A Proud Taste for Scarlet and Miniver by E. L. Konigsburg Read Free Book Online Page A

of being too tired to emerge in the morning, see to it that she is carried to Damascus.”

10
     
    THE PLAN to take Damascus was a failure. The pilgrims had to make their way to Jerusalem without victory. Louis refused to wear his crown in the city where our Lord had worn the Crown of Thorns. (An elegant gesture, I thought.) Odo’s letters were full of Louis’s worries: about Eleanor, about his marriage, about the fate of Jerusalem.
    I could do nothing about saving Jerusalem, but I did what I could to save the marriage. I wrote to the Pope and told him of the serious quarrel that had occurred between Eleanor and Louis. Then I wrote to Louis and urged him to return home by way of Rome. I suggested that a visit to the Pope would give Eleanor and him a chance to renew their marriage vows. A chance to begin again.
    My plan worked. The Pope had long talks with them both and reassured Louis that the Church was always willing to grant special permission when a marriage served so much good. He told them that he wanted to hear no more talk of cousins, that the word was not to be mentioned in their conversations again. Louis was relieved. He and Eleanor made up. They then asked the Pope to urge God to grant them an heir.
    Eleanor and Louis returned to Paris in November, and they had another child, but not a future king. Another girl, whom they named Alix.
    While they had been gone, I had, thanks be to God, beautifully redecorated the royal palace, but the winter of their return was a cold one. Cold for Paris, but colder still compared to Constantinople and Antioch. Eleanor came to see me; she lacked her usual smile, her usual high color.
    “What is the matter?” I asked. “You look pale, my lady.”
    “Why should I not, Abbott? My husband has drained the color from everything else. His world is all black and white, right and wrong.”
    “He has grown, Eleanor. He is much more a king than the man you married fifteen years ago.”
    “Ha! Abbot. I thought I married a king, and I find I married a monk.”
    “What else is bothering you, Eleanor?”
    “The gray color of life at our court. The tastelessness of everything. Louis now eats the plain fare of the monks; he dines with them instead of with me. Abbot, I, too, have grown. I am much more a queen now than I was in those days when I was sending Louis into the Aquitaine and into Champagne to do battle for my every whim. I have learned a great deal. I want to use what I have learned. I want to be a queen, one who sets a pattern for life in the land. One who gives tone and tune to her country. And now that I have learned so much, Louis will not listen to me.” She looked down at her lap and said, “Besides, I don’t love Louis.”
    “But what has marriage to do with love, Eleanor? Marriage is a land contract not a love match.”
    “I keep thinking it can be something more. I have much more than land to give.”
    “For my sake, Eleanor, stay with Louis. Come here, come to me, to my church, when you need to see beautiful things, when you need to talk about the glories of Constantinople. I can be your confessor for all things.”
    “Yes, for all things. Dear Suger, dear, dear Suger. Abbot Bernard says that to love beautiful carvings is to worship idols, but you tell me that love of such beauty leads to love of God. To Abbot Bernard, I am living in sin with my cousin-husband. To you, I am holding the realm together.”
    “Visit me often, Eleanor.”
    “Yes, Abbot. You shall be my specialist.”
    “In all things, Eleanor. Thanks be to God, I am a specialist in everything.”
    “Abbot Suger, you shall spend time in Hell for your lack of modesty.” Eleanor laughed. Her laughter had some of its former naughtiness, and I couldn’t help but join in.

 
    ELEANOR was sitting on a cloud, hugging her knees. Abbot Suger smiled down at her. “You know I loved those long visits of yours. They were the joy of my last months on Earth. What happened after I died, Eleanor? Why did you