The troubadour's song (34 page)

"You would do that for me, my lord? Go to a foreign land where as you said earlier we have no lands, no overlords who know our abilities and would respect our ranks?"

He looked off into the distance as if he could see through the shuttered windows to faraway countries. "They might believe our reasons for being there and accord us respect for our ranks. You are a celebrated poet. But beyond our skills, we would have nothing. It would be a risk."

He dropped his eyes to study her again. "But if that is what you wish to do, my lady, I will take you where you want to go."

She lifted a hand to touch his face. Her eyes searched his. "To put our fate in the hands of God and seek our fortune elsewhere. To put this war behind us then?"

He jutted his chin forward as if not capable of speaking.

Tears moistened the corners of her eyes and once again she had difficulty forming her words. "To be with you every day and every night that you were not doing your forty days of feudal service to a new lord? It would be heaven."

Her heart rippled at his love and at the dream he placed before her. But she lowered her eyes, closing them as she leaned against his shoulder again.

"I thank you, my lord, for this dream. But of course it will remain a dream. We cannot do it, can we? For every day we might be filled with our love and ecstasy, but every day we would think of those we abandoned. My lands would suffer if I were not there to defend them. My people would die. I could not live with that."

After a long moment holding her, he spoke again. "No, I did not think you could."

"And you, my lord? Would you not be unhappy knowing you had abandoned family, king, and cause?" She did not mean it to sound bitter, but the truth of how well she knew him could not help but color her words.

He gave a small grunt. "I would try to please you, my lady.

And I would keep my word. But you would see the guilt I suffered. And that would erode our happiness, would it not?"

"It would." With a great sigh, she broke away. "Then we will not travel with merchants to foreign lands. What then?"

"Those same merchants will be going to the lands where we must go instead," he said slowly. "It will not be difficult to find escorts for you as far as your home if that is where you must

go."

Her throat clenched with emotion. "And if I must go to Avignon instead?"

"To find out if your overlord Raymond of Toulouse is there?"

She did not miss the jealousy in his voice. "Only because it is my duty to let him know that I am well."

"And what will you tell him?"

"I will say that when we became separated during the battle, that I found a horse, and the horse bolted. That French soldiers gave chase but that I was able to escape. However, I was thrown in the woods and twisted an ankle. Some cottagers took me in until I could walk again. Then I made my way back."

"It is plausible. But it will not be easy to get you back into a city under siege. I think we have exercised every possible ploy in that attempt. Their gates will be firmly closed this time. They will not open them again for fear of yet another trick."

She looked distraught. "Raymond will think me dead."

"If he is still there."

She lifted her chin. "Then I will go to Toulouse. I will need to tell Raymond the elder of how things fare. That is, if God wills that the old count still lives."

The lines around Gaucelm's mouth deepened. "If you must go to Toulouse, then we will find you escort."

Of course she understood that he could not go. For in enemy territory, he would be taken captive. Clearly he would return to his own camp at the siege of Avignon.

"And you, my lord, what will you tell your king?"

"That I was taken captive and held for ransom, but that I over-

came my captors in a moment when their guard was down and made my way back to the camp."

"Equally plausible. Will you be believed?"

"I will make it so. Now come, we must at least appear to be purchasing goods for our home."

Her heart contracted at the casual way he uttered words about their imaginary home. But she straightened her shoulders in order to face the fair without showing the emotions she really felt.

Playing her part as housewife, she went from booth to booth and examined a vast array of kettles, spoons, pincers, spits, skewers, and long-handled forks. Pretending she was unable to decide, she moved along to prod and feel linsey-woolsey covers, hemmed to cover children's beds, even wandering to a furniture maker who displayed well-crafted chests, chairs, and writing desks.

She made as if to go away and think about the purchases and found that Gaucelm was engaged in a similar charade near a pen where stock was kept. She stood in the background and watched Gaucelm examine cattle hooves as if he did it every day. And his apparent knowledge of the beasts made her wonder even more about his life in France and his own family's demesne. She felt a sudden longing to know his family. How tragic that she never should. He had sisters. To whom were they married? And what was the older brother like?

He caught her watching him, and she saw the glint in his eye as he told the man that he would have to confer with his wife about their means.

"There she is now," he said. "I must find out if she's spent all the household money. But your prices are fair. I will consider a new milk cow before we leave the fair."

He came to lead her away from the stock pen. The mood of the day made her feel confident enough to tease him.

"What will you do with a milk cow when you return to your King Louis?" she asked.

"I will take the cow," he said. "We have a large army to feed, and one more milk cow will be helpful to the steward who must feed us. And what, pray tell, did you buy?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. I can hardly travel with pots and pans back to Toulouse. It would belie my story about cottagers taking me in after I was chased by soldiers and thrown by a horse. Unless I say that I happened on a fair on the way to Toulouse."

He guided her through the crowds, and she reveled in the simple intimacy of being with her imaginary husband sampling the pleasures of the fair.

"Come," he said. "It is time we returned to the widow's house and took our dinner."

When they entered the tidy, well-organized house, they took their places at a table that included other boarders. She had a moment of panic that she and Gaucelm would be tripped up in their tale. But Gaucelm was adept at mealtime conversation, and she had to do little but smile and nod as he made up a story about their holding as if he had given it great thought.

They retired to their room for a rest after the meal. After he had shut the door on the rest of the world, Allesandra turned and said, "You once told me you did not have the gift of poetry or storytelling, my lord. I think it can be said that you created a story very well, and for an audience, no less."

His face showed amusement and he came to her, letting his hands run up her arms to her shoulders. "Perhaps it is the inspiration of having my . . . woman next to me."

She had no time to respond, for he lowered his head for a kiss. But before they became too involved in passion, he released her mouth and set her away from him.

"However, I have not merely been telling a fantasy. I have learned what we need to know. There is a party of travelers making their way westward as far as Montpellier. I am going to arrange for us to travel with them. That will get you to the other side of the Rhone. Perhaps from there you can send for friends to escort you home."

She let her hand drift to his sleeve. "I appreciate what you are doing, my lord. You know that if you wished it, you could take me hostage and collect ransom for me."

He turned back and gripped her shoulders, looking into her face intently. "Do you wish me to do so? Just say the word and I will take you back to France with me. You would be my hostage, but I would accept no ransom to allow someone to take you from me.

The thought of him taking her back with him held strong appeal, so much so that she had to force herself to look away. She didn't trust herself to words, and he gently released her, accepting her answer.

"I dare only go as far as Montpellier," he said. "You should be safe there. The town has already bowed to the king. From there I will have to make my way northward."

She gave a little nod, understanding the arrangement. All that would be a few days hence. She would not think about it yet.

They returned to the fair and wandered through the crowds. They stopped at the church steps to watch tumblers, musicians, jugglers. As the evening turned to dusk, they wandered out toward the edges of the festivities, saying little, knowing that their time together was dear. Both of them had questions, both had no answers. They stopped in a lane behind a stockade fence, a willow tree dipping its branches to touch their cheeks.

Gaucelm pulled her to him and held her gently, his lips in her hair. She drank in his embrace, but they staved off passion until they were again alone where he could show her the ecstasy she could only know with him. They exchanged soft words, tender endearments, but made no promises.

"Come," he said at last. "We must find supper at a tavern. We will need nourishment to face the morrow."

The taverns were full of revelers, but they squeezed onto a bench in a corner of one busy place. Gaucelm caught the eye of the serving girl who pushed aside the grasping, drunken men who taunted and reached for her as she came to see what Alle-sandra and Gaucelm would have. The girl was all eyes for Gaucelm's good looks, but with a glance at Allesandra's regal bearing, gave a toss of the head as if to say she knew that the

handsome gentleman with the mysterious dark eyes was off lim-its.

They ordered food and ale, but Allesandra found that she wasn't hungry. Gaucelm glanced idly around the room. He spoke in a low voice to Allesandra.

"Be careful what you say. I feel that we are being watched. Perhaps our common clothing does nothing to hide who we really are. Say nothing that would lead anyone to become too curious. Even though I shall send you with protection, I don't want your party to be set upon by robbers who think you have any valuables."

She heeded his warning and with a glimmer in her eye began a discussion with her would-be husband about the pots and pans she had anguished over at the booth earlier today. He in turn carried on about the cow he wanted to purchase, and before long they were carrying on an argument about which they needed more, kitchen utensils or a cow.

When Allesandra glanced out of the corner of her eye, she saw the men Gaucelm had alluded to. Rough types enjoying their ale, but who might have an ear cocked toward any conversations that would be worth following. She was well aware that such fairs attracted low-class brigands, even though the fair officials tried to keep them out.

But when she and Gaucelm finished their meal and left, she felt confident that they'd done nothing to betray their real purpose at the fair.

Night had fallen, but the streets were lit with lanterns and torches. The booths and halls were locked for the night, but the revelers continued their games and pastimes, the shadows and flickering light giving their faces a garish quality as if they all wore masks.

Gaucelm touched the hilt of his dagger fastened to the belt under his surcoat and kept one arm about Allesandra's shoulders, glancing into alleys to make sure they would not be accosted before they reached their room.

Once inside the widow's house, they latched the door behind

them and retired. Allesandra struck flint to light a lantern, giving a soft pool of light at the edge of the bed. Gaucelm began to toss his clothes aside in a casual manner, as if he did it every night in front of his wife. Allesandra felt her heart give a little lurch as she watched him, and then she did the same.

When she was down to her shift, he came to her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Let me do it," he said softly. His eyes grazed her face, making her heart hammer, and the desire sprang suddenly as he lifted the shift over her head and she stood before him nude. He bent to lift the bedcovers and she slid in, resting her back against the pillows. Then he followed.

He wasted no time with words, but pressed himself against her, and then they entangled themselves in fiery passion, more desperate for the fact that they had only a few days left together.

She lay under his strong body, helpless with ecstasy as he worked his magic on her. She squeezed him in a hard embrace, crying out at the pinnacle of his love. His mouth came down to muffle her cries. And then she hazily realized that they mustn't let the household hear too much of their passion, or the other boarders would wonder at the heat of love between two who had said they'd been wed for a decade.

When their passion at last calmed to a deep feeling of satisfaction, Gaucelm extinguished the lantern and nestled in quietly next to her. They listened to the sounds of the town outdoors, the whack of a branch that beat on the shutters of their window when the wind struck. Sometime later, she fell asleep.

The merchant's train for Montpellier formed early in the morning, and Allesandra was introduced to the merchant's wife, one Marie Darbac, with whom she would ride in the wagon. They were pleased to have the couple join them. For Gaucelm's size and strength and his apparent ability with arms would stand them in good stead should any highway brigands be tempted.

There were other armed men in the party, and Allesandra's

only fear was that she and Gaucelm would not be able to maintain their masquerade. Even though the merchant came from a town that had bowed to the king of France, Montpellier had fought on the southern side for many years before that. It would be impossible to tell where the merchant's sympathies lay.

They traveled only on the main roads, stopping at inns and at farm holdings along the way. Though there was an occasional rustle in the trees they passed, suggesting that watchers followed their progress, no one attacked them. With relief, many days later, they passed through the city gates of the town. Already a French garrison was much in evidence. But Gaucelm did not make himself known until he and Allesandra were installed in an inn from which, on the next day, he would have to take his leave.