The troubadour's song (33 page)

But Allesandra did not yet know what Gaucelm planned to do. She was not ready to turn her mind to her responsibilities. That time would come. She would lose him again. But for a moment, perhaps a day, he was hers and she refused to let anything mar that happiness.

When they finished their meal and washed it down with ale, they took the horse and walked along a lane that led among trees.

"This is not the way to Aix," she said when they had reached the dappled shade. "Unless you know this country better than I think."

"I do not know the country at all. I merely wished to walk a little."

They walked in silence for a distance, and Allesandra breathed in the fragrances of forest and field nearby. The people this far to the east had been free of the war. Their overlords paid homage to the German emperor. But then she did not know if the French king planned to march this way as well. And she did not care to ask.

Still, there was much that needed to be said between herself and Gaucelm. Now that they'd shared such ecstasy, she felt the tug of longing that would come when he left again.

"I wondered if you hated me," she said at last, stopping by a thick plane tree and running her hand along its flaky bark.

He stopped to consider her but said nothing. Then he looped the horse's reins around a branch and walked a little away, looking off into the distance.

He did not answer, but she realized that she preferred his silence to a lie. He turned back and came to her, leaning his hand against the tree and looking down at her. The troubled look on his face reflected many of her own feelings. Her body still tingled when he was near, and she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the tree.

"Would that we were simple peasants," she mused. "I feel the weight of my wealth."

He gave a despairing laugh, "Peasants free from duty, tied only to the soil." She opened her eyes again to watch him twist a twig from the branch above them.

"But even the peasants suffer in these times," she said bitterly. She turned her face away from him, the sadness creeping back to mar the joy she had found in his arms.

"You are a heroine among your people," he said.

"I cannot deny the part I play in this war."

"Nor I mine."

"So," she said, lowering her chin to stare at the ground. "There is no hope and no escape for us. You will return to your army."

"I cannot do otherwise. And you?"

"I must help Toulouse. It is our last chance." Then she could bear to look at him no longer. "Gaucelm," she said with sudden feeling and walked away, grasping one of the low branches. "Why could you not have been born in the South?"

"Or you in the North? Ah, but do you really think that if you were a mason's wife as you once pretended to be, that you would find solace in the religion that you seem to hate?"

She flushed. "We tread on dangerous ground, my lord. Why must we speak of religion now?"

"You are right. Let us speak of other things." He changed his

tone. "Shall I tell you how I thought about you during the winters in Paris?"

"Did you?" She turned and smiled.

"I wondered if you were angry when you found a collection of your poetry stolen."

"I did not know you had stolen it. But I did see it was missing. I thought only that I had misplaced it or that one of the troubadours took it."

"Ah, yes, your friends, the troubadours."

"What of them?"

"Gallant knights all, ready to serve a damsel in distress. I'm surprised you did not marry one of them."

"How could I?" She was surprised that he could think she could marry anyone else after the passion they had shared.

Still, his tone held a slightly masked resentment. "I see that the younger Raymond travels with you. Does he always escort you on journeys?"

She felt the first touches of anger. "If you mean, is he my lover, no, he is not. Neither are we betrothed."

"I see."

"You see, but you think my affections are fickle."

"I did not say I understand women."

She exhaled a breath, hating the anger that still came between them. It quickly brought tears to sting her eyes. Happiness was not possible. She'd been a fool to imagine it was.

She gave a bitter laugh. "Then our rendezvous is over. We must make our way back to our battles."

"Then you will continue to fight?" he asked.

"Of course. What do you think I am? You can seduce me, my lord. But I am not such a weakling that I will turn traitor and hand you my household. We do not want the French in our lands. I do not want the French in my lands. That much will never change, no matter what happens between us."

He gazed at the passion in her face and believed her. Regret pervaded his heart.

"Perhaps I am the fool. I am still able to imagine the crusade

at an end, Louis satisfied with new lands, the South subjugated and you, my lady, in my arms. You hold out foolishly."

She looked away from him. "We do not think so. Toulouse will never bend."

"You cannot win. Already much of the South has given up the fight."

"Toulouse will not give up."

"What do you think you can achieve against the king of France?"

"We will keep our independence."

"I despair of your steadfast loyalty to a way of life that is doomed, my dear. Equally exasperated by your loyalty to friends who seem to mean more to you than one who loves you."

She parted her lips in surprise. "How can you say that? You understand nothing if you do not know, do not see how I feel."

"You may not be a heretic yourself but you will go to great lengths to protect them."

"What would you have me do, turn over their names so those hateful, greedy churchmen can seize their lands?"

"So you have names to turn over, do you?"

"If I did, I would not give them up."

Gaucelm gave up on the argument and shifted to a direct appeal. "Come back to France with me."

"And live in lands where I would be a stranger? Would that I could." She shook her head. "I do love you, Gaucelm. Surely you could tell that much. But I would not be able to forget. Why don't you stay and help us in the South? We need good knights like yourself."

Now it was Gaucelm who had to look away. "My family and our home is in He de France. That, too, is inbred. I could not see my name held up as traitor to future generations of the Deluc family. It is a very old and respected name."

Her shoulders slumped. The anger and resentment had not left her, but she knew that there was no end to this siege. Both of them would hold out. He waited a moment until their ire abated. Then he came to her and lifted her chin with his finger.

"I did not bring you away to wage yet another war. We may not have a future, but we have this day. Let us not waste it."

"How so?" she said warily.

"We will go to the fair in Aix. We will pretend to be the simple householders that we are not."

"And then?"

"We will drink at a tavern. Make love at an inn."

"And the next morn?"

"I will ask you whether we should travel to Marseilles and take ship for England."

He loved her that much, was all she could think. She was too choked by emotion to speak. "For England? To a land where we are both strangers? What possible fortunes would we have there?"

"You see? You are as practical as I am, madam. We would have little fortunes. I would serve some lord who had need of my skills as knight. But we would have no land. You would be forced to be a lady-in-waiting to a lady who would decide every minute of your time. Or we could sail to foreign lands."

She shook her head in sadness. If she believed in great adventure, she might be tempted. It would be a pleasant dream to contemplate these possibilities as they spent the day at the fair. But Gaucelm's mind seemed to be on other things again.

He pressed his body against hers for a kiss. Their anger had departed, and in its place the desire and love sprang between them once more. Perhaps it was the notion that they had only one day together that made her reach for him once more. And he began to caress her as if he, too, knew that he must fill himself with her before he had to turn his back again.

"I want you again, my lady," he said in a voice fraught with need.

"And I you."

Their movements became more sensual. He slid his hand under her tunic. Unable to bear their need, he led her deeper into the woods where thick branches and growth covered their lair. He did not even bother to make a bed for them, but leaned her

back against a thick oak. He lifted her tunic and deftly played her body as an instrument, hearing it tremble at his touch. Then he loosened his linen until his flesh touched hers. He entered her then and there, supporting her in his strong grasp.

Allesandra wound her legs around him and arched, her breasts aching, her head against the rough bark as he took her wantonly, as she wanted to be taken. Her whole being relished his powerful lovemaking, and his moans of possession only made her want to yield more. His mastery was erotic, bringing them both to a savage climax that merged with their wild surroundings.

"My lord," she gasped when it was over, and her body sated. "I wish it could be so every day."

"By God, we must find a way," he muttered before he opened his lips to plunge his tongue against hers as he still caressed her in the last vestiges of passion.

Twenty

Allesandra felt as if she'd entered an imaginary world as they rode toward the city gates of Aix, following the crowds to the fair. When the lane they followed came to the main highway, they saw that sergeants guarded the road to the fair, protecting traveling merchants and those who were carting goods home.

She rode pillion behind Gaucelm, and he drew up a little distance away to get out of the way of a large hay wagon. But it gave him a chance to observe those in authority.

"We cannot know if they are looking for a French knight and a lady from Toulouse," he said so that only Allesandra could hear.

"We are simple householders going to shop at the fair, are we not?" she replied. For they had planned what to say if questioned.

Indeed the packs they had fashioned made it look as if they

had traveled some distance to attend and had a few goods to trade in exchange for fabrics, spices, and kitchen utensils they would wish to take home.

"We will meld with the crowd. The peddler's clothes will not give us away," he said.

"Provided your stature and air of command does not seem odd in a simple householder," she spoke warmly into his ear.

He slouched his shoulders and leaned forward, grasping the pommel of the saddle to make it appear he was a less expert rider than he was. The fine battle charger they rode was another problem. But if questioned, they intended to claim that the horse had wandered onto their holding, and that they'd brought it to the fair to seek its owner in order to claim a reward.

But the sergeants were too busy ordering a farmer to keep his herd of pigs to the side of the road out of the way of the carts and barely noticed the genteel householder and his lady as they passed by.

At the city gates they passed by inspectors checking the quality of the goods being brought in and tax collectors examining documents of those going out to make sure taxes had been collected.

Once inside the town, they followed the hubbub through streets filled with jugglers, acrobats, chained bears, and monkeys performing on street corners. Jongleurs sang and strummed on church steps. Even at this hour the taverns they passed thronged with patrons coming and going. At last they came to the big square where stalls and booths were set up between the larger halls for the cloth merchants.

They disembarked at a stable and took their belongings.

"Tell me," Gaucelm asked of the stableboy, a youth of sixteen or so. "Are the inns full? Or is there a place where my lady and I can put up?"

"The inns were full a week ago," he answered. Then he looked them over as if to assess how much they could pay for a place to stay. "You might try the widow behind St. Peter's Church in Cooper's Alley. She has clean rooms."

They thanked the boy and asked directions, then pushed

through the crowds to a small house squeezed between church and a cooper's workshop. There they found the widow. After putting their request to the plump, dimpled woman in white wimple and veil and berry-colored gown, they were invited in.

"The room was used by a spice merchant," she told them. "But he's gone now. How long do you plan to stay?"

"Not long," Gaucelm answered, his eyes scanning the modest house. "Two days at most. Our flocks need tending, and our herder is not well."

They agreed on a price that included their dinner and then the housewife showed them to the upstairs room and left them to unpack.

"I think we'll be safe enough here," he said, stuffing their packs under the bed.

Allesandra smiled at the quaintness of the place and tingled with pleasure at the sight of the clean, comfortable bed. Gaucelm seemed to follow her thoughts.

"I thought a woman of your rank deserved better than a hay byre or a tree tonight."

Her heart turned over as he came to put his arm around her shoulders and pull her next to him. She murmured against his cheek. "I appreciate your consideration for my comfort. But I shall never forget the hay byre, or the tree."

He looked at her with love and already with the regret of parting which they both knew was inevitable. Then he kissed her gently and warmly as if wanting to make the most of their time together here.

But she was too wise to think that Gaucelm had brought her here merely for a romantic escapade. "And after tonight? What do you plan to do then?"

He looked as if he regretted having to say what was in his mind. But then his face drew into serious lines.

"There are many travelers at this fair going east and west, north and south. Even to foreign lands. Should we wish to ally ourselves with some of them it would be possible to make our way to distant lands and never see France again."

She could say nothing for a long moment. She grasped his arms and leaned her head against his shoulder. Finally, she lifted her head and looked up at him again.