Ardennia: The Unlikely Story of Cinderella's Prince
Chapter 11

A Moment of Weakness

The rains made the roads muddy the next morning and as a result the going was slow. The horses clopped along under an overcast sky, and the mood of the expedition was somber and spirits were low not only because of the foul weather, but because the quest was not going exactly as planned. Guy had little to say, Henry had less. Even Adele seemed oppressed by the weather and the mood of the men. Monotonously, they plodded along until they came upon a family whose wagon was mired up to its axles in mud.

“Friends, can you help us?” said the man of the family.

“You are in deep, but we can try,” answered Guy.

Henry and Guy dismounted, walked through the knee-deep mud pit and joined the man in trying to push the wagon out of the mire as the man’s pregnant wife worked the reins of their nag.

“How far along is she?” asked Guy as he grunted with effort.

“All the way, she just had a contraction,” said the man.

“Are you sure?” Guy asked.

“I’m sure. . . curse this mud,” said the man.

“It’s not the mud you should be cursing, it’s your stupidity for bringing your wife on the road in her condition,” said Guy.

“I had little choice. We have to eat and to do that I need to work and to get work I need to get to Amiens – a village in need of a wheelwright,” said the man.

“It’s no good. The wagon won’t move,” said Henry.

“Forget the wagon, we have bigger problems. This man’s wife has gone into labor,” said Guy, ceasing to push the wagon.

“In labor,” echoed Henry, suspending his efforts as well.

“Yes,” said Guy.

“What are we going to do?” asked Henry.

“I saw some hyssop a little ways back. It has spiky blue flowers. Go fetch me some,” said Guy.

Henry remounted and rode back in search of the hyssop. Meanwhile Guy got his drinking cup, filled it half full with wine, walked up to the woman and told her she was going to be fine.

“I’ll be fine when this baby is born and we get to Amiens,” she said.

“I don’t know if I can help you get to Amiens, but I can help you with your birthing,” said Guy.

“Are you a physician?” asked the woman.

“No, but I’ve had experience with this kind of thing and am the next best thing to a doctor or a midwife,” Guy said.

“What luck,” said the woman’s husband.

“Now, we’re going to need a pillow, a blanket, a soft woolen thread and a swaddle. Can you provide that for me?” Guy asked the man.

“I think I have all of that in the back of the wagon,” said the man.

“Good,” said Guy.

“Oohhhh!” moaned the woman.

“Another contraction?” asked Guy.

“Yes, a big one and it just broke my water,” said the woman.

“That’s good, you are showing signs of a quick birth,” said Guy.

“That’s hereditary, my mother had wide hips and gave birth quickly too,” said the woman.

“So it shall be with you, God willing,” said Guy.

“I found the swaddle and spool of thread!” shouted the man.

“Good, you are doing wonderfully,” said Guy to the husband of the woman in labor.

“Ah, and here is the blanket and pillow,” said the man.

“Lay the blanket out on the grass with the pillow and swaddle,” said Guy, helping the woman to come down from the wagon and settling her on the blanket.

“Are we going to do it here on the blanket?” asked the woman.

“Yes, you and I together,” said Guy.

As Guy said this Henry rode up with the hyssop and brandished it.

“Is this it?” asked Henry.

“Yes. Hand it over,” instructed Guy.

Henry handed him the hyssop and Guy crushed a few of the stems and mixed them with the wine. He gave the cup to the woman and told her to drink the concoction. She did.

“Now what?” asked Henry.

“We wait for more contractions,” said Guy.

“Okay, while we’re waiting can you tell me how you know so much about delivering babies?” Henry asked.

Guy told him a long story about a woman he once knew – very little of it pertaining to Henry’s question; but concluding with the fact that the woman had been a midwife. At the end of the story the wheelwright’s wife cried out that she thought the baby was coming. Guy helped her to turn over onto her stomach and draw up her knees as far as possible to her head while placing the pillow under her stomach.

“Push,” he said.

“She pushed. The baby emerged. Guy tied off the umbilical cord with the soft woolen thread, cut it with his knife and swaddled the baby. Some peasants came along and helped push the wagon out of the mire. The wheelwright, his wife and the newborn baby girl set off for Amiens. Henry and Guy resumed the road to the residence of the Viscount of Ponthieu, and the sun broke through the clouds.

Beneath that sun the road dried out and Henry and Guy were able to reach the residence of the Viscount of Ponthieu by midafternoon. Henry got as far as having the Viscount’s daughter try on the shoe but the shoe didn’t fit, so Henry and Guy left Pontieu and made for the manor of the Viscount of Laonnois; overnighting on the shores of the River Somme en route.

When they reached the manor of the Viscount of Laonnois, Henry once more donned his waistcoat and pulled on a rope that rang a bell. He was greeted by none other than Pierre of Laonnois, the son of the Viscount of Laonnois and the very same rake from whom Henry had rescued the enigmatic woman from at the masquerade ball.

“You!” said Pierre.

“You!” exclaimed Henry.

“Have you come to bruise my wrist again,” said Pierre with malice.

“No, but I will if I have to,” said Henry.

“Then why are you here?” asked Pierre.

“As a matter of courtesy,” said Henry, thinking fast because it was obvious now that the daughter of the Viscount of Laonnois was not the lady he was seeking.

“Courtesy?” said Pierre.

“Yes, since I was passing through I thought it only proper that I should give my regards to your father,” said Henry.

“Consider it done, then. I will pass along your regards,” said Pierre stiffly.

“Very well, good day,” said Henry.

“Fare thee ill,” said Pierre.

“What did you say?” said Henry with just the right amount of ire.

“Fare thee well,” said Pierre.

Henry about-faced and returned to Guy as Pierre watched and eventually closed the door.

“No luck,” said Guy.

“No luck. Let us pay a visit to the daughter of the Marquis of Picardy,” said Prince Henry.

They set off for the palace of the Marquis of Picardy, making good time and speculating upon the possibility that the Marquis’ daughter was the owner of the slipper.

“It only makes sense,” said Guy.

“What only makes sense?” asked Henry.

“That your enigmatic lady is the daughter of the grandest noble in Picardy,” said Guy.

“That does not necessarily follow, it is more wishful thinking than anything,” said Henry.

“Perhaps so, for I would wish this quest to end soon and happily,” said Guy.

“Me too,” said Henry.

They rode on toward the palace, which was located in the most westward part of Picardy and situated on a high bluff overlooking the English Channel. Presently they encountered three travelers from England who had just landed on the shore ofthe continent. They were shorn of most of their hair, barefoot and dressed in coarse tunics.

“Hail strangers,” said the woman among them.

“Greetings,” said Guy and Henry in unison.

“I am Mary and this is Peter and Paul. We are pilgrims on our way to Rome,” she said.

“I am Henry,” said Henry.

“I am Sir Guy of Lucent,” said Guy.

“We are pleased to meet you. Can you tell us if this road leads to the Lombard Way,” asked Mary.

“The Lombard Way is at least a two week journey from here, but you are heading in the right direction. Just keep going east,” Guy said.

“Thank you, kind knight, may God bless you,” said Peter.

“God bless you, all three of you,” said Guy.

“He has already, many times,” said Paul.

“Yes, we have all been blessed with wealth, love and good health,” said Mary.

“But most important we have been blessed with revelation, which is why you see us here as we are,” said Peter.

“I have always admired people like you who have seen the light; pilgrims walking barefoot for hundreds of leagues, their hearts full of piety,” said Guy.

“Yes, our hearts are filled with piety. We’ve just been talking about that,” said Paul.

“Arguing about that would be a more accurate description,” said Mary.

“Arguing?” said Henry.

“Yes,” said Paul.

“Arguing about what?” asked Henry.

“About which of us is the most pious,” said Peter.

“I wonder if you could help settle the matter for us,” said Mary.

“You’d be doing us a great favor if you did, we are quite deadlocked and the argument has gotten heated and it’s a long way to Rome,” said Paul. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNʘᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“I guess we could help you out,” said Guy.

“Yes, who wants to give testimony first?” asked Henry.

“I will,” said Paul.

“Go ahead,” said Guy.

“Though we all have given up our wealth and made pilgrimages to many shrines in our home country of England, I have made the most pilgrimages and seen more holy relics than Peter and Mary put together.”

“What holy relics have you seen,” asked Henry.

“Where do I begin? I saw the holy gold and garnet cross of St. Cuthbert, two molars of St. John of Beverly, the comb of the Abbess of Ely, a rib of St Sebbi, the shroud of St Guthlac of Crowland, a leg bone of Edward the Martyr, the –”

“That will do. Mary; your turn,” said Guy.

“I stake my argument on what I have sacrificed, not on the number of relics I’ve seen. Of the three of us, I was by far the wealthiest and I gave every farthing away to charitable works. I was also a great beauty and as you can see I no longer have a vain bone in my body. Lastly, I used to love reading books but the only book I will read now is the book.”

“Impressive. Peter, your turn,” said Henry.

“Both Mary and Paul make strong cases for themselves, but nothing trumps prayer and I pray for hours on end – whether it be while walking barefoot on the way to Rome or sequestered in a small cell.”

“Just because you pray your life away doesn’t mean you’re the most pious of us,” said Mary.

“And just because you gave up cosmetics, books and the money your husband left you doesn’t mean you are the most pious,” said Peter.

“I agree with both of you so I guess that means I am the most pious,” said Paul.

“That’s not up to you,” said Mary: “Sir Guy?”

Guy rubbed his chin as if he was really deliberating on who was the most pious of them all.

“Well, Sir Guy,” said Peter.

“I’d say you’re deadlocked for a good reason. You are all just so pious,” said Guy.

“That doesn’t help at all,” said Mary.

“No it doesn’t,” said Paul: “Henry?”

“I agree with Sir Guy,” said Henry.

“Well this has been a big waste of time,” said Mary, putting her hands on her hips.

“If I wasn’t so pious I’d tell them what I think of their non-decision,” added Paul.

“Me too,” agreed Peter.

“I’m sorry, but our non-decision stands, doesn’t it Henry?” said Guy,

“It does,” said Henry.

With that Peter, Paul and Mary stomped off on their way to Rome and renewed their debate on who was the most pious. Henry and Guy continued down along the banks of the River Somme until they came to its mouth on the English Channel. They were invigorated by the salt air and buoyed by the possibility that, as they had reached land’s end, they also may be about to reach the end of their quest. They took the coast road that climbed gradually in elevation until they reached the top of a bluff that was green and windswept, and gave them a stunning view of the sea. Soon they arrived at the Marquis’ stately palace and entered the grounds through an ornate gateway that was manned by ceremonial guards dressed in uniforms with braids and a lot of brass buttons. One of the guards inquired as to who they were and bowed deeply when Prince Henry identified himself. This guard escorted Henry to the palace proper and announced his arrival. In the blink of an eye the Marquis appeared, welcomed Henry warmly and invited him and Guy – who the Marquis had noticed holding the palfreys and pack mule – to dine with him and his family. Henry could not help but accept the kind invitation. The table was set with alacrity and in no time Prince Henry and Sir Guy were seated at a long dining table that was overburdened with delectable foodstuffs. With the Marquis at one end of the table and the Marquise at the other end and Henry and Guy side by side in the middle; all that was missing was the Marquis’ daughter, Dominique.

But she soon made her grand entrance and she lit up the room. She was wearing a satin gown that showed off her hourglass figure to great effect and was bedecked with glittering jewelry. And she was beautiful; she had high cheekbones, a petite nose, fulsome lips, exquisite eyebrows and a flawless chin.

It was her, thought Henry; it has to be. He was elated as he watched her glide over to her chair and curtsy. He stood up and bowed, sat back down and locked eyes with her. It was her. He had found her. But no, what was that? It was a beauty mark just above the left corner of her upper lip; a very alluring beauty mark but a beauty mark nonetheless.

“Prince Henry, what a pleasure it is to meet you at last,” Dominique said.

“The pleasure is all mine,” said Henry unsteadily.

“I was so disappointed when we didn’t have the opportunity to dance at the masquerade ball, but your visit more than makes up for it,” she said.

“Then it makes my long journey worth the time and trouble,” Henry said.

“Yes, it is a long journey, I can testify to that,” she said a little reproachfully.

“But not too long to keep two people apart if they are interested in each other,” said the Marquis.

“No, not at all; tell us, have you and Sir Guy been enjoying your outing?” asked the Marquise

“Yes, for the most part,” said Henry.

“Good, but I’m surprised you don’t have a larger entourage,” the Marquis said.

“Oh, I like to travel light and keep a low profile,” said Henry.

“Well you have done that; you’ve completely surprised us,” the Marquise said.

“But what a lovely surprise,” said Dominique.

“Yes, lovely,” said the Marquis, raising his glass and toasting to Henry’s surprise visit.

Everyone else raised their glass to the toast and took a drink.

“Shall we dig in?” said the Marquise gaily.

“Yes, I love nothing better than digging in,” said Guy.

They dug in, but in the most delicate and refined fashion, and Henry couldn’t help comparing Dominique’s immaculate table manners to Lenore’s; or her looks and polite conversation for that matter. Marrying this ravishing beauty wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, he thought in a moment of weakness; a moment when he despaired of ever finding the owner of the slipper – the enigmatic lady who had left him so abruptly at the stroke of midnight with no clue of who she was. He took a bite of his truffle and the weakness receded, but how far?

“Prince Henry, how long can we expect you to stay with us,” asked Dominique.

“Stay with you, I hadn’t thought of staying with you,” said Henry.

“Oh but you must, mustn’t he, father,” said Dominique.

“Of course, our palace is your palace,” said the Marquis.

“One night then,” said Henry.

“One night; well we shall see about that,” said the Marquise.

“Yes, maybe we can find a way to entice you to stay longer,” said Dominique with beckoning eyes.

“We have tired ourselves out during our sojourn. Perhaps a few days here would restore us,” suggested Guy to Henry.

“He speaks sense,” said the Marquis.

“We shall have to see,” said Henry.

“Alright, let’s leave it at that for now and enjoy this repast,” said the Marquis.

After the splendid meal a harp was brought out and Dominique plucked its strings as she sang. Her voice was angelic and the songs were mostly about love and tragedy. One of the songs was particularly tragic; it was about Dido – the Queen of Carthage – killing herself after Aeneas left her to fulfill his fate and found Rome. This song tugged at Henry’s heart, and he didn’t know whether it made him want to leave immediately or never leave at all.

Everyone applauded after she finished, and afterward Henry and Guy were led to their room by the Marquise. As soon as she left them alone Guy fell over backwards on his bed and let out a burp.

“What a feast. I could hardly hold that burp in,” Guy said.

“You did well not to burp, we are back in polite society,” said Henry.

“I’ll say; and is that Dominique polite,” said Guy.

“Yes, too bad she has a beauty mark,” said Henry.

“Yes, too bad. However, you might want to rethink the whole enigmatic lady thing. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.”

“I didn’t come this far to give up,” Henry said.

“You aren’t giving up, you’re just adding one beauty mark into the bargain,” Guy said.

“You’re not doing a very good job helping me to steel my resolve.”

“That’s because I always thought this quest was a little on the nutty side. I don’t see how it can end any better than you marrying Dominique,” Guy said.

“You may be right, but my heart really is set on another and if I have to spend the rest of my life searching for her, so be it.”

“You mean the rest of our lives,” said Guy.

The next morning, after breakfast Guy and Henry – with regret – took their leave of the palace and the good food and the soft beds and Dominique.

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