LITMIR.BIZ

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something more than a loyal servant. Perhaps the poor girl hoped Eudes would leave her with child, and deceived herself into thinking her bastard progeny would enjoy the same fate as Agnès and be recognised. She was mistaken. Eudes was not his father, Robert. Far from it, and yet the Baron had been no saint or even a man of honour. No, his son would sooner cast her out without a penny than suffer the slightest inconvenience. She would join the legions of dishonoured women who ended up in houses of ill repute, or worked on farms as day labourers in exchange for a meal and a tiny room in which to carry out their thankless chores.

      *

      Mathilde leapt up, scampering after Mabile to greet her uncle, who as a rule arrived bearing armfuls of rare and precious gifts. The Larnay wealth was among the most coveted in the Perche region. The family had had the good fortune to discover iron ore on their lands, which they exploited in the form of an opencast mine. The monarchy valued the ore – which was the envy of the English – and this manna had earned the feudal Baron a measure of royal patronage since King Philip IV the Fair* was eager to avoid any temptation on the part of the Larnay family to form an alliance with the age-old enemy. The kingdom of France had reached a partial accord with the English, but it was a volatile alliance on both sides, despite the planned union between Philip’s daughter Isabelle and Edward II Plantagenet.5

      Eudes, while not renowned for his intelligence, was no fool. Philip the Fair’s limitless need for funds made him a difficult, even a dangerous sovereign. The Baron’s approach was simple and had borne fruit: he would grovel and pledge his loyalty to the King by alluding indirectly to the demands and the offers of the English; in brief, he would show his allegiance, reassure him, while at the same time encouraging his generosity. It did not pay, however, to go too far; Philip and his counsellors had not hesitated to imprison Gui de Dampierre in order to rob him of Flanders, to confiscate the property of the Lombards and the Jews or even to order the abduction of Pope Boniface VIII* during his visit to Anagni.* Eudes was well aware that if he opposed the King or displeased him in the smallest way, it would not be long before he was discovered at the bottom of a ditch or stabbed to death by some providential vagabond.

      *

      Agnès stood up with a sigh, adjusting her belt and veil. A quiet voice made her jump:

      ‘Take heart, Madame. He is no match for you.’

      It was Clément. He was so good at making himself inconspicuous, invisible almost, that she had all but forgotten he was there.

      ‘Do you believe that?’

      ‘I know it. After all, he is only a dangerous fool.’

      ‘Dangerous, indeed – dangerous and powerful.’

      ‘More powerful than you, but less so than others.’

      And with these words he slipped through a small postern door leading to the servants’ garderobe.6

      What a strange child, she thought, making her way towards the hubbub outside. Was he capable of reading her thoughts?

      Eudes’s voice boomed out. He was shouting orders, bullying this person and showering abuse on that. The moment Agnès appeared in the courtyard, the expression of loathing and irritation on her brother’s face was replaced by a smile. He walked over to her with open arms and cried out:

      ‘Madame, you grow more radiant every day! Those mastiffs of yours are wild animals. You must set aside a pair of males for me from the next litter.’

      ‘What a pleasure to see you, brother. Indeed, they are fierce towards strangers, but loyal and gentle with their masters and the herds. I trust your household is thriving. And how is your good lady wife, my sister Apolline?’

      ‘Big with child, as is her custom. If only she could manage to produce a son! And how she stinks of garlic, sweet Jesus! She pollutes the air from dawn till dusk. Her physic maintains that taking brews and baths made from the revolting bulb will produce a male. So she swallows it, stews in it, spews it – in short, she makes my days a living hell, and as for my nights …’

      ‘Let us pray that she will soon bear you a sturdy son, and me a handsome nephew,’ interrupted Agnès.

      She, too, opened her arms in order to seize the hands that threatened to close around her body. And then she quickly moved away under the pretext of giving orders to the farm hand, who was struggling to control Eudes’s exhausted, nervous mount.

      ‘Why don’t you get off that horse!’ Eudes barked at the page, who was nodding off astride his broad-chested gelding.

      The young lad, barely twelve years old, leapt from the saddle as if he had been kicked.

      ‘Good. Now get a move on! A pox on your sluggishness,’ Eudes roared.

      The terrified boy began seeing to the load weighing down his packhorse.

      Acting the suzerain, Eudes led his sister into the vast dining hall – so cool even the worst heat wave could barely warm its walls. Mabile had laid the table and was leaning against the wall awaiting her orders, her head bowed and her hands clasped in front of her apron. Agnès noticed that she had taken the trouble to change her bonnet.

      ‘Fetch me a ewer so I may rinse my hands,’ Eudes ordered, without so much as a glance in her direction.

      As soon as the girl had gone, he asked Agnès:

      ‘Does she please you, my lamb?’

      ‘Indeed, brother, she is obedient and hard-working. Although I suspect she misses serving in your household.’

      ‘What of it! Her opinion doesn’t interest me. Good God, I’m ravenous! Well, my beauty. What news from your part of the world?’

      ‘Not a great deal, to be sure, brother. We had four new piglets this spring, and so far the rye and barley crops are flourishing. We expect a good yield, if the continual rain of the past few years stays away. When I think that less than fifteen years ago they were harvesting strawberries in Alsace in January! But I mustn’t bore you with my farmer’s complaints. Your niece,’ she pointed to Mathilde, ‘has been bursting with eagerness to see you again.’

      He turned towards the little girl, who had been vainly attempting to attract his attention with smiles and sighs.

      ‘How pretty she is, with that little face and those honey-blonde curls. And those big dreamy eyes! What passions you will soon provoke, my beloved.’

      The overjoyed girl gave a polite curtsey. Her uncle continued:

      ‘She is made in your image, Agnès.’

      ‘On the contrary, I think she resembles you when you were a child – much to my pleasure. Although you and I, it is true, might have been mistaken for twins had it not been for your superior strength.’

      She was lying deliberately. They had never borne the slightest resemblance to one another – except for the colour of their coppery golden hair. Eudes was stocky, with heavy features, a square jaw, an overly pointed nose, and his skinny lips resembled a gash when they were not uttering some bawdy word or insult.

      All of a sudden his face grew sullen, and she wondered if she had gone too far. His eyes still riveted on his half-sister, he said to the girl in a soft voice:

      ‘How would you like to do me a good turn, my angel?’

      ‘Nothing would please me more, uncle.’

      ‘Run and find out what has become of that good-for-nothing page. He’s taking a long time to unload his horse and bring me what I requested.’

      Mathilde turned and hurried out to the courtyard. Eudes continued solemnly:

      ‘Were it not for your goodness, Agnès, I would have resented the distress your arrival into this world caused my mother. What a slight, what an insult for such a pious, irreproachable woman.’

      Agnès was glad of the remark, for she feared he

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