Ardennia: The Unlikely Story of Cinderella's Prince

The Free Knights

King Charles, flanked by the Count, Henry and Guy, led the cavalcade out of the castle through the gatehouse and down the hill to the village. They were clad in light mail and riding palfreys; their armor and lances being brought along on their warhorses which were led by their squires. Behind them followed the Ardennian knights, men at arms on foot and the free company led by their newly elected captain, Geoffrey of Ghent. Bringing up the rear was the baggage train managed by stable boys and assorted flunkies.

“A splendid day to begin our march,” commented the Count.

“Indeed,” agreed the King.

“And a mercy it is for a tired bag of bones like me,” said Guy.

“Come Guy, you still have at least one more campaign in you,” the King said.

“Yes, as long as the weather is fair, the road is easy and the foe is as feeble as I am.”

“Feeble or not you are needed, for your experience if nothing else,” said the King.

“My feelings exactly; just having you with us gives me confidence that all will go well and we shall prevail against the Burgundians,” said Henry.

“Ha. That shows how much you know. The Burgundians will be a hard nut to crack with or without me. I put the odds at about 50-50 that we will take them.”

“I have to agree with Sir Guy; the Duke of Burgundy is a formidable opponent,” the Count said.

“Still, all in all it is a splendid morning,” the King opined.

At the bottom of the hill they came to the village and began to pass through it. People thronged to see them. They waved their scruffy scarfs and hats, shouted ‘hurrahs’, blew a few home-made horns, voiced words of encouragement and generally made a big fuss. Henry took it in blithely until they reached the village well where a young woman set down her water buckets and locked her soft brown eyes on him. She was barefoot, attired in rags and smudged with dirt, but he thought her the loveliest creature he had ever seen. He could hardly help himself from stopping to gaze at her beauty; her high cheekbones, petite nose, fulsome lips, exquisite eyebrows and a flawless chin. Involuntarily he turned his head as he passed to find her eyes still glued to him.

The Count and King did not notice this, but Guy did.

“Too young for me, but I’d swivel my head for her too if I were in your shoes,” said Guy in a low voice.

“What?” said Henry, turning his head back around.

“I said keep your eyes on the road ahead, we haven’t any time for detours and distractions.”

They rode on into the countryside over hill and dale, their accoutrements clattering and the dust rising up from the road. To each side of the road there were golden wheat fields, vineyards, pastures full of grazing cattle and wooded slopes. Now and then they forded small streams or crossed larger waterways on stone bridges. Occasionally they met with peasants who moved off the road in deference to the cavalcade. All this went unappreciated by Henry because he could not take his mind off the young woman with the soft brown eyes. What a contrast to the big boned and plain Lenore; whom all the finery, cosmetics and primping could never make attractive. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Lenore was coarse and uninteresting; how could he ever be happy with such a woman at his side for the rest of his life. Well, maybe his life would be short. Maybe a Burgundian would end it with a lance through his helmet visor or the blow of a mace.

The King called a halt at midday near a babbling brook that allowed the men and horses an opportunity to quench their thirst. As the King, Count, Guy and Henry chewed on cheese and bread under the shade of a big oak they looked out on their army of some fifteen hundred men and began talking about their campaign.

“We have nearly a hundred knights, not counting a contingent that will be meeting up with us near Bois,” said the King.

“And how many archers?” asked the Count.

“They make up nearly a third of our number,” Guy answered.

“Which leaves us with about nine hundred infantry armed with pike and halberds,” added the King.

“Not a bad tally for such short notice,” said the Count.

“How many men do you think will join us at Bois,” asked Henry.

“At least five hundred,” the King answered.

“Two thousand men against how many?” Henry asked.

“Hard to say; to invest Paris they must have at least four thousand troops,” answered Guy.

“Of course half their army will have to remain in their siege lines to prevent the French from sallying forth and striking them in the rear,” qualified the King.

“Hence the 50-50 chance of us holding the field,” said Henry.

“Roughly; but we could increase the odds in our favor if we employ superior tactics,” said Guy.

“And how would you do that?” asked the Count.

“I would make sure a rising sun is behind us when we attack, post our archers in front of the our knights and infantry, shower the Burgundians with arrows and then allow our knights to pass through the archers; making an all or nothing charge to break their formation,” said Guy.

“Sound,” said the Count.

“And particularly effective if it’s not raining or cloudy,” added the King.

“What do you think?” asked Guy of Henry.

“I’m not the strategist here, but I don’t like the sound of ‘all or nothing,’” said Henry.

“That’s usually what it comes down to in a pitched battle between equally matched forces,” said the King.

“Would you be leading the charge, Father?” asked Henry.

“Of course.”

“And I gather you will want to be by his side,” said the Count.

“Of course,” Henry replied without a lot of conviction.

“And what about you, Guy?” continued the Count.

“He will stay behind to command the men at arms and order them to follow up our charge when the moment is right,” the King said.

This ended the summit along the babbling brook, and shortly afterwards the host resumed its march through the tranquil and idyllic Ardennian realm. As they rode on Henry and Guy fell behind the King and Count, and chatted. Mostly it was idle conversation. But as the day neared its conclusion Henry told Guy that he had once been very keen to join in battle.

“When was that?” asked Guy.

“During the siege of our castle; I wanted so much to fight beside my father at the main gate when the Saxons stormed it. But after witnessing the carnage of that fight and seeing the wounded being treated in the banquet hall I quite lost my appetite for combat.”

“Perhaps that is why you never made an apt student,” said Guy.

“Almost certainly,” replied Henry.

“I’m glad you told me this. But it doesn’t make any difference. You are the King’s son, the Crown Prince of Ardennia. A heavy burden lies upon your shoulders and like it or not you must fight with valor when we come up against the Burgundians.”

“I know that,” said Henry.

“Then at least some of my lessons sunk in,” Guy said.

“I suppose so,” said Henry glumly.

“Don’t look so grim. You and the King will have a bodyguard when you make the charge. At the very least they will spend their lives to preserve yours for as long as possible.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring,” said Henry.

“Then hold onto this; a coward dies a thousand deaths, a brave man tastes of death but once.”

Not long after this the army made its camp for the night in a place where there was ample wood for the soldiers to make their fires. Henry’s squire brushed down his palfrey, helped his fellow squires erect the King’s tent and assisted in the preparation of two roasted ducks which were dispatched and washed down with wine by the Count of Lorraine, King Charles, Guy of Lucent and the Crown Prince. By the time they finished their meal it was twilight and Guy invited Henry to visit the company of free knights with him. Henry accepted the invitation and the two sauntered over to their bivouac. They came upon the knights as two of them were arguing over who was the better dagger thrower.

“I am,” said Francis of Sens.

“Prove it,” Basel of Aube challenged.

“Alright I will,” said Francis, tossing his apple to Adrian of Bray: “Adrian, would you stand against the poplar and put that apple on your head?”

“For a goodly price,” said the pock faced Adrian who had been unfortunate enough to contract smallpox as a child.

“Does half of my winnings sound goodly?” asked Basel.

“It depends on how much your winnings will be?” Adrian inquired.

“Twenty deniers if that is what Francis will wager against my skewering the apple before I skewer your handsome mug,” said Basel, turning to Francis.

“Done, provided you do it from twenty five paces,” said Francis.

“Adrian?” asked Basel.

Adrian answered by walking to the poplar and putting the apple on her head; whereupon Geoffrey of Ghent, assuming the role of arbitrator, marked off the twenty five paces. Basel took up the spot, weighed his dagger, flipped it once and threw it at his target. It struck the poplar just to the left of Adrian’s left ear.

“Not even close,” crowed Francis.

“See how Adrian didn’t even flinch,” said Guy to Henry as Geoffrey retrieved the dagger and gave it back to Basel.

“Yes; he is either a fool or very brave,” said Henry.

“Or very stoical,” Guy said.

Once again Basel weighed the dagger, flipped it and tossed it at his target. This time it struck just to the right of Adrian’s right ear, and Adrian cracked a smile.

“Come, come Basel. Get to the finish of this,” said Francis, seeing now that he was going to lose twenty deniers.

Again Geoffrey retrieved the dagger and again Basel threw it, this time skewering the apple and pinning it to the poplar.

“Well done Basel. Francis, I believe you owe Basil twenty deniers,” said Geoffrey.

“I don’t have it just at the moment, but after we receive our pay from the King I will honor my debt. If that is alright with you, Basel,” said Francis.

“It is, as long as you pledge your horse in lieu of payment should you meet a grisly end in battle against Burgundy,” replied Basel.

“I pledge it,” said Francis.

“What did you think of that?” asked Geoffrey of Guy and Henry.

“Very entertaining,” said Guy.

“And do you have it?” whispered Geoffrey in Guy’s ear.

“Yes, here it is,” said Guy, discretely handing Geoffrey an ointment of mousse.

“I owe you for this, are you sure you won’t take a few deniers for your trouble?” asked Geoffrey.

“I’m sure. Now, apply the ointment tonight and again every three days for the next fortnight,” instructed Guy.

“Why every three days?”

“Because that is the incubation time for the nits and you probably have nits and they are impervious to the mousse.”

“What are nits,” asked Henry.

“They are the crabs’ eggs and pray you never get them?” answered Guy.

“Avoiding loose women would be more efficacious,” counseled Geoffrey.

“That would work too,” said Guy.

“Now, my friends, would you care to join us around our campfire for a little wine?” Geoffrey asked.

“I thought you’d never ask,” answered Guy.

Guy and Henry promptly sat down among the eight free knights, and a pouch of wine was passed around. This put Guy in a very good mood and he told one of his stories about the old days when he had rode the jousting circuit.

“A tall tale, but I have one that is taller,” said Basel.

“Let us hear it,” said Guy jovially.

“Well, this happened to me in a place very far from here that was sparsely populated and very wild. There were wolves all about and nary a path to follow. Lost, I came upon a trail that winded into a deep ravine that ended at the base of an enormous cottonwood tree that had a hollow in it.”

“I think I know this place,” said Orla of Orleans.

“I’m sure you don’t,” Basel said.

“Go on,” said Henry, picturing the fantastical scene in his mind.

“All about the tree were animals that were curiously tame. There was a hare, a fawn, a squirrel, an owl, a bear cub, a skunk, a chipmunk, a weasel and a fox. They just stood there looking at me as if I was an apparition. I grew uneasy and decided I should retrace my steps. Before I could, a dwarf emerged from the hollow. He was quite an ugly dwarf. His nose was crooked, his hair was tangled and filthy and he had a wart on his chin.”

“I know this fellow,” joked Adrian.

“May I continue?” Basel asked.

“But of course,” Adrian said.

“He looked me over as if he was sizing me up and asked if I was lost. I told him I was and asked for directions. He gave them to me, I thanked him and I turned to go. ‘Kind sir, before you depart, could you spare a scrap of bread for a poor hungry dwarf’ said the dwarf. I said I had no scrap of bread to give. He asked me for a bit of cheese then. I felt about in my pocket and found a cheese and leaned down and placed it in his grubby little hand. ‘Lucky knight’ said the dwarf: ‘had you refused me this bounty I would have turned you into a creature of the forest like the ones you see before me. Be gone and never return’.”

“Bravo! That is a merry yarn,” exclaimed Guy.

“I have one merrier,” said Adrian of Bray.

“We are all ears,” Geoffrey said, taking another slug from the wine pouch and passing it on to Guy who took a draught as well.

“I was riding along the lower reaches of the River Loire, minding my own business and flush with coin after a victory in a tournament in Lyons. The birds were singing sweetly, the morning sun was sparkling off the river and a fresh breeze from the ocean was keeping the horse flies down. My heart was light and my troubles were few as I whistled a catchy tune I had heard a minstrel play at my victory banquet. All seemed well with the world and –”

“Get on with it,” Francis interrupted.

“As I was saying, all seemed well with the world when I came upon a glade happily situated on a bend in the river. In this lovely glade were three nymphs lounging perfectly nude with their toes in the water. I dismounted and walked up to them as easy as you please. ‘What knight, will you have all of us or just one’ said the fairest of them all. ‘I think you will do, at least for the time being’ I said. ‘If you have me, riches beyond measure will come your way. Are you sure you wish to have me’ said the fairest of them all.”

“I think I know how this will end,” said Guy.

“May I finish?” asked Adrian.

“Sorry,” Guy said.

“Before I answered her question I asked the second most beautiful nymph what I would have if I took her. ‘If you take me’ she said: ‘ you shall have love as wide and deep as the ocean; as high and lasting as the mountain, as bright and resplendent as the sun. Does that sound better than my sister’s offer’? I said it did, but then I asked the third nymph what I would have if I took her.”

“And what did she offer?” asked Henry.

“Fame; as far reaching as the stars above and never ending.”

“So what did you do,” asked Orla.

“I chose the last nymph, ravished her and went on my way as easy as you please.”

“Good for you, but I would have taken the riches,” said Guy.

“Why?” asked Adrian.

“Because fame is fleeting no matter what that nymph says; and love – well when you get old and decrepit love doesn’t hold a candle to a roof over your head.”

“I’d have chosen love,” said Henry.

“Of course, you’re rich and have no idea what it’s like to be scratching for a living,” Guy said.

On that note Guy and Henry said their goodbyes and headed back to the King’s tent. Along the way Guy said: “If I tell you something can you keep from blabbing it all over?”

“I can and I will, Sir Guy.”

“I’ll hold you to that; Adrian of Bray, the knight with the pocked face. . .”

“Yes,” said Henry.

“Adrian of Bray is a woman.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“She is; as sure as the sun comes up in the morning that one has nothing between her legs.”

“What in the world makes you think that,” asked Henry.

“She has no Adam’s apple, dunderhead. Did you not notice?”

“No, but so what?”

“Men have Adam’s apples, most women don’t,” explained Guy

“Huh.”

“She must have some pluck to pull off what she has, and I’d wager crowns to pennies that she’s as good a knight as any in this camp. So keep your mouth shut about this.”

“I already said I would,” said Henry.

“Good Prince,” said Guy, patting Henry on the head as they reached the tent and joined the King and the Count in slumber.

The next morning the army broke camp early and continued on the road to Paris. It was another fair day and everyone was in high spirits; everyone mounted at least. The men at arms, tough as they were, wore down little by little as the day progressed. Furthermore, the closer they got to Paris the more morose they became because Paris was where they would be bloodied in combat and the reality of that was starting to set in.

Henry, for his part, spent much of the day thinking about the visit to the free knights’ bivouac and the androgynous knight and the nymph that offered love as wide and deep as the ocean to Adrian of Bray. He stuck with his choice of love and thought how far he was from attaining it; and how hopeless his situation with Lenore was. Again he almost took comfort in the fact that death could soon make his ‘situation’ moot.

“What say you to visiting our friends the free knights again this evening?” asked Guy, ending Henry’s reverie.

“I say I had a headache this morning from all the wine I drank last night.”

“All the wine you drank! Zounds, you have no fortitude when it comes to spirits. You shall have to overcome that,” Guy said.

“I will if I have to,” said Henry.

“Well I won’t force you, but more’s the pity if you can’t enjoy a quaff now and again.”

“I’ll accompany you tonight Guy and not whine about it.”

“Your Grace, I must tell you that your puns tend to be less than witty,” said Guy: “I would refrain from subjecting the free knights to them. We don’t want them to desert just before the battle.”

“Ha, ha,” said Henry.

When they visited the free knights that night Henry took Guy’s advice and refrained from making any puns. The next day the cavalcade rendezvoused with their reinforcements in Bois, and three days later the flower of Ardennian chivalry, bolstered by the free knights, came face to face with the Burgundians encircling Paris. Night fell, guards were posted and those who could, slept. Guy was among those who could, Henry was not. Dawn came anon, but it was not a cheerful dawn; the skies were grey and a drizzle was coming down. King Charles considered postponing his attack in the hopes of a bright sunrise the next day, but when the Burgundians started to form up he was forced to do the same. As planned, his archers – trying as best they could to keep their bowstrings dry – took their place in front of the mounted knights and infantry.

“Steel yourself for mayhem,” said the King to his son as he raised his mailed hand in the air.

“I think I have butterflies,” Henry responded, looking around him to see the King’s bodyguard and the free knights who made up the center of their line.

“That will pass the moment we close with our foes. Just stay as near to me as you can,” reassured the King.

“I will definitely do that,” said Henry.

“Let loose your arrows!” shouted the King, bringing down his hand.

Some six hundred arrows arced toward the Burgundians. The battle had begun.