The house of the Dauphin of Agincourt was rife with corruption and debauchery. Know all at the outset that never in French history was one more decadent than this.
In France, King Henry's men languished in Agincourt castle prison.
Their humiliation at the hands of the French was ceaseless. English Knights of higher order found themselves visited for the sole purpose of the French Court's entertainment. French men, some of them, lost interest in these Anglican nobles who soon found themselves on display more frequently for the French Court's curious women.
Englishmen with no French words available to their tongues had begun giving the parade of frequent Lady visitors names. Knights and English nobles chiding each other on the repeated visitations of Laurette, Regine, Angeline, Felicite accompanied by their giggling handmaidens: there for the sole purpose of seeing the English 'barbarians'. Safely isolated from them like exotic animals in cages the Englishmen's solidity, stature, strength and manliness contrasted widely from the effeminate men to which French Aristocratic women were accustomed. Unrestricted by mores or modesty, French court women became brazenly flirtatious with the prisoners from the distance of incarceration behind stone and iron.
With much protestation and calamity, shaking of bars and threats to the guards in the pitch darkness lit only by a French soldiers torch: one English knight of high order was dragged from his cell of eight and placed in irons to be taken away. Rumor raced through the dungeon that they were to be chained and flailed one after the other for indiscretion.
The 'unfortunate' English noble returned to the population next morning with fantastic tales of intrigue at the hands of a Lady of the Court; one of their frequent visitors. This churned a tempest within the hearts of many Knights.
To these ends, William felt dismay. To hold his love of Cecelia on a certain pedestal and see English manhood subjected to willful desire of the flesh and submit gleefully grated at his sense of honor. William perished the hopeful temptation others had embraced by banishing these thoughts from his mind until he himself was singled out for these attentions.
A red-haired fair skinned, tall and angular Lady of the Dauphin's Court had come accompanied by her handmaiden to linger at his cell. No one had seen her before and she , being new to the debauchery and never observed by captive knights of the chamber , ignored the leering jests with haughty dismissal. The Lady followed by a vacant handmaiden came directly to the cell of Sir William of Edenbridge and made a gesture to the guard.
"Le non, ceci est celui que je veux" while her handmaiden's eyes cast down the red-haired Lady of the Dauphin's Court stared at William without expression and instructed, "Ayez-le amené à mes chambres ce soir"
.......................Have him brought to my chambers tonight......................
The women departed quickly as they had come. Within the resultant brotherhood of boasting chide that men employ when discussing women in their own male company William sensed guilty compromise. The distant altar of his love for Cecelia was becoming a difficult thing to worship. The warmth of companionship he had lacked for months had been kindled with this one eye-opening moment leaving William of Edenbridge both heartsick and enthralled . Yet through it all he determined the occasion of this midnight meeting whatever it entailed, would carry the possibility of release from bondage, the proposition for release, a petition initialized or a message forwarded to his own English court. These would necessitate the willing cooperation of those he was soon to meet. So he sat in the darkness of his cell listening to the restless sleeping of his comrades waiting and plotting the path to his freedom.
At an appointed hour a jailer summoned him in the pitch of night where, filthy and unkempt, he was taken under guard of arms through the unfamiliar maze of stone and mortar that made up the French palace. Through small hallways and steps meant for servants he was turned over to houseguards and escorted above to the entrance of a chamber. The French soldiers knocked and turned away as to not look within. That same door was opened by a handmaiden he'd seen earlier. William entered. The door was closed and locked behind him.
William had been once familiar with the machinations of a Lady's bedchamber. His own true love's was expansive, elaborate and for all the effrontery and dignity of the court William had found Cecelia's invitations, frequent and sensual within her bedchamber, to be irresistible having spent many nights in her arms until the birds of the morning chased him away. In comparison to his 'soldiers' quarters, for he had lived a Spartan existence free from accoutrements, a Ladys bedchamber was elaborate, inclusive, filled with the whims and fancy of its owner, splendidly crowned in luxury. But true to the French, this Lady's was an opulent candle lit paradise of femininity.
An iron wrought tub it deep basin standing on carpet filled to its brim with steaming water, beside a table with sponges, soaps and colored bottles waited before him. He was led to it where the Lady who had confronted him in the cellars below sat in a lounge garbed in Chinese silken robes; her red hair undone and spilling across white shoulders. He understood no French.
" nettoyez cet Anglais, Marie.." she instructed her girl. He was to be cleaned. The handmaiden undid the buttons of his filthy tunic. There were no words for him to say. These were women. He was powerless. Standing in the first warm water he'd felt since summer in England, he submitted to the girls sponging until every last blot of war was wiped away, almost dizzy from her gentle patient touch. Toweled from head to toe, he stood as the girl held it before him, the strawberry haired Royal appraising him from her seat nearby. She stood and came to him.
The Lady's hands were soon tracing his bruises and the marks of battle that creased his shoulder, his muscled chest, the hard line of his chin and his scarred face. It melted him. The days, weeks, months of hardship taken away by this creature in mere moments by her touch controlled William and soon her eyes on his brought every attention to the feminine beauty of these two women. It was becoming clear this handmaiden was no servant but a willing participant and partner.
"Je m'appelle Yvette, Anglais" the Lady whispered. This he understood,"'Williame,"she repeated his name.
