Ardennia: The Unlikely Story of Cinderella's Prince

Two Ladies of Very Different Temperaments

Two days later Henry had another tete-a tete, this time with the daughter of the Viscount of Montreuil. The second he saw her he knew she was not who he was looking for because she was too tall. Disappointed, he made some polite conversation and then said he had to be going on his way. Tears welled up in her eyes.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Why must you leave so soon? Did I say something to offend you?” she said.

“No,” he said.

“I did, didn’t I? I’m sorry; I just say the stupidest things sometimes. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I get so nervous when I’m around men and I try too hard to compensate for being so tall.”

“You didn’t say anything stupid and you’re not too tall,” he said diplomatically.

“I’m taller than you and being taller than a prince is never a good thing.”

“I don’t know about that. I think tall women are very alluring,” said Henry.

“You do? she said, brightening up.

“Yes,” he said.

“Even if they tower over you like I do?”

“The taller the better,” he said.

“Well I don’t think you will ever find anyone taller than me, so why are you in such a hurry to leave?”

“Because you are wrong about that; there is a woman taller than you and I am on a quest to find her.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Really,” he answered.

“That’s so romantic. How tall is she?”

“She’s taller than you by a head,” Henry said.

“Then you must be on your way to find her.”

“Thank you for understanding,” he said, rising to his feet.

She rose to her feet too, looked down on him, bid him farewell and told him she would never forget him and that she hoped he would succeed in his quest to find the very tall lady and live happily ever after. He thanked her, made his way out of the Viscount’s residence and rejoined Guy, who was standing outside holding the palfreys and mule, and feeding his goat a carrot.

“Let’s go while the going is good,” said Henry.

“She wasn’t the one I assume,” Guy said.

“No, and I want to get out of here before I have to tell any more lies,” said Henry.

“Sometimes telling lies is the only thing you can do,” said Guy.

“Is that so,” said Henry, saddling up.

“That’s so, especially when you are sparing people’s feelings,” said Guy, saddling up too.

“How do you know I was lying to do that?” asked Henry.

“Because I know you,” said Guy.

On that note they put the residence of the Viscount of Montreuil behind them and headed for the ferry which would take them across the River Oise and to the next lady on Henry’s list; the pack mule in tow and the goat – now off its tether – following in their wake.

They reached the crossing just as the ferry departed for the other side and they had to cool their heels. As they were cooling their heels, a merchant with a pasty face and a floppy hat arrived with a cart full of his wares. He pulled the reins on his nag as he came up to them and asked if they were interested in buying a bolt of wool cloth.

“Do we look like we need a bolt of wool cloth?” asked Guy.

“No, but It never hurts to ask. Where are you bound?” asked the merchant.

“Where are you?” countered Guy.

“To greener pastures. No one on this side of the river is interested in my wool, which is a shame because it is very finely woven and I’m selling it at a discount.”

“Perhaps no one is interested in your wool because your competitors have beaten you to the punch,” said Guy.

“Ah, my competitors; they are the bane of my existence. If it weren’t for them I would be swimming in coin. As it is I don’t even have the two deniers for my ferry passage.”

“Then how are you going to get across?” asked Guy.

“I don’t know. Maybe the ferryman will accept a promise that I will pay him later.”

“Would you accept such a promise for your wares?” Guy asked.

“Certainly not; that would be bad business.”

“Then why would you expect the ferryman to do it?” asked Guy.

“Because he is only selling his services and I am selling goods,” explained the merchant.

“But it’s the same principle,” said Henry, jumping in.

“That may be, but giving my goods away on a promise could cost me dear while giving me a ride across the river – even if I never honored my promise – would cost the ferryman nothing.”

“Nothing but his labor and the setting of precedent that he is an easy mark,” Prince Henry said.

The man at the center of their debate arrived with his ferry and discharged a tinker and his wagon onto the shore.

“How is business on the other side?” asked the merchant of the tinker.

“As good as can be expected; there is always someone who needs a pot mended,” said the tinker.

“And have you encountered any merchants selling their goods?” the merchant asked.

“Only in the market town of Soissons; they hold their market days every Tuesday,” said the tinker.

“Were any merchants selling bolts of wool cloth there?”

“I don’t know, I was too busy tinkering to notice,” said the tinker.

“Thank you. By the way, would you be interested in a bolt of wool cloth. I have some very nice cloth that is as blue as your eyes,” said the merchant.

“I’ve no need for a bolt of cloth, blue or otherwise. Fare thee well,” said the tinker, going on his way.

“Come on!” said the ferryman to the merchant, having waited long enough for him.

The merchant boarded the ferry, joining Henry and Guy.

“That will be two deniers,” said the ferryman.

The merchant made a show of checking his pockets and coming up empty.

“Two deniers,” repeated the ferryman.

“I seem to be bereft of coin at the moment. But if you will give me credit I will settle with you upon my return from Soissons.

“Two deniers or you can get off my ferry,” said the ferryman.

“Be reasonable. Is it not better to give me passage and accept payment later than to leave me stranded on this side of the river and have no prospect of making a profit off me?”

“For the last time, that will be two deniers,” the ferryman said.

“Here, I will pay his passage,” said Henry, giving the ferryman two deniers.

The ferryman took the two deniers and started pulling on the rope which was tied around a big cottonwood tree on the other side of the river. Slowly the ferry began to move toward the opposite shore.

“I am in your debt and at the first opportunity I will recompense you with interest,” said the merchant.

“There is no need to recompense me. Hopefully your business will prosper and someday you will be in a position to help someone who is in a pinch,” said Henry.

“If I prosper I will certainly do so, provided I prosper enough.”

“How much is enough?” asked Guy.

“Well, in truth one can never prosper enough. That is the creed I go by.”

“Isn’t having a fine home, food on the table and clothes on your back prosperity enough?” asked Guy.

“Not nearly,” answered the merchant.

“Well what if you added a good amount of land under tillage and a sack of gold coins stashed away in a safe place?” said Guy.

“Still not enough,” the merchant said.

“Would owning a fleet of merchant ships do it then?” asked Guy.

“No.”

“How about coming into possession of a gold mine with inexhaustible reserves?”

“That is getting close,” said the merchant.

“Close?”

“Yes; you see prosperity can be a fragile thing and you can never have too much of it. Suppose my house burned down. Suppose a drought came and ruined my crops under tillage. Suppose I forgot where I stashed my coins and my fleet was lost in a storm and there was a catastrophic cave-in at my mine: what would I do then?”

“Start all over, I guess,” said Guy.

“Exactly; and who wants to start all over after being prosperous but not prosperous enough,” said the merchant as the ferryman toiled to earn his deniers.

“I see your point. But what if everyone lived by your creed?”

“Then everyone would be prosperous or on the verge of prosperity.”

“I don’t think that would be possible,” said Guy.

“Why not?” asked the merchant.

“Because there is not enough to go around for everyone to prosper to the extent you are saying,” said Guy.

“Perhaps, at any rate there is enough to make some people immensely prosperous, and I intend to be one of them,” concluded the merchant who hadn’t had the two deniers for his passage on the ferry.

The ferryman continued to pull on the rope until the ferry finally landed and his cargo disembarked. Henry and Guy parted ways with the merchant and proceeded on the road that would take them to the Viscount of Boulogne’s manor. When dusk came they made their bivouac and spent yet another night under the stars; which was becoming routine for them and the palfreys, the mule and the goat. The next morning they were on their way again and in good cheer.

“I dreamed I was a young man again last night,” said Guy.

“I dreamt I kissed a frog and it turned into a princess,” said Henry.

“Your dream sounds more interesting than mine. Tell me about it,” said Guy.

“You were there, so was your goat and our palfreys and mule. We were in a swamp and the rain was pouring down and the little bit of high ground we were on was gradually becoming inundated. Noah rowed by in –”

“The Noah?” interrupted Guy.

“Yes. He rowed over in a little boat and asked if your goat was a she. You said ‘yes’ and Noah invited the goat into his boat but your goat wouldn’t go into the boat and Noah rowed away.”

“So what then?” asked Guy.

“A large bullfrog surfaced just in front of our isle, gave out a ‘ribbit’ and came ashore. It was a sickish green with bulging eyes and big eardrums. ‘Did you come to gloat at us?’ You asked the frog; the frog ribbited once. ‘Did you come for some other reason?’ You asked; the frog ribbited twice. ‘Do you need our help?’ You asked; the frog ribbited twice.”

“If this dream is yours, why am I doing all the talking?” asked Guy.

“I imagine it is because you do most of the talking when we are awake,” Henry said.

“Go on,” said Guy.

“Well you continued playing twenty questions with the frog until you finally asked it if it wanted me to kiss it. The frog, in its fashion, said yes. But I wouldn’t kiss it, so you prodded me. You took the frog in your hands, petted it and told me it wasn’t so ugly and if I just closed my eyes and kissed it we would find out why the frog wanted to be kissed. I said ‘if you want to find out why the frog wants to be kissed, kiss it yourself’; so you did and nothing happened, whereupon you handed the frog to me.

“Did you kiss it?” Guy asked.

“No. I threw it back into the swamp. But the frog came ashore again and started to ribbit incessantly.”

“Did you kiss it then?” asked Guy.

“No, I tried to stomp it with my foot but you wouldn’t let me. You picked it up and put it in my face and said ‘kiss the frog or it will never stop raining’. So I kissed the frog and it turned into a beautiful princess and the rain immediately stopped and the sun came out.”

“That’s quite a dream, my Prince,” Guy said.

“Yes, now tell me about yours,” said Henry.

Guy told Henry his dream paled in comparison, but he told it anyway and afterward they engaged in desultory banter until noontime, when they stopped to eat their lunch and let their animals take their fill of water from a pond that was inhabited by frogs that were not princesses.

Within fifteen minutes they were on their way again because Henry didn’t want to waste any time before he found out if the daughter of the Viscount of Boulogne was his enigmatic lady;. But as luck would have it, the directions they got from an old man they met on the road took them down the wrong road and they had to retrace their steps. It was starting to get late when they got back on track, and to make sure they were back on track they stopped to get directions from a girl who was driving a big sow down the road with a switch.

“That’s a fine sow,” said Guy.

“The finest, it gave us a litter of seventeen piglets this spring,” bragged the girl.

“I don’t doubt it,” Guy said.

“And every piglet survived, even the runt.”

“She must give good milk,” said Guy.

“She does, plus she has an extra set of teats. Do you want to see?”

“No, I believe you,” said Guy.

“She’s as sweet-tempered a sow as you’ll ever see; she lets my little brother ride on her back.”

“That’s sweet-tempered alright,” said Henry: “I wonder if –”

“Our neighbor offered to trade his milch cow for her but my father turned him down. He said no milch cow is worth as much as Yvette no matter how much milk it gives.”

“Yvette is the name of your sow,” said Guy.

“Yes, don’t you think it’s a pretty name?” said the girl.

“I do,” said Guy.

“I gave it to her about the time she was weaned from her mother who died shortly after, and that was a real hardship for us.”

“Yes, losing a sow is always a hardship,” said Guy.

“But as my mother says, ‘what God takes away with one hand he gives with another’, and he gave us Yvette.”

“Your mother is a wise woman and Yvette is a fine sow. Now –”

“I’m taking her for a bath in the stream. She loves her baths and always has a big appetite afterward. We feed her all our scraps and all the rotten cabbages we can find. That still isn’t enough so we let her run free to munch on weeds and dig up roots and grubs and stuff.”

“I’m sure she loves that; now can you direct us to the manor house of the Viscount of Boulogne?” asked Henry.

“Sure, just go that way,” she said, pointing toward the direction the road was going.

“How long will it take to get there?” Henry asked.

“Not long,” she said; and she switched Yvette who was nibbling on some vegetation, and headed her toward the stream that Henry and Guy had recently forded.

Henry and Guy continued down the road in the direction they had been on, not much better off than they had been before their encounter with Yvette and the girl.

“That girl loves her sow as much as you are beginning to love your goat,” said Henry.

“Posh, but I really should give my goat a name,” said Guy.

“How about Isabella?” suggested Henry.

“Too regal,” said Guy.

“Doreen,” Henry put forth.

“No, I don’t like that name at all. Maybe I’ll name her Adele; that has a ring to it,” said Guy.

“Adele. Sounds good to me,” said Henry.

“Me too; Adele it shall be,” said Guy.

So it was that the goat was named Adele; and that Adele, Henry, Guy, the unnamed palfreys and the unnamed pack mule arrived before the manor house of the Viscount of Boulogne soon after Adele was christened. Henry unpacked his waistcoat and with the help of Guy adjusted it to the best effect. Then Henry walked up to the door of the manor and pulled on a cord that was connected to a bell in the house. The bell clanged and in no time a steward opened the door.

“Who are you,?” asked the steward.

“I am Prince Henry of Ardennia,” said Henry.

“How can I be sure of that?” said the steward.

“How can you be sure I’m not?” answered Henry.

“What do you want?”

“I would like to talk to the Viscount,” said Henry.

“He isn’t here,” said the steward.

“Is Lady Esmeralda here?” Henry asked.

“Yes.”

“Then I would speak with her,” said Henry.

“Wait a minute,” said the steward and he closed the door.

Henry looked back at Guy and shrugged his shoulders. Guy shrugged his shoulders too; and nothing happened for a minute or two. Then the steward reappeared and led Henry into the sitting room. Henry sat down and waited. . .and waited. . .and waited. Just about the time he was going to get up and leave, the beautiful Esmeralda entered the sitting room looking almost as splendid as she had at the masquerade ball. She proudly presented her hand to him, allowed him to kiss it and sat down on the principal chair in the room. He sat down on the sofa.

“I think I know why you are here,” said Esmeralda.

“You do?” said Henry, his heart in his throat because he thought Esmeralda could very well be the owner of the slipper.

“Yes; and it’s pretty pathetic,” she said.

“What do you mean?” said Henry, taken aback.

“I think you are here because you found out that the little tart you danced with at the masquerade ball is the illegitimate daughter of a mere baron.”

Henry’s jaw dropped.

“Am I right or am I wrong?” she continued.

“I. . . I . . . –”

“You don’t have to answer. I can surmise it all: You found out she was illegitimate, cut off whatever you had going with her and have come running here to ask me for my hand,” she said.

“That couldn’t be further from the –”

“Like I said, pathetic; and futile too,” she said

“Why?” he said, just out of curiosity.

“Because I’ve had the son of a certain French marquis waiting for me in the wings and just yesterday I accepted his proposal of marriage.”

“Good for you,” said Henry, not exactly in the frame of mind to give Esmeralda a hearty congratulation.

“Of course I could call it off with a snap of my fingers if I wanted to, but I don’t think I do,” she said.

“I don’t think you should,” said Henry.

“If that’s the way you feel, maybe I won’t. But if you act more contrite and beg me on your knees I might consider dumping the marquis’ son in favor of you.”

“Really?” he said.

“Yes. It would certainly break the heart of the marquis´ son and perhaps drive him to jump off a cliff; but a lady always must be looking for the best offer out there.”

“Well I have no offer to give,” said Henry.

“If that is true, why are you here?” she asked.

“Because I wanted to take the measure of your foot,” he answered.

“What!”

“But I no longer want to, I no longer need to. You are definitely not the person I thought you might be.”

“And who did you think I might be?” she asked.

“The lady I danced with at the masquerade ball; who is not what you say she is; no, I will never believe that!” said Henry.

“Have it your way then. I will marry the marquis’ son and leave you to your fate. You are dismissed!”

Henry stood up and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him; mad as a hornet. He slammed the entry door to the manor on his way out too. He walked to the waiting Guy, didn’t say a word, mounted his horse and set off. Guy followed and caught up in short order.

“What happened?” said Guy.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s just ride,” said Henry.

“Where to?” asked Guy.

“To the residence of the Viscount of Pontieu,” said Henry.

“So, she wasn’t the one,” said Guy.

“No, definitely not.”

“This is turning out to be harder than you thought, isn’t it?” said Guy.

“I said I didn’t want to talk about it,” Henry said.

So they didn’t talk about it. They didn’t talk at all until they came to the River Somme and it was beginning to grow dark. By then Henry had cooled off and he shared what Esmeralda had told him with Guy.

“That’s pretty nasty, but all part and parcel of a woman’s arsenal,” said Guy.

“So I shouldn’t take too much stock in what she said?” Henry said.

“I wouldn’t put any stock in what she said. She was just trying to manipulate you so she could get what she wanted,” said Guy.

“Which was to be a princess instead of a marquise,” said Henry.

“That about sums it up,” said Guy as it began to sprinkle.

“We better make camp and get the tent out,” said Henry.

“Yes, it looks like our spell of good weather has ended. It will be a cold supper for us tonight,” said Guy.

“I’m afraid so,” said Henry.

They stopped, put up the tent and ate some cheese and some bread they had bought from the bakery along their route. Then they went to sleep in the tent as it began raining cats and dogs.