‘We’ll all come to see you and you must come here to see us,’ consoled Urraca.

‘You won’t be here. It’ll happen to you. You’ll both have to marry too.’

Urraca and Blanca looked at each other in dismay. It would happen, of course. It happened to all. Their long carefree days would cease and their enchanted childhood would end.

‘At least your husband has the same name as our father,’ said Blanca soothingly, ‘so he can’t be so bad.’

‘I wonder what the names of our husbands will be,’ said Urraca.

At which Berengaria cried out: ‘You are so young … too young to understand. What do names matter? I’m going away … right away … It’s never going to be the same again.’


* * *

Nor was it, for understanding had come to them. Like Adam and Eve they had eaten of the tree of knowledge, and they were now aware that life could change.

In due course Berengaria went away and married the King of Léon. Their parents pacified her and told her that all would be well. She was going to be a queen and that was a very pleasant thing to be. She would help to rule with her Alfonso. Think how exciting that would be. And there would be occasions when the King and Queen of Léon would visit the King and Queen of Castile.

But Berengaria could not be easily appeased. She was going to a strange land and leaving the happy home of her childhood.

Her parting words were ominous. ‘Your turn will come.’

They missed Berengaria but after a while they became accustomed to being without her and for three years nothing was said of marriage, but it was inevitable that it must come sooner or later.

This time both girls were summoned to their parents. Eleanor looked a little sad and as she drew them to her and held them close, a foreboding touched them, because what had happened to Berengaria had warned them.

Each girl was afraid – Urraca because she guessed it was for her the next husband had been found, and Blanca because she believed she would be the one to be left behind. They had missed their eldest sister, but at least there had been two of them – now she would be alone.

‘This is really very good news,’ said Eleanor. ‘There could not be a grander match for you.’

She was looking at Urraca who began to tremble.

‘Don’t be afraid, child,’ went on Eleanor. ‘Your father and I assure you that unless this was the best for you we would never consider it. But we should be foolish indeed were we to refuse such an honour. Few princesses could receive a greater. Urraca, my dearest, the King of France has sent messengers to your father. He wants you as a bride for his son, Louis. We shall tell him that we are conscious of this great honour and when the settlement has been arranged there need be no delay in uniting our families.’

Urraca looked as though she would burst into tears and her mother took her hands and cried: ‘Why, my child, you should be rejoicing. Do you realise what this means? Berengaria is the Queen of Léon and that is very fine, but you will be the Queen of France. There is nothing better I could wish for you.’

‘But I must go away and leave you all …’

‘Dearest Urraca, it is the lot of all princesses. You have been fortunate. You have learned how to make a happy home for the family you will have. I know, my dear daughter, that you are going to be so happy.’

‘I’m not, I’m not,’ sobbed Urraca. ‘I want to stay with you and our father and Blanca.’

‘I don’t want her to go,’ cried Blanca. ‘I shall be all alone.’

‘Not for long, my dear. Very soon a husband will be found for you and if he is as suitable as those of your sisters, your father and I will be proud and happy. Now listen to me. Your grandmother is so pleased with the match that she is coming here. She will take you, Urraca, to the Court of France and stay with you until you are safely married – so eager is she for the match and so important does she find the matter.’

‘My grandmother!’ cried Urraca in even greater dismay. It was bad enough to have to face a husband but in the company of that formidable lady it would be an even greater ordeal.


* * *

The redoubtable Eleanor of Aquitaine – eighty years of age though she was – made the long journey from Fontevrault, where she had hoped to spend her last days in peace and, it was whispered, repentance for a scarcely blameless life.

Great preparations were in progress at the Castile castle for Eleanor of Castile was in awe of her mother now as she always had been; and Urraca and Blanca wanted to hear everything their mother had to tell about their grandmother.

They knew already that she had gone to the Holy Land with her first husband – another Louis who had been a King of France – and how she had come near to death in the midst of battles between Christian and Saracens. She had divorced Louis and married Henry, the King of England, and then had lived that wild and adventurous life with him which had culminated in her becoming his prisoner.

Their mother warned them. ‘You must take the greatest care in your manner towards her. If you offend her she will let you know it. Her temper was often a little uncertain and now she is suffering a great tragedy. Your Uncle Richard has died so lately and I can imagine what great sorrow this has caused her.’ Their mother’s eyes grew misty as she looked back over the past. ‘Richard was always her favourite. How she doted on him. He was very handsome. She taught him to hate our father and he learned his lesson well.’

‘That was not right, was it, my lady?’ asked Blanca. ‘Should a son be taught to hate his father?’

‘My mother did what she considered right for herself. She never obeyed rules. Nay, my child, it would have been better for all if she had taught him tolerance. But she is a proud woman, the proudest I ever knew. She is very old now. Yet she comes here. I tremble fearing that she may not survive the journey. But when her family need her she will be there.’

‘Why do we need her?’ asked Urraca. ‘Cannot the marriage be made without her?’

‘It is a very important marriage.’ Their mother lowered her voice. ‘Far far more important than that of your sister. Your grandmother is eager that nothing shall go wrong, so she will take you to the Court of France and see you married herself.’

‘Does she think the King will not let me marry his son if she did not insist?’

‘In these matters, certain details can go wrong and this may spoil arrangements. Your grandmother wishes nothing to go wrong. She is very eager for this match. Therefore she will take you to the Court of France and see the ceremony performed perhaps … or at least make sure that it will be performed.’

‘So I shall travel with her,’ murmured Urraca.

‘Be of good cheer, my child,’ said her mother. ‘Life will become wonderful for you. You are going to a great country. You have a wonderful destiny before you.’

Blanca asked: ‘Shall I have a great destiny too, my lady?’

‘I doubt it not, my love,’ answered Eleanor. ‘But Urraca’s bridegroom will be the King of France and there are few greater destinies than that.’

Each day they watched from the castle turrets for the coming of their grandmother.


* * *

When she came she was every bit as formidable as they had imagined.

She came riding at the head of the party and she called out as soon as she entered the courtyard: ‘Where is my daughter?’

Eleanor the younger was there. The old Queen had dismounted and taken her daughter into her arms. She held her tightly and would not release her for some time. Then she drew back to look at her and declared she seemed in good health and turning to Alfonso she said in a loud ringing voice: ‘And I should have wanted an answer from you, my lord, if my daughter had not been well cared for.’

‘My lady mother has not changed,’ said Eleanor; and she kept the old Queen’s hands in hers as they came into the castle.

What feasting there was! Each day the hunters had brought in fine bucks and they had been baking in the kitchens in readiness for the arrival of the old Queen. Her daughter wished her to rest awhile but she would not hear of it; and she sat at the table while the troubadours played and sang their songs and she took a lute too and with the minstrels sang the songs she had sung as a girl; and it seemed she was very happy to be with her daughter.

It astonished the girls that she could be so tender; they had thought such a formidable old woman would never look so lovingly on any as she did on their mother.

She had eyed the girls rather sharply, and when they had both kissed her hand, they felt awkward under her scrutiny. She had asked of their mother: ‘You have brought them up well, have you? Their manners must be graceful. You know the French.’

My mother said that she did not think even the French would have aught of which to complain.

At which their grandmother turned her attention from her granddaughters and gave herself up to contemplating her daughter.

That night the two girls lay on their pallets and talked about the future. They were both sad, yet excited. It was hard to imagine life without each other – yet Berengaria had gone and they scarcely missed her now.

‘I wish,’ said Blanca, ‘that we did not have to grow up.’

‘And there are years and years ahead of us,’ sighed Urraca, ‘if we are going to be as old as our grandmother.’

Then they talked of what they thought it would be like at the Court of France and Blanca was sad for she said that all the excitement would be Urraca’s and it is easier to accept change when it is exciting.