With that he turned and spread his cloak over the straw pallet so that the fur might be against them rather than the harsh straw.He offered his hand to Alienor and seated her there, then sat beside her and pulled her against his side.Dagobert eased the warm cloak over her and Alienor pulled up her knees to ward off the chill.
“Cold feet?”
When Alienor nodded, Dagobert pulled her feet into his lap and rubbed them with his left hand until they tingled.
“You are stalling, my lord,” she teased when his hand stilled.
“I am deciding where to begin.”He leaned back against the wall.Alienor watched him frown for a moment before his gaze met hers and he began his tale.
His voice was low as he told her of a race of kings who had ruled France centuries past in the north, when the tribes of the Franks had stretched eastward into the lands of the German princes and southward beyond the palaces of the popes.Priest-kings they were, their bloodline divinely chosen.Their powers were beyond the ordinary and widely known, their mysterious link to Christ was hinted by those who knew the way of things.Alienor leaned against Dagobert, wondering where this fantastic tale might lead.
Soon enough, his story took an unexpected turn, for Dagobert spoke of the assassination of a king of this line.The regicide was committed under the orders of the king’s own steward, the manager of the king’s household.Also killed were the children of the king, all in one afternoon in the forest.They were all murdered, except the youngest son of the king.Secretly, the boy was brought to Rhedae, the home of his mother.Alienor recognized the name of the ancient ruins near her own home.
Dagobert explained then how the stewards had taken possession of the crown in the absence of the rightful king.They had placed it upon the brow of one of their own within a generation, even while the rightful heir grew to manhood amongst his mother’s family.Dagobert’s voice dropped lower as he recited a long list of battles over the centuries, attacks launched from Anjou, Lorraine, Languedoc, all of which had failed, many of which had resulted in exiles, all of which Dagobert claimed had been attempts to regain the crown by these divinely appointed yet ousted kings.
Aye, the lost kings of Rhedae were real.
It was with evident satisfaction that he told her of the betrayal of the usurpers some three centuries past.Yet another line of wrongful kings had seized the crown and held it ever since.The king who held them captive was of this line.Dagobert spoke of yet more battles and his voice grew sad as his tale neared their own time.His gaze fixed in the distance as he named alliances, towns, individuals, many of which sounded familiar even to Alienor’s ears.
When Dagobert mentioned his father, Alienor knew the truth, his words confirming her fears.Pledged to the fight of regaining his legacy, just like his father before him and so back across the span of years, Alzeu de Pereille had witnessed the invasion of his beloved Languedoc and the wholesale slaughter of those around him.Though the attack was purportedly to eliminate the Cathar sect, ’twas clear to those in Dagobert’s family that they were the hunted prey.
“I thought the lost kings was but a tale told to children.”
Dagobert smiled sadly.“Aye, ’tis far more difficult to find the source of a child’s tale than a man who openly declares himself before his time.”He paused and frowned at the floor, stroking her shoulder with his thumb.“’Tis perhaps why they killed so many these last years.”
Alienor nodded and frowned herself.“I always wondered why the crusade continued.”
Dagobert’s grip tightened briefly on her shoulder.“We were pledged to the cause of the Roman church in days long past and they to ours,” he said and she heard his tone harden.“’Twas thus until they chose to betray our line.”
Alienor pulled back in surprise to meet his knowing gaze.“Truly?”
“’Twas the pope who offered the steward the crown as reward for killing the king,” Dagobert said.Alienor fell against him in dismay at such wickedness.“’Twas another pope,” he added softly a moment later, “who called for the crusade against Languedoc.”
“But why?”
“There are many theories, but I suspect ’twas because we did not bend so readily.”
“Aye, you are a stubborn man, to be sure,” she teased, wanting to lighten his mood.
Dagobert smiled and hugged her briefly, pressing a kiss against her brow.She felt his fingers curve gently over her belly once more.
“Tell me about your father,” she prompted, guessing the path his thoughts had taken.
Dagobert cleared his throat.“He was a fine man, noble and strong with a vision true.’Tis more than fifteen years since he died on the field near La Bessede and I still miss him, each and every day.”
“Guibert told me of that attack.”
“Such viciousness does not make a pretty tale.”
Alienor nodded agreement, recalling Guibert’s disgust at what had been done to the inhabitants of the fortress by the king’s attacking force.It had been days later when Guibert and his company of warriors had arrived.There had been naught they could do but bury the numerous dead.She shivered slightly in recollection of his dismay and Dagobert’s arm tightened around her.
“I saw the carnage with my own eyes, Alienor.”His voice wavered ever so slightly as he spoke.“For I was one of the few of our forces who left the field alive that day.”He shook his head, lost in his own memories.“’Twas not my choice, but my father would have it no other way.”
Dagobert fell silent and she did not prompt him, aware of his pain as he remembered his father’s death.Wanting to comfort him somehow, Alienor nestled closer, reaching up to stroke the uncompromising line of his jaw.
He captured her hand almost absently in his, then realizing what he had done, he opened his fingers slowly and examined her smaller hand trapped within.His thumb ran over her palm in a smooth caress before he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it, his composure restored when he began to speak again.
“He knighted me on the field,” he confessed, not without a trace of amazement.“I was but twelve and green as new grass when he took his fatal blow.I was on my knees and knighted, pledged to the fight before I realized how badly he was injured.Then we stood together amidst the fray.His knights surrounded us and protected us.”Dagobert smiled softly.“Eustache was there, young and brash, and my father leaned on my shoulder, bleeding, demanding that I commit to the family cause.He made me swear it.”
