The estate of Ponts-de-Cé stretches over several locations, including a village and several hamlets. The forests occupy the largest area, sharing this space with fields cultivated by the lord's serfs and by the freeholders to whom Lord Aldebert has granted land. A portion of their harvest is handed over to him, while the rest allows the peasants to feed themselves and supply for their daily needs. The village is near the castle and features a church, some merchants, and a few artisans. Scattered farms help to outline the estate, wedged between Terlaze and Hérigné.
Aloïs wa.s descending the river to reach her home. She stopped at the edge of the woods. A cloth bag could be seenunder a large stone propped against the solid trunk of an oak. The young woman pulled out a wide long gown and a cloak, her passport to get home.
She put on the outfit over her short tunic and pulled up her hood. The sun has already reached the treetops on the horizon. She quickened her pace and finally spotted the battlement behind the wooden bridge.
A guard stands watching in front of the gate. The man, a peasant present to fulfill the obligation of military service, immediately recognized his young mistress and opened the way for her.
— Always up early, Lady Aloïs.
— Always. It’s the best time to gather mushrooms.
She shows him the basket given by Mélisande, which is filled with boletes.
— A good harvest, that’s true. But you should be careful.
The guard shifts his attention to the forest stretching across the river.
— There are bandits and ambushes over there.
Aloïs’s tender lips curve into an uninhibited smile.
— I don’t venture far.
— Maybe a guard could accompany you. You could even ride there. That would let you get farther away. You must have exhausted the mushrooms around here.
— My parents tried, Aloïs exclaims, but soon gave up on the idea. As for the horse, I hate riding. I feel much more comfortable on my two feet than on another’s, even if they have twice as many as I do.
The guard smiled and nodded his head, amused by his mistress. The young woman stepped into the baile[1]. The Ponts-de-Cé estate is much more modest than the Angers palace, but still has several architectural advancements. The estate’s initial income allowed her father to have the stone castle built. A large square tower occupies a corner and includes the kitchens, the lord’s apartments, the soldiers' quarters, and food stores. In case of an attack, everyone can lock themselves in this keep and withstand a siege.
Other buildings made of wood or earth with thatched roofs are spread out in the courtyard: the stables, far too large now for the few horses her father owns, a forge, a sheepfold, and a barn. But all of this now seems trivial.
The estate had fallen into disrepair since the death of the family’s two eldest. Lord Aldebert has never truly recovered and has neglected his lands. His wife managed it as best as she could, but was struggling to maintain sufficient income. Not to mention the last harvests did not meet their expectations. The toll booth on the road to Angers brings in some money, but not enough to make up for the losses caused by lack of proper administration. Dame Hersende has always refused to borrow money, whether from the abbey or from their lord, fearing they would lose their lands. They own the castle and the surrounding fields, that’s all that matters to them. They spend most of their time there, Lord Aldebert no longer able to go on campaigns, and have distanced themselves from the court of the Count of Anjou. Until now, Aloïs has found nothing to fault in this life away from the turmoil of the nobility. She only regrets one thing: her father’s passivity in the face of raids on his lands.
Aloïs heads quickly to the barn, still empty at this hour. As she enters the building, a woman stands before her. Aloïs jumps and places her hand over her heart.
— Marie! You scared me.
Aloïs’s maid doesn’t seem disturbed by the reprimand. She plants her fists on her round hips and glares at her mistress with dark eyes.
— Your mother is looking for you. A messenger passed by this morning. I had quite a hard time convincing him you’d just left for your mushroom picking.
— I’m sure she didn’t doubt your sincerity.
Aloïs places her basket down and heads deeper into the barn to remove her men’s clothes under her gown.
Marie’s plaintive voice reaches her.
— What will become of me if they find out what you’re doing at dawn?
Aloïs finishes getting dressed and returns to give her clothes to the maid.
— They won't do anything to you. I will be the only one punished, don’t worry.
— But if you're punished and sent to a convent, you won’t need me anymore!
Aloïs places her hands on the woman’s broad shoulders.
— Stop questioning yourself. I’m careful, and my parents won’t know anything. But someone has to deal with these thieves. They seem to think they can do anything.
Marie grimaces. Her small, narrow eyes squint even more, getting lost in a round face. Pink cheeks and full lips give her a soft, almost childish appearance. But at this moment, fear and anger make her look like a squirrel that has had its nut stolen.
— Lord Aldebert isn't tough enough with the thieves.
— Lord Aldebert isn’t tough at all, Aloïs clarifies sarcastically.
The chambermaid grabs a veil and adjusts it on the young woman’s head.
— And what did you catch this morning?
— A sack of wheat.
Marie shakes with indignation.
— Goodness! We hardly have anything, and if they steal the barley from our bowls...
— But this time, I nearly got caught. I thought I was dealing with just two isolated men, but their accomplices arrived. And while I was fleeing into the woods, I found myself trapped in a hunting snare.
Marie’s eyes widen.
— My God! Don’t tell me that, or I won’t let you leave...
— Don’t you want to know how I got out of it?
Curiosity takes over. Marie tightens her lips. Aloïs leans in and continues in a confidential tone:
— Some riders saved me.
— Riders? What riders?
A voice echoes in the baile. Aloïs's mother must be searching for her.
— Oh dear, Marie exclaims, Lady Hersende is upset. Hurry.
Aloïs exited the barn and greeted the woman from whom she inherited her blonde hair. She walked towards her quickly. Despite the years, her mother still moved with a proud bearing, though her attire no longer had the luster it once had. Faded ribbons hold a thick braid, and the embroidery on her gown seemed to be unraveling in places. However, time had spared her features, which were barely marked by wrinkles.
Lady Hersende lets out an exasperated sigh.
— Where have you disappeared to this time?
— I’ve just come from the woods on the other side of the bridge.
The lady was not taking her eyes off her child.
— You didn’t venture further, did you?
— Of course not! I stayed within earshot of the castle, so I knew the soldiers would come to my aid if needed.
— I’ve told you a thousand times, I don’t want you going out alone! You are the daughter of the lord of this place and must act like it.
— If Berthe were still here... Aloïs complained, tired of these endless discussions.
— Your sister is gone, her mother cut in. And we don’t want you to suffer the same fate. That’s why...
Aloïs perked up. Lady Hersende seemed to hesitate, clutching her rosary between her fingers, she then appeared to steer the conversation in another direction.
— We are invited to Angers by Count Henri.
— We... You and me?
— Yes, that’s right. I asked you to get ready so we can leave quickly.
She leaned over Aloïs and felt her daughter's veil.
— But first, let Marie prepare a bath for you. You reek of earth and underbrush. You smell like your uncle. How is it possible that after spending so little time there, you already smell so strongly?
A slight flush coloured Aloïs's cheeks, but she soon regained her composure.
— Probably because the morning scents are the strongest.
— Well, it’s about time you stopped going there.
A frown formed between Aloïs's eyebrows.
— I don’t see why. My uncle has become a respected lord in Poitou, but he’s always told me he learned a lot by observing nature.
— If he had taught you how to behave at court, he would have removed a considerable burden from us.
Lady Hersende cast a final glance at her daughter, in which sadness and fear seemed to battle. A shiver ran through her, but she straightened up and turned her head.
— Hurry up, I will give orders to prepare your things.
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Baudouin walked back towards the lord’s courtyard. The crowd that had gathered in the aula did not make him feel like entering just yet. Enguerrand and Yvain had accompanied him to the tavern for dinner[2]. He had left the two servants behind to wait for the arrival of Lord Henri. The excitement was palpable in town. Heralds have come to announce the imminent entrance of the count. The notable citizens, such as the butcher, the bakers, and a few tanners, already present, mingle with the nobles and exchange words. The succession is on everyone’s mind, with the question: Will Henri return the fief to his brother?
Baudouin suspected that opinions were still divided. Everyone was making their own speculations, surely hoping to make the best of the changes that were coming. If Geoffroy were to become lord of Anjou when Henri gets the crown of England, then it will have been wise to be courteous and kind to the future suzerain. But if the lands remain in the hands of the elder, then it is better not to have offended Henri who is known for his fits of violence.
Baudouin was moving towards the aula when he spotted a man near the entrance. A smile brightened the young squire’s face. His old friend smiled back. They hugged each other.
— Raoul! It’s so good to see you.
— The pleasure is mutual.
The lawyer had not changed: tall and thin, he was wearing a short grey tunic and matching hose. His gaunt face emphasized a long nose and high forehead. His pale eyes got lost in two narrow slits that constantly seem to dissect you. Raoul was looking at his young friend thoughtfully.
— You seem different.
— Battles change a man.
— And make him grow.
The provost[3] placed his hand on Baudouin’s shoulder.
— I’m relieved to see you back alive from the English campaigns.
— I was eager to reunite with the companions. Is your position not giving you too much trouble?
— The region is thriving and naturally attracts all sorts of people. But with men like you around here, we should breathe a bit easier.
— I don’t think I’ll stay long.
— Always in need of travel and adventure.
— One doesn’t completely change.
Baudouin still remembers meeting Raoul a few years ago in this very town while the future county agent was finishing his studies at university. Baudouin had trouble understanding the point of listening to a man raving on for hours. For him, the essentials were learned outside, on the battlefield, at court, in the woods... not locked in a classroom. Raoul was right to follow his path, as he was now a man trusted by the count of Anjou and commanded the guards.
— And how is your wife? Baudouin asks.
— Lady Havoise is doing well. In fact, here she comes.
A woman stopped near Raoul and greeted Baudouin with a tight smile, to which he bowed. She was wearing a magnificent ivory silk surcoat adorned with pearls, fastened by a gold brooch. A fine veil was fixed at the top of her head, with ribbons in the colors of her outfit entwined in her braided hair. Gold rings adorn her long, slender fingers. Raoul now earned well enough to provide such fine attire for his wife.
— It's a pleasure to see you again, Lady Havoise.
— The pleasure is mine, Sir. I notice that the arrival of the Count of Anjou is attracting the interest of many lords.
— After the death of Lord Geoffroy, it seemed only natural to offer my support to his sons.
Baudouin met Lady Havoise’s gaze, which she held steadily. A glimmer lit up her grey eyes. He had always admired the beauty of this woman since he met her at his friend's wedding: tall, with an elegant figure and generous curves, which her bliaud struggled to conceal. She was undoubtedly aware of the attention she drew, and she did not seem displeased by it. There was some sensuality about her that only the provost seemed not to notice. At least, he showed no sign of concern or jealousy.
— We’ve come to offer our condolences to Geoffroy and see how he’s doing, explains Raoul.
— I learned from Anselme that the young lord was already here.
— Of course. He wanted to be present for the return of his older brother to Anjou.
— I can understand that.
Applause and cheers diverted the trio’s attention. Outside, the crowd tightened around riders, including several sergeants-at-arms, who were just entering the courtyard. A man was standing at their head. Henri, the new Count of Anjou, greeted the crowd with a wave, smiling at everyone, before dismounting. The captain of the guards greeted him and took his mount.
Of medium height, the count was well built with broad shoulders. His hair was reddish. His short cloak was bearing the marks of the journey he had just completed. His face reflected his youth, but already showed the signs of the worries inherent to his position. He walked towards the main door where the seneschal of Anjou was waiting and bowed before the young man. They both climbed the stairs to enter the great hall, the aula[4], protected by a vast wooden frame.
The count slowed down as he was passing by them and then turned back.
— You are Baudouin, my father’s former squire.
— Indeed, my Lord.
Henri seems to think for a moment, his eyes fixed on the young man. He then continues toward the reception hall, followed by the Court. The two brothers, Henri and Geoffroy, met up and engaged in a polite conversation. Baudouin observed them. They are not yet adults, although heavy responsibilities and the weight of decisions that could affect many lives was on their shoulders.
Anselme then appeared behind Baudouin.
— Is the count already here?
His younger brother confirmed that.
— I must pay my respects as archdeacon.
The clergyman weaves through the increasingly crowded hall. Everyone wanted to see the count, everyone wanted to greet him. A servant made his way to Baudouin: Enguerrand whispered a few words in his ear. The man jumped.
— I’ll withdraw, explained the squire to Raoul. It’s not necessary for me to stay here right now. We’ll meet later.
— With pleasure.
Baudouin turned and faced Havoise, who smiled at him. Fragrances of rosewater were floating around her. He could t help but feel troubled in her presence and experienced a sense of relief at the thought of leaving the place.
[1] Castle courtyard, palisade, enclosure
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[2] Lunch
[3] In the Middle Ages, a land agent of the king or a lord exercising financial, judicial, administrative and military powers.(Larousse)
[4] Large room for receptions
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