Galeran was thoughtful.
‘You will not continue to stay here and allow the Queen to deceive you. It would put you into a position which must be unacceptable to any man and doubly so to the King of France.’
‘You are right, Galeran. We must leave here without delay. But the Queen will not agree to go.’
Galeran said: ‘The Queen must be made to go.’
‘Short of carrying her by force I see no way of getting her to leave.’
‘Then, Sire, we must needs carry her by force, for you will see and so will your counsellors, that the present state of affairs is one not to be tolerated by the King of France.’
Louis bowed his head. He was deeply wounded and bitterly humiliated. He kept thinking of the first time he had seen her and been so enchanted by her beauty and intelligence.
What had gone wrong that they should come to this?
She was going to meet her lover. How courteous Raymond was! How gallantly he stood aside for Saladin! This was how life should be lived. She had always known it. Love was supreme, that of which they sang in their ballads was truth. Nothing else was of any importance. She was going to rid herself of Louis. She was going to marry Saladin. He would become a Christian and their marriage would be the first step towards bringing Christianity to Islam.
What a joyful manner in which to bring about that desired conclusion! She would be almost a saint for what she had done for Christendom - and at the same time bringing great joy to herself!
The summer house in the garden was their meeting place. It had proved so good for her and Raymond, and Raymond now stepped aside and left it to her and Saladin.
As she passed the bushes she heard the snap of a twig. She looked over her shoulder and as she did so was seized in a pair of strong arms.
She expected to see her lover’s face, and smiling she turned. She was looking into the hated eyes of Thierry Galeran.
‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded.
‘I have come to tell you that the King is about to leave Antioch and wishes you to go to him without delay.’
She was furious. How dared this man lay hands on her! She was about to demand her release when two soldiers appeared beside him.
‘This is treason,’ she said. ‘I shall have you punished … severely. You shall be …’
‘My lady,’ said Galeran, ‘we obey the orders of the King.’
‘The orders of the King! What of them! I tell you …’
‘We are the King’s men,’ said Galeran. ‘I beg you come quietly or we shall be obliged to use force.’
‘How dare you …’
But she was seized by the shoulders. The indignity was more than she could bear. Where was Saladin? Where was Raymond?
Filled with rage by her own powerlessness, she had no alternative but to allow herself to be hustled out of the gardens.
More soldiers appeared. She was wrapped in a concealing cloak and forced to go with them through the city and out of its walls.