The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [46]
Louis almost lost his life on that occasion and probably owed it to the fact that he looked more like an ordinary soldier than a king, so no one noticed him particularly. He said afterward that God did not intend him to die then. His horse had been killed and he was on foot believing that his last moment had come, not knowing which way to turn to escape the slaughter, when suddenly he saw a high boulder beneath a tree. He believed God had put it there for him. He stood on this and hauled himself up into the tree. The leaves were thick and he was completely hidden. From there he watched the terrible disintegration of his army.
We did not realize immediately that something was wrong. We reached the plateau and waited for the army to catch up with us. Scouts were sent back to find out what had happened and it was only when the poor wounded remnants of our army—Louis among them—came to our camp that we were fully aware of the disaster.
I had never seen Louis so distraught. He was like a different person. He was haggard; there was blood on his clothes; no one would have believed this poor creature was the King of France. His army had been overcome; all the baggage was stolen; we had lost countless horses and, worst of all, many of our men. We hardly had an army now, and as the dreadful truth swept over me I felt we could not long survive. I was filled with remorse, blaming myself. If we had not delayed in the valley, would the outcome have been different? The Turks were a ferocious enemy, determined to avenge their recent defeat but, if the guards had been in a position to go to the rescue of the rest of the army, surely it would not have been such a disastrous defeat.
In spite of my guilt, Louis was overjoyed to see me safe. Despite his lack of desire there was no doubting his affection, and as far as he could love a woman he loved me. It seemed strange to me that I, who appeared to have such a strong sensual appeal to most men, should attract him. I often thought that he would have been happier with a pious woman, one who could have shared in his devotions. I was grateful that he did not blame me, although it would have been quite reasonable for him to have done so.
He said: “It was horrible. All the time I was wondering what had happened to you. I dared not think what might have been your fate if you fell into the hands of those barbarians.”
“I should probably have ended up in a harem,” I said.
“Don’t speak of it. The thought sickens me.”
But this was no time to brood on past disasters; he had to act quickly. Here we were in a hostile land far from our objective. We had lost not only my fine clothes and jewelery, our musical instruments and all that was going to make the journey worthwhile for me, but the litters which at times had been necessary for my ladies and me, essential food and most important of all a large proportion of our army.
We were in a sorry condition.
I cannot recall that time without horror. We thought we were in a bad state but we had no notion of what was to follow. We dared not stay where we were, yet we feared to move. We knew that the country we had to traverse was overrun by Turks. Many of our survivors were wounded. They needed rest, which was impossible; they needed food, which we lacked. What could be done?
Louis took on a certain dignity. Perhaps he was better in adversity than in triumph. He prayed more than ever, which was to be expected; but he did act.
“We must go on,” he said. “We must make for Antioch. The Prince of Antioch will surely help us.”
Antioch! The name had a magic ring for me, for my uncle Raymond was now the Prince of Antioch. I remembered how he had impressed me when he visited my father’s Court long ago. I tingled with pleasure at the memory. He had then seemed to me the most handsome and enchanting man I had ever seen. Of course I had been a child, but I remembered telling him and myself that I should never forget him. Now the prospect of seeing him