Crusade

Estrith’s candour was a revelation. She had never given the slightest hint of being anything other than a pious nun. I pressed on, searching for the right words.

‘Actually, the “delicate subject” does not concern me.’

‘What a disappointment, I’ve never bedded a prince…’

Estrith sensed that her bold statement had discomfited me. She paused before continuing.

‘The habit is real and I have taken the vows, but they are a means to an end. My passion is building churches, not praying in them. As for my womanly passions, I have them like anybody else — perhaps a little more than most.’

I understood her plight. To make her way in the world as a woman, she had only two choices: to marry a man of substance or status, which in itself would mean her husband would almost certainly constrain her options, or take Holy Orders and devote her life to Christ and worthy causes, a choice that meant she would adhere to the demands of chastity and charitable servitude. She had chosen the latter, but only to further her real objective, which was to express her talents and fulfil her destiny.

‘Your honesty has made it easier for me. My mission doesn’t involve a prince; it is a duke who desires you.’

‘I feared so. He’s not very good at disguising his feelings.’

‘No, indeed not… but there it is.’

‘I’m sorry that you have had to act as ambassador. I confess, it’s not the first time an intermediary has approached me on someone else’s behalf — though not usually a royal prince. I don’t regret my denial of my vows, but they’re not real — I took them so that I could do what I want to do. It may not be very virtuous, but I ask you — in my place, what would you do?’

‘So, what shall I tell my impatient duke?’

‘Although I’m flattered to be pursued by the Duke of Normandy, the answer will have to be no. It’s perhaps best that you suggest that it’s more to do with my devotion to God than my preference for handsome young masons over rather diminutive and somewhat rotund dukes.’

Passing on Estrith’s rejection to Robert was not easy, but her suggestion of a somewhat ambiguous phrasing made her response more palatable for the Duke.

‘Robert, I’m sorry to tell you that her calling to follow Christ is sincere. It was not an easy conversation to have with a woman who has taken Holy Orders; she was flattered that you desire her, but she has asked that you respect her calling.’

‘Damn! I was certain she was a woman of the world. What am I going to do now? I won’t be able to look her in the eye.’

Robert’s concern was one that I privately shared.

Despite my worries, it was Estrith who found a way to restore the ease and mutual respect of their friendship. She handled the next encounter with Robert very well.

The following evening, when it was her turn to sing, she walked up to him, curtsied and, with a charming smile, asked him to choose what he would like her to sing for him. The warmth of the gesture took away any embarrassment Robert might have felt, and the evening passed as pleasantly as any other.

However, it took me several days to get over the forthright honesty of Estrith’s response to Robert’s request. I now saw her very differently; my feelings for her had been transformed from admiration to fascination.

There had been little rain and, three days later, we sweltered beneath a searing sun as we crossed the Dordogne at the ancient bridge at Souillac. The lush green of the countryside became a little less verdant and the dust of the road a lot more tiresome. Our tranquil journey was becoming less so, and it was a comfort to know that the cool breezes of the Lot would soon bring some respite from the heat.

The last two days of the journey became a cause for concern. Suddenly, the trickle of travellers passing us going north ceased — a sure sign of problems ahead. Robert sent men down the road to find out what was wrong. They returned the next morning with the bad news.

‘Sire, the road is deserted all the way to Cahors, where the city gates are closed and men are patrolling the walls. Trade on the Lot is prohibited. It’s putrid fever, my Lord. No one may enter or leave the city.’

Robert looked at me quizzically. I had not heard of putrid fever either, but Estrith had.

‘The Greeks call it typhus. It’s a plague.’

She immediately rode off.

I called after her. ‘Where are you going?’

‘To help! Putrid fever is a killer.’

Adela then called to her.

‘If you have the skills to help, we must ride to St Cirq Lapopie. It’s only twenty miles from Cahors; they may need your help there.’

Estrith stopped and swung her mount round.

‘I’m sorry, Adela, I wasn’t thinking straight. You’re right.’

Robert beckoned to us to go, saying that he would follow on with his retinue as quickly as he could.

Within minutes, we were off at a gallop with Adela in the vanguard.

Our anxiety grew as we travelled upstream. Every small settlement along the banks of the river was deserted, and we met no one on the road.

Adela kicked on even harder.