Free The Prince and the Pilgrim by Mary Stewart

them.

9
    If Alice had been able to hear what Queen Clotilda was saying to the duke, she would have understood more clearly why the young prince was so closely guarded, even in his own home.
    “God and His saints only know for how many years we will be able to welcome pilgrims to Tours. As you know, Duke, the land north of the river is in the hands of my son Childebert, so the road you took on your way along the valley, and the monastery where you lodged last night, belong to him.”
    “Indeed. And we travelled in safety and comfort. What reason is there to think that he might seek to prevent the pilgrimages? And – with your leave, madam – to forgo the revenue they bring him? He is Christian, is he not? I was led to believe –”
    “Oh, yes. When my lord King Clovis was received into Holy Church, my sons were baptised also, and a great number of our fighting men with them.” A twist of a smile. “But our countrymen are warriors first and Christians second.”
    “But while you keep your state here in Tours, madam, your sons will surely maintain the shrine and the pilgrim roads as you and your husband planned?”
    “While I live, yes, perhaps. But with Burgundy forever baying on our thresholds, who knows which of the kings, my sons, will survive the next campaign? Prince Theudovald is well grown, and clever, yes, and I have seen to it that he is devout, but he is not yet seven years old, and already the Burgundians are making threatening gestures along our eastern borders.”
    The duke hesitated, and the queen, with another of her wry smiles, gave a sharp little nod.
    “You are remembering that I myself am from Burgundy? Rest easy, Duke; I had no love for my uncle Sigismund, and though I was used in my marriage as a pawn in his game of power, I did not stay a pawn – save in God’s hands, and for God’s holy purpose.”
    “Straight to the eighth square, and mate?” said the duke, smiling, and she laughed.
    “Yes, crowned queen, and a Frankish queen, in name and spirit! If my lord Clovis had lived, he would have moved one day against Burgundy, whatever that time-server in Rome had to say to the matter. And I would have said no word to prevent him. But he is dead, and my sons, alas, quarrel among themselves, so Burgundy may see his chance all too soon.”
    “Even so, could Burgundy – alone, for I doubt very much if the emperor would risk an alliance – raise the kind of army that could stand against the full might of the Frankish kingdoms? For, surely, in face of such a threat, your sons’ differences would be forgotten, and a united Frankish army would take the field?”
    “That is what I pray for.”
    “And work for, madam?”
    “And work for.” This time the smile was grim. “So I move between my sons’ capitals, and – I make no secret of it – I still have friends near the Burgundian court who keep me informed. For old times’ sake –” the words were said mockingly, but the duke thought they were sincere – “I keep my own palace here, near St Martin’s shrine, and the monastery that he founded, the first in Gaul, and the holiest. So Childebert sits in Paris, while I watch his border here, and Chlodomer waits in Orleans for Godomar of Burgundy to move. As long as I am here …” She lifted her shoulders again in a shrug, and let the sentence die.
    “I cannot believe,” said Duke Ansirus courteously, “that such a queen will not succeed in anything she sets out to accomplish.”
    “Hah!” It was a disconcerting bark of laughter. No fool, the old queen, thought Ansirus. She knows as well as I do that those sons of hers, skin-deep Christians at best, will, given the least excuse, tear the country apart as surely as hungry wolves tear a carcase. Well, let us hope, for her sake and young Theudovald’s – and more than that, for the sake of Britain and the fragile peace that the High King Arthur keeps there – that Chlodomer stays alive long enough to see his sons grown and his