The Rebel Princess by Judith Koll Healey Read Free Book Online

distinct flags.
    “I see the Templars’ flag now, the white with the red cross, and the brilliant blue—that would be William’s house. But there are two I don’t recognize.”
    Philippe squinted against the late afternoon sun, shading his eyes with his hand. “You would not. They are seldom seen in Paris. This pair of flags signals little good. They represent the pope of Rome and the abbey of Cîteaux. They announce the two monks I told you of, those who come to persuade me to war.”
    “Cîteaux, the Cistercian abbey?” My eyes closed as I saw once again the sinister white-robed Cistercian monk of my visitation, and my son Francis standing next to him. “You did not say they were Cistercians.”
    “The leader is called Arnaud Amaury. He is abbot of Cîteaux. The other, the lesser in power I think, is named Pierre of Castelnau.” My brother continued to watch the advancing party, even as he spoke. “Why the interest? Have you heard these names before?”
    I shook my head, for in truth Joanna had not mentioned the names of the monks. But there was no doubt in my mind. These were the two bent on mischief in the lands of Toulouse. “Mere curiosity, Brother. Nothing more.” I paused. “And why does William ride with their party?”
    Philippe sighed and turned toward me, casting a baleful glance in my direction.
    “God himself only knows, but the sense of the letter delivered only an hour past from William’s advance courier is that he met the monks’ party just north of Poitiers and made it his business to travel with them to Paris. No doubt he intended to garner information on the journey, under the pretense that they were both coming to our court to discuss the same problem…”
    “Namely, the heretics in the south,” I interjected. He nodded, andturned away again, saying no more.
    I knew better than to press the subject, and waited a moment, watching the progress of the colorful snake as it made its way across the bridge onto our little island. When next the king spoke, his tone became more agreeable.
    “I did not ask you when we met: Have you had news from William recently?”
    “I’ve not had anything since Whitsun. Last December the pope promised to release William from his Templar vows so that we might marry after he performed one final mission. When I agreed to this, I did not know that final mission would take the rest of his natural life! I will be glad of heart to see his diplomacy end soon.” I didn’t bother to keep the irritation from my voice.
    Philippe motioned to me as he moved toward the opening of the narrow stairwell that led down the turret. I followed him, as the passage was too narrow to accommodate both of us. He kept talking over his shoulder as we descended. The steps were so steep and rough that I nearly tripped when a small cat ran across my path. They were slippery as well, and I had need of the iron rings in the wall from time to time to steady myself. The moss growing on the walls added to the gloom.
    “William has confided in me his plan to marry you and return to Ponthieu as soon as he concludes his present business.” He paused, one jeweled, slippered foot rotating on the white stone step, and turned upward to me. His voice held an uncharacteristic softness as he continued: “I told him he had my permission and my blessing.” I was oddly moved, for the second time in this interview, by my brother’s affection. I placed my hand on his shoulder, which he touched briefly before continuing his descent.
    “When did you have this conversation, Brother?” I asked, suddenly suspicious.
    The king, never one to show emotion for long, resumed his brisktone. “William was with me when I met with Count Raymond in Blois these few weeks past.”
    “You did not say!” I burst out. “Why did you not tell me William would be meeting you? I would have come!”
    “I did not wish to raise your hopes. Until the very last, he was not certain he could be in Blois in time for the