71 With Compliments

‘At the very least let me sweep through the seedier hostelries on the outskirts of Agen. If left to his own devices who knows what damage Du Guesclin might do?’

John Stanley-22nd May 1355

Agen was known for good reason as the ‘Port of Aquitaine’. It represented the formal border between the lands controlled by the Prince and the county of Toulouse, which for the last hundred years had been a semi-independent part of the domain of the French king.


The rise and fall of the river Garonne did not affect Agen as badly as some of the other ports along the river. Higher reliability meant that precious goods from the east, which had travelled across the Mediterranean, were loaded here for transport to Bordeaux and then on to England.

John winced as Ewan came trotting to meet them. ‘A messenger from Toulouse is waiting for you in the kitchen. I delivered your note and waited for ages for a reply, but in the end, they decided they wanted to send someone to talk to you directly.’

‘I will see him immediately.’ The Earl nodded to Piers and John. ‘After I speak to the Toulousaine, I must speak with the Prince. Go to my tent and wait for me there.’

Ewan followed the Earl with a spring in his step, glancing over his shoulder as he went.

John smiled. ‘He thinks he is involved in something we aren’t. Problem is, it will encourage him to have another go at me.’

Piers frowned. ‘You are so constructive about everything but him. What can he possibly do?’

‘We shall see,’ said John with a grimace. ‘Well, anyway, the Earl will sleep in a tent tonight. I wonder who erected it for him or for that matter how they knew to do so?’

‘Don’t know, don’t care. Come on, let’s make ourselves comfortable.’ They located the Earl’s tent and as they lifted the flap Piers grimaced. ‘Well, whoever they were they didn’t expend much effort.’ The tent was empty.

When the Earl returned, he was more than a little agitated. He gazed around the empty tent.

‘No time to settle in, I am afraid. We must ride to Moissac before dawn tomorrow. Tell the kitchen to bring food and wine. You can sleep in here with me. No time to make it comfortable, however, just stuff three mattresses.’

Piers volunteered to visit the kitchen, whilst John located fresh straw for the mattresses.


The Earl briefed them on their new mission.

‘From this point on, our small expeditionary force travels through potentially hostile territory. Luckily, the king of the Franks is currently preoccupied with problems further north. Neither the bastides nor the local lords will be likely to antagonise the Prince without the prospect of support. However, Toulouse is a different issue. It is a city of tens of thousands of people. It possesses its own governing council, a royal charter to operate independently, and has the proven ability to raise a militia over a thousand strong.’

The Earl paced the tent as he spoke. ‘Having chosen to advance down this bank of the river and thus avoid the Armagnacs…’ The Earl once again talked as if he had no involvement in the decision. ‘We must now ride around Toulouse on our way to Muret. If the Toulousaines chose to attack us, our small force would struggle. I have arranged a meeting with them at Moissac, approximately ten leagues south of here. However, they insist they will only deal directly with the Prince himself. It is our task to keep the Prince safe before, during and after the meeting. To achieve this we need to survey the meeting place. We will ride hard and hope to arrive mid-morning. The rest of the company will follow at a more leisurely pace.’

The smell of roast beef arrived before the food itself. The Earl looked around and snorted. Not even a table. John’s eyebrows rose as he watched the Earl make a pocket in a small loaf of bread and pack it with slivers of meat. He sat cross-legged on his mattress to eat it.

‘Soldiers’ fare, he explained. ‘Only works if the meat is very tender; makes it possible to eat whilst riding a horse.’ He waved his hand towards the tray of food and John and Piers followed the Earl’s example. There was silence as they concentrated on the meal.

As they finished eating, the Earl rose, smiled and put his arms around his two squires. ‘Busy life isn’t it! Get an early night, we will need to be fresh tomorrow.’

Just then, the cook returned. He carried a wooden box with a sliding lid. It was tied with ribbon.

‘For you, my lord. Looks as if it might be a good bottle of wine. It was left earlier, but I forgot about it when I brought the food.’

The Earl stood up looking puzzled. ‘I can’t imagine…’ He ripped off the ribbon and gave a strange moan as he opened the box, which he promptly dropped. John could see that inside of the box was coated with what looked like congealed blood. The Earl bent down and lifted out a severed arm! On the hand, there was a ring with a quartered insignia; eagles and diamonds on a silver background. From the box, the Earl fished out a note spattered with blood and handed it to John, who passed it on to Piers. With my compliments, until we meet again, Bertrand.

His eyes met those of his squires. ‘Come with me.’ He charged across to the Prince’s tent, the limb swinging grotesquely from his grasp.

The Prince was in deep conversation with the Captal de Buch. The Earl held out the severed arm. ‘That…’ The Earl’s voice trembled with emotion. ‘Belongs to a friend of mine.’

Piers stepped forward with the bloodied note, holding it out to the Prince. ‘Du Guesclin’s calling card.’

The Prince gave a slight shake of his head.

The Earl spluttered. ‘I saw my friend only two days ago. Du Guesclin must be nearby. I propose to take a force of a dozen men and hunt him down.’

The Prince stood up and put his arm around the Earl’s shoulder. ‘I am sorry, William, but I cannot let you go. I need you to prepare for my visit to Moissac. It is what you do.’

‘Can’t the Captal check out Moissac?’

The Prince and the Captal exchanged eye contact before the Prince replied. ‘He probably could, but you do this kind of thing so well. In any case, how long do you think it would take to find du Guesclin in the pitch dark? You have no idea which way he went.’

‘True, but my guess is that he has been following us. At the very least let me sweep through the seedier hostelries on the outskirts of Agen. If left to his own devices who knows what damage du Guesclin might do?’

‘William, I will issue an order. No quarter will be given if he is captured and as soon as this current task is completed I will give you an unconditional warrant to hunt him down and execute him, but tomorrow you must go to Moissac.’

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Extract from The Prisoner of Foix--Chapter 43 -The EntranceNo need to buy a Kindle. Read it on your computer or tablet

John Stanley-26th April 1355

 

'Looks like we are going to see a bit of excitement, John. The Captain tried to get an agreement from the Prince that if there is surf running across the channel to Arcachon we will turn back to Bordeaux, but the Prince would hear none of it. Instead, he has offered to provide insurance for all three ships. If they are damaged or sunk, the owners will be compensated and every sailor who makes the passage will be given a bounty payment. What none of this seems to take into account is that if we sink in rough, fast-flowing waters we might all drown.'

John raised his eyebrows. 'But that is what we are going to do?'

'Yes, despite the fact that surf running accross the entrance is not uncommon and the deep water channel moves continually. In the end, the Prince attacked their captains on their weakest point, their professional pride! He threw down the gauntlet. He offered to take the Sally first through the channel, and to take control during the passage.' He raised his brow. 'We are going into the Bay of Arcachon, come what may! '

Extract from The Eagle of Carcassone -- Chapter 24-- A Real GoddessNo need to buy a Kindle. Read it on your computer or tablet

John Stanley - 22 July 1355

An hour later John walked with Ximene close to the river along the valley below St Feriole. It was the very essence of a summer’s day. The sun was fierce but in the shadow of the trees, it was cool and fragrant. The trees and shrubs along the riverbank hid their progress, from the Château, from St Feriole.

Eventually they reached a point where John thought it was safe to emerge from cover. To his satisfaction the stream extended into a pool with a sandy beach, shaded by trees. Where the stream entered the pool there was a flat grassy area, almost circular. Behind this, the bulk of two mountain ridges provided a splendid backdrop. He looked around once more ‘Not just a good training ground but a great training ground. If the Greek heroes knew about this they might be tempted to join me, to train with me’

Ximene laughed out loud. He turned to look at her. She had removed her outer clothes and was wearing a white chemise, cut short so that it barely reached her knees. Around her waist, she wore a plaited leather belt, obviously fashioned from the multitude of leather straps to be found in the tackle room.

She ran her hands down over her breasts. ‘When you were unconscious I heard you muttering about gods and goddesses, so  I have decided that from now on, for you, I will be the goddess.’

The Prisoner of FoixVol 1 of the series—The Treasure of Trencavel

Aquitaine, an English possession, is in crisis. It is under threat from neighbouring nations and internal dissension.

The Black Prince, King Edward III’s eldest son has been given the task of taking command in Aquitaine.

Suddenly there is an opportunity. Ximene Trencavel is the heiress to the lands of Occitan, to the east of Aquitaine: lands controlled by the Franks. Ximene wants independence, both for herself and for Occitan.

A union between Aquitaine and Occitan would be mutually beneficial. The Black Prince undertakes a secret journey to meet Ximene to negotiate a marriage contract. It is, however, a marriage neither of them really wants.

Meanwhile, the  Franks plot to murder Ximene to prevent ,not just the marriage, but any kind of union between England and Occitan.

The Eagle Of CarcassonneVol II of the series—The Treasure of Trencavel

The loose alliance between Ximene Trencavel and the Black Prince is under threat.

The Prince invades Occitan, to show his support for Ximene but it becomes an invasion which creates more problems than it solves.

The Prince has fallen hopelessly in love with Joan of Kent and Joan is now determined to marry him and become the next Queen of England.

Joan is therefore  determined to convince Ximene that she should not marry the Prince.

Part of her strategy is to encourage Ximene’s relationship with John Stanley—one of the Princes bodyguards—not an easy task as both John and Ximene have doubts about their compatibility.

However, John is grievously injured in a battle and Ximene commits herself to nurse him back to health.