“Our king!” Philippa hissed at him. “Do you think I give a bloody damn about the French king? It is Henry Tudor who matters!”
“When?” he said.
“I don’t know,” she replied.
“Where?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she answered.
“Who are the assassins?” He was looking very exasperated.
“I don’t know,” she told him for the third time.
“God’s blood, woman!” he roared, causing those about them to stare. He lowered his voice. “There is a plot against the king, but you don’t know who, or where, or when, or even why. Are you mad then, Philippa? Has the heat of this dusty and damnable French countryside finally affected your wits?” He appeared even more irritable now.
“Please, Crispin, not here,” Philippa pleaded with her husband. “Let us go back to our own pavilion, and I will tell you what I heard.”
Almost dragging his wife by her arm, the earl of Witton made his way to where their horses were waiting. He boosted Philippa into her saddle and climbed aboard his own mount. Together they made their way back to the English encampment. The wind was rising again, and the sky was growing darker with the dust swirling up into the atmosphere. Some of the smaller tents were beginning to pull loose from their pegs and collapse onto the ground. They could hear the shouts of the French, frantic to keep their camp from blowing away entirely. Ahead of them they could see Queen Katherine’s open litter with its gilt columns. Its cloth of gold curtains with their red satin trim were blowing wildly in the winds. The queen was huddled inside, a scarf drawn about her face to protect herself from the fine stinging dust.
Crispin and Philippa finally reached the comparative safety of their own tent. While it was swaying in the wind, the earl could see the pegs holding it to the earth were planted firmly. They dismounted, and he said to Peter, his serving man, “Bring the horses inside the tent. This is a nasty blow, and I don’t think it will end soon.”
Peter nodded. “Aye, milord. I agree.”
Inside, the earl led his wife past the partition that served to divide the tent, waving Lucy away for the moment. He sat in one of the two chairs and pointed to the other. “Sit down,” he said to Philippa, “and explain yourself to me, madame. I go to find you among the queen’s ladies, only to be told you have gone off with my cousin. Surely you realize that Guy-Paul is not a man to be trusted. He was a sly boy, and I saw immediately upon our renewing our acquaintance that he had not changed. What the hell were you doing with him, Philippa?”
“You’re jealous!” she said, astounded to hear herself voicing the words. Why on earth would he be jealous? She was his wife, of course, but certainly he understood that she had an honorable nature, that she would never betray him. Why should he feel so strongly about her being with his cousin?
“Answer the question, madame,” the earl said.
“King Francois saw me at the queen’s banquet. He admired me. He wished to meet me. I saw no harm in it,” Philippa explained.
“You saw no harm in being served up like a lamb to that great lecher?” the earl shouted at her. “What happened between you two?” he demanded. His eyes were cold.
“Nothing happened!” Philippa shouted back, enraged that he should doubt her. “How dare you impugn my honor, Crispin? I am your wife and not some court whore!”
“A woman alone with that king stands in danger of losing her good name, madame. And it is my name, damnit! Where was my cousin while you met Francois de Valois? And who else was there, or were you alone with that seducer of women?”
“Your cousin left me with the French king,” Philippa said coldly. “The little turd scuttled away like the dung beetle he is. Were it not for the king’s servant, I should have had my good name compromised, Crispin. I hope you will speak to Guy-Paul about his less than chivalrous behavior. I know that I shall never acknowledge his existence again. Now if you are through making certain that your possession was not damaged or used by another, I shall tell you what I overheard as I was attempting to make my way through the French camp and back here.”
God’s blood! the earl thought irritably. Was that what she thought? That he considered her only his possession ? Did she think he could make love to her the way he did and have no feelings for her? He gritted his teeth. “My concern was only for you, little one. I could not find you, nor could I find that bastard with whom I share blood. I ... I ... never mind! Tell me about this alleged plot you think you overheard.”
“There is nothing wrong with my hearing, Crispin,” Philippa snapped. “As I was desperately attempting to find my way back to the jousting field I was caught in one of these dust storms that we have been having recently. It was then I heard them, and what I heard froze my blood in my veins. There were three of them. From what they said I believe them to be in the service of the dowager queen Louise of Savoy. The largest of the trio is Pierre. Another is Michel. The third was not named, and he remained silent. They spoke of murdering King Henry, the queen, and the cardinal.”
“To what purpose?” he wondered aloud.
“They said they had compatriots in England who would steal Princess Mary away from her keepers and bring her to France. Once here her marriage to the Dauphin would be celebrated.”
“And England would be France’s,” the earl finished.
“They said not even the pope would stop it,” Philippa continued.
“Nay, he would have no grounds, the betrothal having been agreed upon by both Henry Tudor and Francois de Valois,” the earl remarked.
“And they said our great families would not oppose them,” she told him.
“Some would, and look for another English heir. Others would side with France because they had the princess. It would be civil war, Philippa.” He shook his head. “I thought we were past that when the differences between Lancaster and York were settled. The question of England’s throne has been raised before. When Duke William of Normandy overcame the last of the Saxon rulers, Harold. When Stephen and Matilda fought each other for years. The wars between the roses of Lancaster and York.” He sighed. Then he said, “What else did you overhear?”
“They mean to do it sometime when they are all together, and they said that the salamander would be the sign,” Philippa replied.
