Crown in Candlelight Read Free Page B

find him food, and a clean bedgown. But he’s himself again.’
    ‘So now … Gaspard stood up, drew Odette to her feet. ‘He will confront her, demand back the jewels, money, honours she’s drained off … thank God. I’ll go to him. I’ve stayed obedient, without a sou …’
    ‘Wait.’ She disengaged her hands. ‘It’s not over yet. He’s very weak, capable of little, vengeance or anything else. But they are warned and afraid, and about to take action.’
    She had stood for an hour at the lowest curve of the stairs leading to the Hall. She had heard Isabeau cursing everyone, the ragged pages, her brother of Bavaria and Louis of Orléans, in a drunken fury like the first autumn wind battering the walls and spinning the bodies on Montfaucon gibbet. The three children, sick with sleep, had been brought from their beds. Louis had kicked his uncle of Orléans on the shins, earning himself a smack across the cheek.
    ‘They plan to abduct the children, and take the treasure from the Louvre Palace. Listen well. Ride to the Duke of Burgundy’s emissary. He lies at the Palais.’
    ‘Jean sans Peur’s man?’
    ‘Yes. Tell him they plan to take the children, if not tonight, tomorrow for sure.’
    ‘Where?’ he asked. ‘To Tours?’ For Isabeau had a court of her own there, a Babylon of pleasure and plots.
    ‘To Milan.’
    ‘Milan!’
    ‘Ask no more.’ She was impatient. ‘Ride now. I’ve promised the earth to the gateward, he’ll let you through.’
    ‘And what shall I ride, dear sister?’ he mocked.
    ‘Take a horse, any horse.’ She pointed to a tall bulk placidly feeding. ‘Louis of Bavaria rode in on that … take it.’
    ‘And be hanged.’
    ‘It’s a risk. Take it.’
    He peered at her. ‘Do the children mean so much to you that you risk your own brother’s life?’
    ‘I don’t love them. They came from the Queen, that murdering bitch. But I love their father … Name of God! Why these questions? By now you should be kneeling before Burgundy’s man.’
    ‘I’ll go.’ Lifting down a saddle, he said: ‘I’ll need good payment.’
    Odette sighed. She unclasped the amber necklet.
    ‘You are as greedy as an Englishman. Sell this to the Jew on the Grand Pont. Do your work first.’
    He led the saddled horse to the door.
    ‘One more thing: leave word for Madame at the convent at Poissy.’
    ‘Madame?’
    ‘You grow more imbecile daily. The Princess Isabelle is always called ‘Madame’ since she was Queen of England, and has captured the heart of Orléans’s son. All his verses are written to ‘Madame’.’
    Gaspard opened the door. The rising wind hurled a crowd of leaves across the yard.
    ‘Not one more word. Ride this instant.’
    The horse’s hooves sounded very loud across the cobbles. Odette’s heart was racing, the wind moaned in wonder at her rashness.

    As the royal party crossed the square towards the Porte St Antoine, men were taking down the corpses from the gibbet. They laid the cadavers on the ground and with axes proceeded to dismember them. Heads and limbs would be spiked on the twelve gates of Paris. Katherine peeped out through the window of the moving charrette . She saw a severed head swinging in a butcher’s casual grip. She thought vaguely: St Denis! The small Dauphin Louis gave a raucous shriek.
    ‘It’s the stableman! He was my friend!’ He began to leap about in the confined space where the three children were cramped by a vast jewel-coffer brought by Isabeau from the Tour du Louvre. The carriage swayed as he jumped about, and the Queen, riding a dark stallion, looked down angrily.
    ‘My son needs discipline,’ she said to the Duke of Orléans who rode with her. He was looking rather aghast. The arbitrary execution of Gaspard, apprehended in the early dawn, had increased both his respect for Isabeau and his trepidation.
    ‘You were hasty, my lady. I would like to have learned where that knave had been, riding your brother’s horse.’
    Isabeau’s