Free In a Dark Wood Wandering by Hella S. Haasse

opposite his father. “All I want is your opinion in principle.” He stopped a moment, rubbing his long, bony forefinger along his nose—a gesture which was also characteristic of Burgundy.“You are undoubtedly aware of what has been going on in Hungary. King Sigismund’s couriers have been visiting us too often recently, and their stories are too alarming to be ignored. Those messengers aren’t coming here for nothing, my lord. Actually, I have the impression that this business is being passed off too lightly at court.”
    â€œNo wonder Sigismund is uneasy—if it is true that the Turks are massing on the Hungarian border. But what do you mean to imply? Surely this would be an exceptionally ill-chosen moment for France to send an auxiliary army to Hungary.”
    â€œI do not agree with you, Monseigneur.” Jean de Nevers leaned toward his father, with both hands on his knees. “On the contrary, I am convinced that there is great enthusiasm for a crusade against the Turks now. For the last few years there has been no military undertaking of any importance. And surely there are enough men in France who are eager to demonstrate their dexterity with weapons outside the jousting field. It would be really wicked to encourage our knighthood to believe that they should be contented with dancing, playing the lute and composing love songs.” He snorted derisively and laughed. Deep in thought, Burgundy stared at his son.
    â€œIf we should be in a position to raise an army,” he said slowly, with the traces of a smile at the corners of his mouth, “presumably you do not intend to play a subordinate role.”
    â€œThen I will take the leadership upon myself. I consider that I am completely capable of it.”
    â€œNo one could accuse you of false modesty, my son,” said Burgundy ironically. “But as I have already said, I am afraid that the moment is not auspicious. It requires a good deal of trouble and expense to gather the money and materials for that kind of enterprise. I don’t believe that I can permit a claim for new taxes now—there’s a limit to everything.”
    â€œI’m convinced that almost everyone who bears a name of any consequence will respond to the summons. This matter cannot be put off for long, my lord. Sigismund’s messengers who are here at the moment will shortly be leaving. I am eager to give them a satisfactory answer to take back with them. We have to anticipate that the Hungarians could be destroyed if the Serbian army perishes at Kossovo.”
    â€œYes, yes.” Philippe nodded somewhat impatiently. “We will talk about this later at a more convenient time. Come to me tomorrow after early mass,” he said, saluting his son in farewell.
    Jean de Nevers bowed, and remained in that position until the Duke had left the room. Then he walked slowly back to the reading desk, his brow wrinkled in thought and his lower lip thrust forward. He trimmed a candle and resumed reading the letters of the Apostles, beautifully written on heavy parchment with the initial letters done in red and gold. The candles and the hearthfire cast a deep glow over the furniture, the dark carpets and the beamed ceiling.
    Queen Blanche, the widow of the King’s great grandfather, who had been dead for more than forty years, entered the lying-in chamber. She was the last descendant of the generation of the beloved and lamented Philippe the Fair who, as the first prince of the House of Valois, had now almost passed into legend. In a certain sense she was considered to be the head of the entire royal family. Although she lived in retirement in her castle at Neauphle in the province of Seine and Oise, the family listened to her advice, valued her judgment and kept her informed about everything that happened. She always attended the fetes of the royal family.
    Queen Blanche was about sixty-four years old, stately and beautiful in a way