October 1138
The child lifted the burnished leaves carpeting the ground with the tip of her stick. The sound of the river drowned out the crunch of her steps on dead branches. Her blond hair, tied in braids, bobbed with each movement. She was only seven, but wielded with dexterity the wooden sword her uncle had given her — her weapon, her blade against evil. She struck the air, thrust, dodged invisible foes.
— I shall drive you from my father’s lands, heathen!
Her nurse appeared on the bridge, walking briskly.
— Mistress Aloïs! Time to come home now!
The child threw a defiant glance at the woman, already out of breath without having run, then headed back toward the woods. She heard her name again but didn’t bother turning. She’d lose the servant easily enough.
Not that the woman could understand: Aloïs had made a mistake — she had to put it right. She was ready now and had learned to fight for that very reason.
She moved farther from the castle walls still under construction at Les Ponts-de-Cé, disappearing into the undergrowth. Her stick whirled above her head, thudding against trunks. But something hindered her — her sleeves. Too wide, they followed her movements with difficulty. Aloïs undid her braids and used the ribbons to bind her wrists. She studied her hands, satisfied, and resumed her imaginary battle.
Suddenly, shouting drew her attention. She cautiously moved toward the noise. Two children were fighting — boys her age. Aloïs quickly recognised one of them: young Baudouin, once again looking for trouble. This time, it was with the son of the freeholders[1] from the neighbouring hamlet. The two boys wrestled in a messy scuffle on the ground.
— Stop! she cried.
The boys froze, surprised by her authority and tone. The peasant boy’s eyes widened as he recognised the daughter of his lord and bolted like a rabbit. Baudouin got to his feet, sulking.
— I didn’t need your help to bring that lout to his knees.
Aloïs crossed her arms.
— Will you never stop fighting? Aren’t you soon to enter the clergy?
The boy fixed her with eyes as dark as raven wings. Amber glints softened the shadows in his hair.
— I won’t be a monk. I’ll be a knight!
— Since when?
— Since...
Baudouin stiffened, and his gaze darkened.
— That’s none of your concern! I have to train.
— Fine. Then fight me instead of picking on that poor boy.
— But… you’re a girl! And he wasn’t poor…
Aloïs took a defensive stance, her humble weapon raised. A grimace of disgust crossed Baudouin’s face. He hesitated, scanned the clearing. Aloïs did not move.
Annoyed, Baudouin clenched his fists, searched the ground, and picked up a stick, lifting it over his head. The two children measured each other in silence, muscles tense. The girl was clearly determined not to back down, unsettling her opponent. Baudouin swallowed, studied her posture, the way she gripped her wooden blade — she already knew what she was doing.
Aloïs lunged suddenly; Baudouin narrowly avoided the blow. The sticks clashed. The crack of wood echoed through the trees. He parried another strike and stopped a third by pressing her weapon to the ground, drawing a cry of rage from Aloïs. Baudouin stood tall.
— You’ve lost. And I’ve no time for these antics. I’ll soon be off to serve Count Geoffrey the Fair as a galopin[2].
— So you’ll be mucking out stables…
— To become a page[3], then a squire[4]!
Aloïs shrugged.
— So long as it means I no longer have to cross paths with you on my father’s lands…
Baudouin stepped forward, threatening.
— And I’d be glad never to see you again. You think you’re a knight, but you never will be.
Stung, Aloïs clenched her jaw and planted herself in front of him, chin raised.
— I defend — and will always defend — those in need.
Baudouin waved her words away with a sweep of his hand.
— A woman belongs in her husband’s house, raising children.
— Then I pity the one who’ll have to marry you! exclaimed Aloïs. In any case, it shall never be me!
— I should hope not…
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[1] A person who owns the freeholds to a piece of land or property
[2] young people in charge of the stables. Step towards becoming a page and then a squire
[3] Young boy (between 7 and 14 years old) in the service of the knight, apprentice squire
[4] Young nobleman who accompanies the knight to war, carries his shield, takes care of the weapons while waiting to be knighted himself
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