Queen Defiant by O'Brien Anne

Author:O'Brien, Anne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PENGUIN group
Published: 2011-05-12T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

“Welcome, lady. Everything has been made ready for you. Come and regain your strength. Rest, now. Be at ease.”

His voice was as rich and smooth as the oil from the olive trees that had lined our route, as succulently sweet and melting to a frozen heart as a cup of hippocras on a winter’s eve. Raymond helped me to alight from the cushioned traveling litter he had provided for me, into the sun-filled courtyard of his palace. He smiled at me and I smiled at him as bright memory rushed back.

Raymond of Poitiers, my father’s young brother, who, landless and ambitious, had taken himself to England as a young lad, where he was reared and trained for knighthood until King Fulk of Jerusalem invited him to travel to Outremer and become ruler of Antioch. Raymond’s visit to us in Aquitaine en route for that honor, when I was barely twelve years old, had left a lasting impression. Only nine years older than I, yet already a man to my young girl, he was tall, immensely strong, and ridiculously good to look at. And he could sing.... I recalled the velvet-warm vibrancy of his voice as he sang the troubadour’s verses of love and devotion of a man for a woman. Sometimes he was audacious enough to sing them to me. I had watched him as he honed his knightly talents in the tiltyard, battling with sword and mace. On horseback he was a dream of long-limbed grace, of power, of polished skill. Raymond laughed and danced and played foolish games. For those few short weeks, he entranced me, before disappearing as fast as he had arrived, all energy and vital life, like a magic creature from a troubadour’s tale.

Oh, yes! I recalled Raymond of Poitiers. I had not forgotten him, this epitome of gilded knighthood. And now here he was, in the flesh, welcoming me into his home.

“This is wonderful!” It was all I could think to say as I looked around, astonished at the wealth, at the sheer luxury. All the fears, and that terrible sense of isolation that had dogged me for days, now calmed to leave me enfolded in the softest of pleasure.

Raymond smiled and took my hand to lead me up the flight of shallow steps. “I think it will remind you of home. Of Aquitaine.”

“Oh, it does. It does.” I did not wait to see if Louis followed me. In that moment I did not care if I never set eyes on him again.

“Let me introduce you.” A young woman was waiting at the top of the steps, her hands lifted to take mine. “My wife, Constance.”

I knew of her, daughter and heiress of the late King Bohemond of Antioch. We kissed formally, as required.

“My husband’s family is welcome here,” she said.

Clad in flowing Eastern robes, a small, fair young woman with soft blue eyes, a little younger than I, she smiled shyly before leaving us.

“My wife keeps to the ways of the seraglio,” Raymond explained.

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