The Battle of the Queens by Jean Plaidy

Author:Jean Plaidy [Plaidy, Jean]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2011-03-20T05:00:00+00:00

The company listened to the tales and fables – mostly concerning the hopeless lover’s plaint for his mistress; and the applause was led by Isabella, whose beautiful eyes sparkled as she listened.

I am a minstrel of the viol

I know the musette and the flute

And the harp and the chifonie

The gigue and the armonie

And the salteire and the rote

I know well how to sing a tune.

I know many fine table tricks

And from prestidigitations and magic

Well know how to make an enchantment.

Isabella clapped her hands and Hugh looked at her indulgently.

‘Good minstrel,’ she cried, ‘tell me how you make an enchantment.’

‘With my song, my lady,’ was the answer. ‘But not as sure as you can make them with your beauteous eyes.’

Then he made a song, on the spur of the moment he implied, and it could well have been one which he had in readiness for ladies whom he knew would enjoy it – which told of the fatal beauty of a lady which exceeded that of all others in the world.

Blanche looked on a little cynically and thought that here was one minstrel who would not go unrewarded.

Then Isabella declared that there had been enough of the minstrels and they should be taken to the kitchens and there given food for they had done their work well; and they would play the game of questions and commands and she would claim the privilege, as lady of the castle, of asking the first question.

She walked into the centre of the hall and called to one of her women to tie a silken kerchief about her eyes. Then she stood there with her arms outstretched looking so beautiful that none of the men – Blanche noticed – could take his eyes from her. Even Louis watched her with indulgence.

She put a white bejewelled hand to her lips as though she were thinking, then she said: ‘Alas ladies, our lords must often leave us and when they leave us are they faithful to us? We know their natures, ladies. Should we be blamed if we, sorely tempted and alone, fall into temptation such as they find irresistible?’

There was a hushed silence in the hall as Isabella began to move forward, her arms outstretched, feeling her way towards the tables. Ladies held their breath as she passed them and Blanche knew at once that she would be the one on whom Isabella would lay her hands and who, according to the rules of the game, must answer.

It was not a game. It meant something. Whatever peace should be made between their husbands, it was war between Isabella and Blanche.

Nearer to Blanche came Isabella and the outstretched white hands came to rest on the shoulders of the Queen of France.

This is the one who will answer me,’ said Isabella. ‘If she be a lady I trust she is wise for we hang on her words.’

Of course she could see, Blanche knew. She would have arranged that with her woman. She knew on whom she had laid her hands.

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