He was not present himself. They would not have expected the great man to call without some herald warning them first; and in any case, he was one of the enemies. He had made it known that he had deeply deplored René’s arriving with his men to help the Orléannese at the time of the siege.

The visitors were received with the customary hospitality.

and while they were drinking wine in the great hall they came to the point.

The fact was that René and Isabelle were being asked to leave the Château as soon as they could conveniently do so and René must also give up his title of Duke of Lorraine. In accepting this and Isabelle’s believing herself to be her father’s heiress, they had overlooked one important point. The Salic Law prevailed in France and that meant that she could not inherit her father’s estates. The title and estates of Lorraine in truth belonged to the late Duke’s eldest nephew, Antoine Count of Vaudémont, who was the nearest male heir.

‘That is not so,’ cried Isabelle. I am my father’s daughter. He meant everything to go to me.’

‘My lady,’ was the answer, ‘the Count of Vaudémont does not agree with this. Nor, I must tell you, does the Duke of Burgundy.’

‘The Duke of Burgundy! This is not his affair.’

‘He disagrees.’

René was deeply depressed. His brief respite was over. He knew what was in Burgundy’s mind. This was punishment for supporting the Armagnacs. It was more than that. Burgundy wanted his way in Lorraine. Burgundy wanted to control the whole of France.

Isabelle’s eyes were flashing with fury. ‘You may go back and tell your masters that Lorraine is mine...ours. We will not give up one part of it.’

‘My lady, I would ask you to consider carefully...My lord Duke is determined.’

‘Go back to the Duke of Burgundy and the Count of Vaudémont,’ cried Isabelle. ‘If they want Lorraine, tell them to come and take it.’

Thus it was that the idyll was over and the battle for the estates of Lorraine began.


* * *

Theophanie shook her head over the turnabout in their affairs.

‘My lord René had no heart for it,’ she told Agnès. ‘If it had been left to him he would have handed it all back to that Vaudémont. There’s a saying, Agnès my dear, that if you want to live in peace keep friendly with Burgundy.’

‘I have no respect for a Frenchman who works against Frenchmen.’

‘It goes back a long way, my dear. The Duke’s father was murdered by the Dauphin’s men...That started it. Well, more or less, but before that the Duke of Orléans was murdered by Burgundy. It’s these family quarrels. I never did like them. If I was the Lord I’d just pick up that Burgundy and Armagnac and give them a smart smack where it hurts most.’

Agnès laughed, visualizing such nursery tactics from the Almighty.

But there was disaster in the air, she knew. She had become interested in their nation’s affairs since the coming of Joan of Arc. She liked to hear how the Maid had restored his confidence to the Dauphin. But this was of course a private quarrel—a battle for Lorraine. ‘They should amend this Salic Law,’ she said to Theophanie.

‘Of course they should,’ agreed the nurse. ‘When I think of the women in my family...’ She meant of course that of Anjou in which she had served since she was a girl. ‘Well, when I think of our women, I’ll say this, Agnès, they’d do as well in battle as any man...and bring more sense to it too if you ask me. The Lord saw it when he sent the Maid. Look what she did. What if they’d started talking about this Salic Law to her, eh?’

‘It would scarcely have applied to her,’ Agnès pointed out.

‘Salic Law,’ went on Theophanie. ‘As if the lady Isabelle hasn’t got every right to what her father left her. And what has it to do with this Burgundy? That’s what I should like to know.’

The days passed. The lady Isabelle was clearly anxious. She would go to the topmost turret and there look out for signs of René and his men returning, she hoped victorious from the battle to uphold their rights.

She did not have to wait long. The battle had been over quickly and it was decisive.

She was in the turret watching when she saw several men riding fast and making for the castle. Hurrying down she was in the courtyard before they arrived. One look at them was enough to tell her that her worst fears were realized.

‘My lady,’ gasped the leader of the band. ‘Ill tidings. We were completely overcome at Bulgnéville. We put up a brave fight but none could withstand Burgundy’s troops. They were everywhere and we were outnumbered. Vaudémont would not have succeeded without the help of the great Duke.’

Isabelle cried impatiently: ‘My lord...René...Oh God help us they have taken him. He is dead...’

‘No, no, my lady. He lives. But yes, they have taken him. He was badly wounded...but he lives...in the hands of the Burgundians.’

Isabelle closed her eyes. Theophanie was beside her. ‘There, my lady. The news is not that bad. He lives...that is what matters most. The rest we’ll sort out.’

‘A prisoner...’ murmured Isabelle. ‘Burgundy’s prisoner...’

‘The good Lord won’t let that wicked man keep a good man like Lord René long. I know that. He’ll be back, my lady. You’ll see. Here, Agnès, take my lady’s arm. Let’s get her to her chamber. This has been a great shock for her.’

Isabelle smiled wryly. ‘Oh stop treating me like one of your children, Theophanie.’

Theophanie said, ‘You’re right. You’re not one of my children. You’ll know what to do, my lady. Don’t I always say it’s the women who manage these things best?’

So they went into the castle and the soldiers were housed and fed and later on more came, with more news, news of how René had fought bravely and it was only when most of his force had been destroyed and he himself was badly wounded by an arrow on the left side of his forehead which had half blinded him, that he had allowed himself to be taken.

But accounts of his bravery could bring little solace to his family. He was a prisoner in the hands of the enemy.


* * *

Isabelle was not one to sit down and accept disaster. She was not going meekly to hand over to her cousin the estates which she considered were rightly hers.

She knew what she was going to do. She was going to raise an army and she herself would lead it against the Count de Vaudémont. What of the children? She sent a messenger to her mother the Dowager Duchess Margaret, the godmother of little Margaret, and begged her to take charge of her children while she set about releasing her husband from captivity and keeping what her father had left her.

The Dowager Duchess, as strong-minded a lady as her daughter, immediately came to the rescue. She would take over the care of the children while Isabelle set about working for her husband’s release.

Isabelle had been greatly upset by the fact that it was her own cousin who had acted in this way. They had known each other as children and she was surprised, for he had always appeared to have been amiable and reasonable and she had thought would have been a good friend to her.

It suddenly occurred to her that she would see him. Perhaps she could arouse some pity in him, some sense of honour.

Her mother was uncertain whether it was wise for her to go. She was after all placing herself in the hands of the enemy. Let someone go for her, suggested the lady Margaret. But Isabelle thought that only she could shame her cousin and was determined to make the journey herself.

Her mother knew that it would be useless to attempt to dissuade her. In her daughter’s place she herself would have done the same. They were neither of them women to cower behind the might of their husbands. It had been they who had made decisions in their families, for women such as they were invariably gained the ascendancy over their men. So Isabelle set out and in a short time was confronting her cousin.

She was pleased to see that Antoine de Vaudémont was a little ashamed of himself

‘It surprises me,’ she told him, ‘that we should be facing each other as enemies.’

‘A sad affair, I grant you.’

‘And brought about by your greed,’ Isabelle reminded him. ‘You know full well that my father wished his estates to pass to me. It was always understood.’

‘My lord of Burgundy thinks otherwise.’

‘It is not the affair of the Duke of Burgundy.’

‘He believes that the affairs of Lorraine are his.’

‘I am surprised, Antoine, that you allow yourself to be his creature. He is a traitor to France.’

‘Have care what you say, cousin. If those words were to be repeated...’

‘Oh, save your fear of that man for yourself I will tell him what I think of him if I ever have the misfortune to come face to face with him. But I have come to talk of my husband René.’

‘Alas, he suffered bitter defeat. He has recovered from his wounds though. You need have no anxiety on that score.’

‘Then we will talk of my other anxieties. I want him released.’

‘That is out of the question.’

‘Why? Have you forgotten, Antoine, that we are cousins? Our fathers were brothers. There must not be this strife between us. Release René. Forget this greedy claim of yours.’

‘My dear cousin, if I wished to release René I could not. He is not my prisoner. He is in the hands of the Duke of Burgundy.’

‘Why so! Why did you hand him over to that man?’

‘René was captured by Maréchal de Toulongeon, the commander of the forces Burgundy sent to Bulgnéville.’

Isabelle felt limp with dismay.

‘Then what can I do?’