West of France, 13th century...
The Queen awakened to something soft on her face. The candles had burnt out and it was still dark in the room so she could not think for the moment what it was. Only a faint red glow in the huge stone fireplace indicated the vague shapes in the room high up in the castle of Chinon. Before her eyes could adjust to the dark, the presence of Martine's warm body lying beside her brought back the pleasant memories from the night before. She touched the curls on her cheek and felt the lovely pool of hair spilling across the pillow. She smiled and drifted between sleeping and waking. The ornately carved coffered ceiling, the outlines of heavy oak furniture and the shape of her giant four-poster bed slowly became visible.
Stretching her nude body and careful not to disturb her bedmate, Simone, Countess of Anjou and Queen of France, glanced over her shoulder at dawn's glow coming through the green and gold stained glass in the window. Simone was comfortable and content as the heat of the young woman's body warmed them both as they lay under the thick duvet, but soon she would have to get up. She fondly remembered that just a few hours before she had shown Martine the beautiful pleasures that could occur between two women, such a wonderful time. She returned her keen mind to the present; it was time to awake.
"Martine, my bud, we must wake now," said Simone softly into Martine's pretty little ear.
Martine lifted her head up and smiled in the half-light, "I am sorry my lady, please forgive me for falling asleep in your bed. What you did for me last night was beautiful." She hesitated briefly, then lowered her eyes and said huskily, "Now I want to do the same for you."
Simone looked down at Martine lovingly. The dawn's light slanting in from the window fell on her face highlighting the baby blue tint of her eyes and her long dark blond lashes. Her eyes sparkled in the light and then she smiled with a perfect row of even white teeth. Such a perfect creature Simone thought. She parted her lips and Martine rose up to receive the kiss. As Simone held the embrace she pressed her tongue slightly against Martine's lips and then she felt the young woman's tongue entwining in hers. The heat began rising in her body and the passion building. They kissed long and hard eagerly drinking in the emotion and the growing tender feelings between the two.
Simone slowly pulled the cover away from Martine's body eager yet again to see it. She was amazed at the completely feminine, but athletic shape to the young woman. She was tall for her age, about five feet four inches and proportioned well with a long neck, well shaped rounded breasts with pink nipples, a small waist, pear shaped buttocks, and long legs. She had gentlewoman's hands, delicate and soft and was blessed with small feet.
Simone had made love to women before, but most women of her era were not fond of exercise and tended to be flabby and soft to the touch, the way men liked their women at the time. Weaklings of the female variety disgusted Simone and she deemed them fit only for the likes of timid churchmen and lily-livered lords that hung around her domain like drone bees around a hive. She much preferred healthy women that could ride and hunt the same as she, not wilting when the sun became too hot or the wind too cold. One extra benefit of a fit young woman was the stamina Simone demanded when she took them to bed. Such a woman was Martine. Simone was sorely torn with herself; though lust for Martine held her mind, it was a fact she had important things to do today and could not tarry in bed. She rolled onto her back and smelled again the fragrances of the many scents coming from Martine's lush body, her perfume, her lilac watered hair, and the lusty smell of a young woman who had spent the night before making passionate love. She groaned knowing she could not let herself succumb to passion, sat up, and called for her ladies in waiting.
"Lady Giselle, Lady Eva, Adele," shouted the Queen, "get my cloak, linen dress and riding boots, I have work today!"
The women came into the chamber from where they had been busy in the foyer preparing the Queen for her day even before the first light. Lady Giselle, who was a little smarter than the others, had even brought the correct clothing. Martine was forgotten for the moment, the highborn ladies just giving her keen glances as they bustled about the room. Martine pulled the sheet about her and slipped into her private chamber next to the Queen's room.
Simone called out to Martine before she closed the door, "Busy yourself this day darling, I will see you this evening in the Chapel just before Compline."
The Queen was finally prepared for the day having breakfasted on barley porridge and figs. She walked at a brisk pace followed by Lady Giselle and Lady Eva across the great hall and out into the great staircase descending to the inner bailey.
Simone turned, "Lady Eva, speak to the cook and see that she has started preparing dinner tomorrow to my instructions. As you know, my cousins from England are riding in from Tours and I want to make sure some of that disgusting food they like will be on the table." Lady Eva nodded, too shy to giggle at the Queens annoyance at her husband's family.
Simone had to arrange things carefully including the seating. The Norman French side of her husband's family and her Spanish side would be at table tomorrow and tempers and old rivalries were likely to flare plus she also had the Bishop and his staff causing more problems. Seeing the Bailiff she made sure he had the stables swept of vermin and barracks floor packed with cedar shavings. She would have almost a dozen lords and a hundred men-at-arms and their horses inside the walls plus their camp followers, their whores, and their entertainers. The Norman royalty, or English as they liked to be called now were not much better than their men, for more than a hundred years of fighting the Welch and Saxons in England had done nothing to hone their courtly graces, or their personal habits. Some of them were even speaking that guttural English tongue. The Spanish and their overwhelming pride were another problem. They were almost too fastidious, prancing about her court in their foppish attire and begging for an insult. Preening peacocks Antoinette called them.
"What a day!" she moaned to herself. She headed for the stable in the outer bailey.
Simone mounted her roan stallion Caesar and cambered out the main gate. She rode astraddle like a man covering her legs with her long cloak. Sir Gilbert and Sir Rainald followed at a discreet distance for they knew she hated to be crowded. It was necessary to ride escorted even in this part of France because there were brigands about who were eager to take the purse of anyone, even a gentlewoman. Simone could probably ride down anyone attempting to stop her, but the two young noblemen insisted on keeping up with her. She rode fast and recklessly along the main road to the Abbey at Fontevrault. Dismounting, she entered the Chapel and prayed at the tombs of her Angevin relatives before going out the door of the west transcript. Her men rested their horses and waited for her outside. The man she sought was dressed in a black cloak and stood beside his horse at the enclosure gate.
He heard her boots and then watched her approach and said as she neared, "Your Grace?"
"Good day to you, Sir Thomas, how was your ride?"
Thomas, the Count of Foix, replied, "Uneventful, Madame."
"What have you found out about the plot the Bishop is hatching?"
So there it was, the reason he needed to follow those men and perform a little thievery. Since summer's end he had been following two unknown men in the service of the Bishop of Arles. He traced them all this way until he had a chance to procure evidence and talk to the Queen.
