But King Peter stood and began to walk among the rose bushes. ‘I wanted the Pope to confirm me in my kingdom so that I would not have to deal with Hugh and his claims for the rest of my life.’ He looked at me. ‘And now look – I will be allowed to ruin my kingdom and I’ll involve my subjects in a war they cannot win with the Sultan and his ally Genoa.’
When the king stands, you stand. We were all up again. He looked back. ‘Please sit. I am not really here. Please do not listen, either. I am full of poison today.’
De Mézzières raised a hand and stepped towards the king. ‘Sire,’ he began.
The king frowned. ‘I know that you desire this thing,’ he said. ‘If I were allowed, I would board the first ship that could float, take my household, and sail for Cyprus, where on arrival I would kiss the ground and would never leave again. Let the Pope and Venice and Genoa have their own wars without me.’
He looked at me. ‘I liked what you said,’ he admitted. ‘I too would die that death.’
‘You are willing enough to fight the Turks, your Grace!’ de Mézzières said, with an intensity that sounded to me like the remnants of an old argument, often rehashed.
‘The Turks!’ the king said. ‘Not Egypt! Not the Sultan!’
Emile looked confused. ‘Are they different?’
You must remember that most of us in England and in France called the Saracens ‘Turks’ and ‘Hagarenes’ and made little distinction among them.
The king smiled at her. ‘Sweet Emile,’ he said, ‘the Egyptians have the richest port in our ocean, and trade. The Turks are pirates and scoundrels and slavers – the very Genoese of the Moslem world.’
‘Are not all the paynim equally our enemy?’ Emile asked. She glanced at me. I was very glad, just then, to receive her glance. The king’s attitude toward her told me that, at the very least, I had a rival. His visit here, incognito – what was I to think? There are men who can share a woman and other men are happy to share a woman with a king. And perhaps you might say I shared her with her husband, but par dieu, gentles, she hated him as much as I. She did not hate King Peter.
De Mézzières began to speak, and the king spoke over him. ‘No!’ he said. ‘Only the fools west of Italy think so.’ He frowned. Then he shook his head. ‘I am not myself today. Sir William, are you enjoying Messire Petrarch?’
I bowed. ‘With all my heart, sire,’ I said. ‘But not half as much as I enjoy the company of this lady.’
Just for a moment, I was eye to eye with the King of Cyprus.
So. And so.
I saw him, and I saw her – in one glance.
What I saw filled me with joy.
He frowned, then managed a smile. ‘How fortunate, that you may see her every day!’ he said, with forced chivalry. ‘And how fortunate for us all that her husband keeps his distance. What a fool he must be,’ the king said.
She looked away.
Thanks to the intercession of the Blessed Virgin, it was then that the bells rang for Mass.
The knowledge that the King of Jerusalem was my rival for Emile put something into me that had been beaten out. And perhaps to the power of adulterous love might be added some excitement for the crusade. I had been sure, until de Mézzières came, that the ships would sail without me. Easter saw me just able to go to Mass and return to my room without fainting, to swagger blunt swords with Fiore for a few minutes.
But after de Mézzières’ visit – and the king’s, of course – I began to gain ground.