‘ Oh, go on, give me a kiss. You received my favour at Clermont and though I must protect my chaste image, a peck on the cheek can do no harm.’
John Stanley-18th June 1355
One of the soldiers dashed over to greet the Earl and he stopped to talk. The monk waited until the end of the conversation and then conducted them to a roughly-built wall, pierced by a substantial oak door.
Again, a wait. The monk played tour guide. ‘This is a very old part of the building. In Roman times it was Pompey’s country villa and then a Château of the Couseran family. It has now been renovated and is reserved for our most honoured guests.’ He rang the bell again and Joan opened the door almost immediately. She wore a formal dress in the same silver and blue pattern which the soldiers wore.
The Earl kissed her on both cheeks and strode through the door surveying the rough stone walls, the rustic furnishings and the rough cloth curtains.
He smiled. ‘Have you managed to settle in now? You were less than happy last time we spoke.’
She returned the smile and offered her cheek to be kissed again. ‘Yes, but trust me, it is infinitely better than the Château Prat, where you originally sent me. Things can be more than a little basic in the Pyrenees.’
She turned to John. Her voice echoed with warmth. ‘Now, what have we here?’ Her smile set John at ease. ‘Welcome, John Stanley. My, how that uniform suits you. How long is it since I last saw you? You seem to have grown.’
She offered her cheek to John. He hesitated. ‘Oh, go on, give me a kiss. You received my favour at Clermont and though I must protect my chaste image, a peck on the cheek can do no harm.’
John tossed a glance the Earl’s way, then obliged.
‘Ooh, that was lovely.’ She wriggled and giggled. ‘The Earl tells me you are good at close combat. If you had come on your own, perhaps you could have given me a demonstration!’
‘Joan,’ the Earl scolded.
‘Yes, of course, my vow of chastity.’ Her voice took on a tone of disappointment. ‘All right.’ She smoothed her hands down her skirt and let her shoulders dance a little. ‘Tell me, John, do you like my blazon? It is traditional for the Earls of Kent.’
‘Yes, indeed, and from a distance, it is exactly the same colour as the favour you gave me at Clermont.’
‘Which you have of course treasured and kept close to your person?’
‘But of course, Milady.’ John reached into his shoulder bag, produced the scarf and kissed it. He was surprised to find himself enjoying this minor flirtation but caught sight of the Earl standing behind Joan, slowly shaking his head.
Joan must have sensed the interference and turned to look at the Earl. ‘William, just look at him; the very image of chivalry. When are you going to make him a knight?’
‘You know very well, Joan, that knighthoods are given at the discretion of the King. Not even the Prince can give the accolade unless the King approves.’
‘That may be so, William, but you are going to have to do something.’
John realised that they were about to discuss his future. The brief flirtation was over. He moved towards the door.
The Earl beckoned him to return.
‘No, John, don’t go. What Joan has to say has great implications for you.’ He turned back to Joan. ‘Please continue.’
Joan winked at John. ‘John, I am sorry. I know it is difficult to talk about your situation in front of you, but I believe this big buffoon has put you at great risk.’
John snatched a glance at the Earl, whose only reaction was a tolerant smile. John turned back to Joan. ‘What greater risk can there be? At one stage, I was to take the blame for stealing away with the future Queen of England.’
‘Stealing away with the lady who has the ambition to be the future Queen of England,’ corrected Joan, icily.
‘Actually, I don’t think she has yet formed that ambition. Her major objective is to remove herself so that she can make up her own mind what she wants to do.’
‘You see, William? Loyalty is already there.’
‘Yes, I know. I did discuss it with John before we left Foix.’
‘Excellent. So, tell me, John, why did you accept this onerous duty?’
‘Adventure.’ John shrugged. ‘A chance to prove myself. A desire to serve Ximene.’
‘A chance to be close to her?’ Joan’s eyes widened with her words.
John looked appealingly at the Earl.
‘Well, yes. Who wouldn’t want to be close to her?’
Joan smiled.
The Earl’s face suddenly looked as it was carved in granite.
Joan glanced at him and laughed. ‘Pay no attention to William, John, at least in these matters. He is, himself, very romantic …’ She gave him a particularly loving smile. ‘But he finds it difficult to tolerate a romantic instinct in others.’
‘Not true, Joan, but I do have my responsibilities and right now Ximene is one of them.’
‘I think I have been told that the Prince has agreed that Ximene will remove herself to some place of safety out of control of her guardian and indeed out of control of the Prince himself, so she may make up her mind on what to do with her life…that she wishes John to accompany her, to give some additional measure of protection and eventually to be a conduit for negotiation.’
‘Yes.’
‘And now the Prince has told Ximene that as the first gesture of his willingness to conduct a negotiation with her, he recognises retrospectively the independent nation of Occitan, with Ximene as its rightful head.’
The Earl’s eyebrows rose. ‘You have seen the Prince again, and recently,’ he said.
‘Perhaps, perhaps not; but I am right, am I not?’
John saw the slightest nod.
‘Oh, William, you place such store on chivalry but sometimes you forget the principles. What are the cornerstones of chivalrous behaviour?’
The Earl was clearly disturbed at the thrust of the conversation.
‘Hmm, something like this. Do your duty to your Lord, honour God, and protect women. Live your life by the rules, and where there are no rules, invent some that are fair and just.’
‘Good. We agree. I could not have put it better myself. But now you have revealed the difficult situation you have created for John. Ximene is a woman, so he should protect her and consider her needs.’
Joan waved a finger in front of her face. ‘But her God is not the God for which the laws of chivalry were framed, so he could be damned by the church for associating with her.’
She now held out both hands as if in supplication. ‘Finally, she has been declared a head of State and not the State to which John has currently sworn homage. She is no longer simply a young girl who does not know her own mind. John has already sworn homage to the Prince as one of his guards. He could be seen as a traitor if he sides with Ximene, even over something such as a negotiation with the Prince. It totally undermines any concept of chivalry.’
‘Hmm. I do know what you are driving at. He is caught in the middle, but if he were to give homage to Ximene, he could not represent the Prince’s interests. If he did represent the Prince’s interests after declaring homage to Ximene, he would be a traitor to Ximene.’
‘Exactly. He has no chance of being honourable unless the Prince releases him. From the moment the Prince recognised Ximene as a Head of State, John has been in an impossible position.’
Joan turned to John. ‘Now, John, would you be prepared to give homage to Ximene and serve her and the State of Occitan?’
John glanced despairingly at the Earl, whose face still was motionless. He turned back to Joan. ‘Is there really the State of Occitan?’
Joan gave the Earl no chance to reply. ‘What makes a State? Speaking the same language, having the same culture, worshipping the same god, living in an area clearly delineated by natural features, being prepared to group together for mutual defence? By all these criteria, there is the State of Occitan. But now there certainly is, because the Prince, one of the most powerful men in Europe, has recognised it.’
John was painfully aware that this discussion was about his personal dilemma. ‘I will be honest with you, Milady. I have no idea why Ximene places such importance on me being with her, but I have agreed to do my best to keep her safe. I have, I think, already shown my ability to do that. I could not let her down, not at this late stage. Yes, I would swear homage to her.’
Joan’s eyes gleamed. She beamed a triumphant smile. ‘That, young man, is the very essence of chivalry. William will ensure the Prince understands this. Perhaps, with my help, you can be released from your oath to the Prince. It is not possible for a man to give homage to two different masters. It is at the very heart of our code.’
The Earl reluctantly nodded his agreement. Joan took a deep breath.
‘Good. In the New Year, the Prince will place diplomatic pressure on the Pope to recognise the State of Occitan. However, the power of the Pope is such that only legitimate heirs will ever be recognised as rulers of Occitan. And that will mean that Ximene will have to take part in a Roman ceremony of marriage with whosoever she chooses as a partner. John, you must make sure she understands this.’
John nodded, pleased for the assistance Joan had given him, but at the same time realising Joan was now casting him in the role of a political advisor to a head of State. His heart sank. Where would all this end?
As they left to return to Foix, John pondered the strange circumstance he found himself in. ‘Was that what you expected?’ he asked the Earl.
‘It is a good outcome. Chivalrous instincts, which are strong in you, have guided you to make the correct decision.’
‘Could there have been another outcome?’
‘I half hoped that when the situation was exposed, you would have chosen not to accompany Ximene. There are several projects in which I rather hoped you would provide assistance. You have some special talents. That is why I wanted you to hear it from Joan and not from me. Anything I said would have sounded like a command.’
‘I could not desert Ximene.’
‘I know you couldn’t. For you, it would be impossible. That is what makes you special.’
‘But you are unhappy with the outcome?’
‘You are putting yourself willingly in great danger. Once you leave us, we cannot come and rescue you. The best I can offer is that if events turn against you; if you can make it back to somewhere within the Prince’s realm, you, both of you, will be welcome. However, from tomorrow night, you will cease to be my squire.’
‘I hadn’t thought of that. Can I keep my role as a royal guard?’
‘Let me talk it through with the Prince, but I don’t believe you can. I will try and arrange for you to be an honorary member, but I am not sure even that is possible.
‘So I have lost everything I have gained since joining your service?’
‘Not quite. I hold you in high regard and will always give you the opportunity to advance if you return to us. In the meantime, this will be a very useful experience. Who knows where it might lead? You are the first citizen, and the most experienced soldier, in the new State of Occitan!’
On the journey back to Foix, John found it difficult to come to grips with what was now expected of him. At least his role had been redefined as honourable, chivalrous even.
At least he would not be branded an outlaw. But… was he now a citizen of a different State? One that followed a different religion?
What about his education? Was what had happened in the cave underneath Château Foix chivalrous behaviour? Was Ximene teaching him how to be her lover? As her subject, must he comply with her every demand? Of course, he had not asked advice on the most pressing question. Would it still be considered chivalrous to make love to Ximene?
