‘And Aquitaine?’

‘My dearest Eleonore, you and he could travel to your dominions now and then. You could spend your lives travelling from place to place which is always a more entertaining way than to stay in one place.’

‘It does not seem impossible.’

‘You do not find him repulsive?’

‘Not entirely so.’

Raymond hid a smile. His voluptuous niece desired the man, and their own relationship had lost the first flush of novelty. He was visualising the outcome of this daring scheme. If she married Saladin who would look after her estates in Aquitaine? Who better than her uncle who after all might have inherited them if he had been the elder brother. Eleonore could enjoy her Saracen and he would go to Aquitaine, for his position in Antioch was very insecure. And in time Aquitaine would be his. It would suit him very well, for if he were not going to get French help to subdue the Greek Emperor he would need to make other plans.

‘Think about it,’ he said, ‘and you will see it is not as impossible as you at first believed.’


She did think about it. Her mind was full of images. The Saracen was such a handsome man - so tall, dark-skinned with enormous expressive eyes.

Saldebreuil de Sanzay arrived back. She was delighted to see him not because he was a man whom she found charming so much as because his return was a symbol of Saladin’s desire to please her.

Comparing the Saracen with Louis she despised her husband more than ever. So much meditation, so many prayers irritated her and she had no doubt whatsoever that she wished to escape from him.

She loved her uncle but he was after all her uncle and he was getting old. Saladin was young.

The prospect of having a new husband excited her. She would not wish to make the same mistake again. She would not want a half man as she was beginning to think Louis was. What had Louis but his dominions? Strip Louis of his crown and there was not a man at his court whom she would not have preferred.

But Saladin! A Saracen!

Why not? There had been marriages between Christians and Saracens before this.

She would test herself. She would see how she felt about marriage with a Saracen. She must be sure that there should be a perfect union between them.

Her manner had changed towards him. She was warmer, more inviting.

Saladin was not the man to be blind to her veiled suggestions.

At their next meeting they became lovers.

A most exhilarating experience for Eleonore.

They lay together afterwards and talked of the possibilities of a marriage. First of course she must rid herself of that tiresome encumbrance, the King of France.

Saladin was dubious of this possibility, but he did not say so. He was eager to please his new and exciting mistress and was ready to indulge in any fantasy she suggested.


Louis was becoming restive. He had tarried long enough in Antioch; he had profited from the respite; he had refitted his army and he was now ready to march on to the Holy City.

This was something Eleonore would not tolerate. She was how deeply absorbed in her love affair with Saladin. She believed that she could happily marry him and remain in this area not far from her beloved uncle.

Louis paced up and down in their bedchamber. Eleonore lay in bed watching him, noting his lack of physical charm, comparing him with Saladin and Raymond.

‘Within a week I intend to move on,’ Louis was saying. ‘I have delayed here long enough.’

‘You were glad enough to get here.’

‘Indeed I was after all our troubles, but we have tarried long enough and must move on now.’

‘You are wrong. You should stay here.’

‘For what purpose?’

‘My uncle has explained the need to fight the infidel here.’

Louis looked weary. ‘It is something I have decided against.’

‘Why? Because you are afraid to fight? Because you are only half a man?’

He looked at her sadly. She had shown so often - and particularly of late - that she despised him.

‘You know the reason,’ he said. ‘I have come on a crusade. I do not intend to use my armies in other wars.’

Her eyes flashed. ‘Are you a king in truth?’

‘You know I am the King of France and you the Queen. It would become you to behave as such.’

Was this an implication that he knew of her adventures? She would rather boldly confess to her indiscretions than that he should discover and think she had sought to hide them.

‘It is clear to me,’ she said, ‘that you and I should never have married.’

‘Never have married! Ours was a marriage which was highly approved both in France and Aquitaine.’

‘I have much to bring you. You had something to give me. That in itself was not displeasing. But as man and woman, Louis, you must know that we are quite unsuited.’

‘As King and Queen we must agree to suit each other.’

‘Why so?’

He looked astonished. ‘How could it be otherwise?’

‘There is such a thing as divorce.’

‘Divorce! You cannot be serious. The King and Queen of France divorced!’

‘I see no reason why a marriage which is unsuitable and distasteful should be continued.’

‘Distasteful?’

‘To me … yes! I want a man for a husband not a monk. Let us have a divorce. I will marry again and you can go back to the Church. That is an admirable solution for us both.’

‘I do not think you can be speaking seriously.’

‘I am deadly serious. I have had enough of this, Louis. I want my freedom.’

‘You would give up the crown of France?’

‘It does not mean so much to me, and you, Louis, will have to give up Aquitaine.’

‘I would not have believed this possible.’

‘No, you would not. You are only half alive. Your heart is in the Church. Go back to the Church and give me my freedom.’

He was silent. He sat on a stool and stared blankly ahead of him.

‘Well?’ said Eleonore impatiently.

‘This is a matter of State,’ replied Louis. ‘I must talk of it with my ministers.’

‘Talk with whom you will, but give me my freedom. I repeat, Louis, I have had enough. It is time you and I parted.’

She lay down and closed her eyes.

Louis continued to sit staring into space.


The next day Louis summoned his counsellors and confronted them with the Queen’s proposal.

It was impossible, he was told by some. There could not possibly be a divorce.

Others thought that the Queen’s behaviour was not that expected of a Queen. It had never been. The Queen came from the South and all knew that morals in the South were less strict than those in the North. The Queen’s grandfather had been a notorious roue, and the Queen continued his practice of keeping a court of songsters and some of the songs they sang were not in the best taste.

Aquitaine was to be considered. There would be trouble there. If the King could retain the Queen’s territory then divorce might be an admirable solution. The King could then marry a docile princess, get a son and there would be no more trouble in the royal domestic circle.

Louis was distraught. She despised him but he loved her. Strange that he who had never been interested in women should have felt so strongly about one, and she his wife. When he had first seen her, young, vital, beautiful and clever, her quick mind putting his to shame, he had adored her. She had reconciled him to marriage and kingship. But he knew that lately she had despised him. She had refused to make love with him. Not that he wished to indulge in this occupation with any great frequency. But there was the need to get an heir for so far they only had little Marie. Yet she had repulsed him, and that was strange, for Eleonore in the past had revelled in the act and had often lured him to perform it more often than he would have thought of doing.

She really did despise him. There was no doubt of it and he was uncertain how to act.

Thierry Galeran, the eunuch, asked for a private interview with him, and when Louis granted it Galeran said he had come to talk of a delicate matter, and before he began, he craved the King’s indulgence if he should say anything to offend him.

Louis, who was the most tolerant of men, was surprised and asked Galeran to say what he had to without fear of giving offence.

‘It concerns the Queen, Sire.’

Louis looked distressed and Galeran hurried on. ‘It is with great grief that I must tell you this, but the Queen has not been faithful to you.’

Louis shook his head but in his heart he had known.

‘You must not make such accusations, Galeran, unless you have proof of what you say.’

‘I have proof, Sire. The Queen has behaved criminally with two men. Her uncle Raymond and the Prince Saladin.’

‘That is impossible. The Queen’s own uncle and an infidel!’

‘It has happened,’ said Galeran. ‘I can bring witnesses to support my story.’

Louis was stunned. That the Queen should have been unfaithful perhaps did not surprise him so much, but that she should have chosen to play him false with two such people was unthinkable. Her uncle and a Saracen! Had she no feeling for the proprieties of life! Her own uncle. That was incest. A Saracen - a man not of her own creed and colour!

He knew that Galeran would not have made the accusation if he could not support it. He knew too that his father had been right when he had said that Galeran was a man whom he could trust to serve him. It was true that Eleonore hated Galeran. She had made caustic comments about him. She despised eunuchs, and being headstrong and impulsive had made no effort to hide her contempt. Galeran would have no warm feelings towards her, yet there must be some truth in his accusations.