Free The Rebel Princess by Judith Koll Healey

the garments on the bed and, with his usual flawless taste, selected a deep, smoky blue wool tunic, gray hose, and an overcloak of the same lined in silver silk. Not being royal, he could not the wear the scarlet fabric made from kermes dye. But with such an attire, and his own regal bearing, he had no need of it to impress the court. “And take their measure, so to speak.” He struggled with the closings on his tunic andFrancis leaped to aid him. My one good hand would have been of little assistance, I thought ruefully.
    “And engage their trust?” I cocked my head to one side and he bent to stroke my cheek as he passed me by. “They must be dense as pigs not to see that motive.”
    “Ah, but it’s no matter if they see it or not. They had no choice but to travel with me. After all I, too, am on the pope’s own business.” He picked up his sword, dropped on the floor in his earlier haste to bed me, and buckled it on, casting an amused glance in my direction. “And once we had joined, and conversed, I sent a courier on to Philippe with the knowledge I had gleaned, and some suggestions about how to handle these two minions of God who come seeking silver to make war.”
    “What sort of man is this Arnaud Amaury?” I rose now, moving toward my large garderobe to choose a gown, and my question appeared casual. “He has certainly made no friend of my brother, with his constant messengers begging for arms and men. Philippe is not happy to have him here.”
    William turned slowly toward me and caught my arm as I passed him. His gesture took me by surprise, as did his next words. “The abbot of Cîteaux? The venerable successor to the saintly Bernard? The former abbot of Fontfroide Abbey? Why, sweetheart, I think you will find he is the very model of the Prince of Darkness himself.”
    I was arrested in mid-motion. My face turned toward him and I knew my astonishment was written there. It was the controlled violence in his voice that startled me.
    “Do you say so?” I made an effort to keep my voice unconcerned. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Francis sitting upright, perfectly still, as one might watch a storm roll over a hill on the southern moors of Henry’s island. His face betrayed a surprise that told me he was startled by the vehemence of his master’s response.
    William recovered his composure as quickly as he had lost it. He shrugged, donning his cloak. He spoke in measured tones as he fussedwith the closing of it. “Perhaps I should not speak so of God’s representative, but there it is.” He paused for a moment, then continued.
    “Amaury was a knight and fighter when he was young, quite a good one it is said. Now he is known as a warrior of words, a heretic-fighter in the south where the great debates have been raging between the bishops and those who defend the new religion. Amaury has burning religious fervor, some say a bit too much for a priest. He is capable of killing anybody to defend his idea of God. Harsh words. No compassion. No mercy. And a swift sword promised to those who disagree with his view. But I should not predispose you.” He finished with the clasp on his cloak, and brushed his hands together, like Pontius Pilate. “Meet him and judge for yourself. Then tell me what you think.”
    “How could you predispose me when you express such neutral views on the man?” My tone was light, but I turned back to my gowns to hide the expression on my face. I did not want him to see that I had more than a casual interest in his words. “By all the saints, I care little to meet this person, abbot or not…Although, on the other side of the coin, perhaps I should want to meet someone who inspires a show of emotion from one usually so controlled.”
    “You think it so?” William was suddenly at my side, his arm around me. “Come, give us a kiss, and I’ll show you my control.” And he planted his mouth on mine without waiting for my acquiescence, his arm stealing around