Barry Unsworth - The Ruby In Her Navel

The disappointment was too keen to be borne in its fullness. I snatched at hopes: she had been delayed, she would arrive later. But the hours passed and she did not come. In the afternoon the French King arrived, his wife at his side, escorted by Saracen troops from the garrison at Brindisi. I saw the Queen's face as she passed below me, and she was beautiful and held her head very proudly, but the sight of this much celebrated Eleanora of Aquitaine meant little to me at that moment, my heart was heavy, my last hopes of Alicia's coming were ebbing away. No one in King Roger's following had sought me out with a message from her, there was no one I could ask. Something had happened to prevent her, something sudden and unforeseen – if she had known of it in time she would have sent word. I thought of her brother Adhemar and what she had said about his hostility to our marriage. Perhaps there were others, acting in concert with him…

My misery increased as the day wore on, and to darken my mood even further was the fact that I was not among those invited to the royal banquet in the Great Hall that evening, but had to be content to sup in a much smaller room, ill-lighted and further from the kitchens with for company the serjeants-at-arms I had taken ship with from Palermo, a number of lesser palace officials who had come in the King's party and some Pisan merchants who had nothing whatever to do with this meeting of monarchs but were seeking trade concessions from the lord of Potenza. I tried to keep myself apart as much as I could, eating little, not sharing in the talk. I knew with bitterness that if Alicia had come and our intention to marry been declared I would not have been treated thus; at that very moment I would have been sitting in the light, among the nobility, with my betrothed by my side.

Of the talk among us at table I can remember almost nothing. As I say, I took small part in it. One of the Pisans, too coarse-grained to notice my dejection, spoke to me about the great benefits to commerce brought about by the crusades, benefits to which the recent defeat, he said, made no smallest difference, rather the contrary, creating a market in Europe for luxury goods from the east, bringing closer the trade links with Constantinople and the Byzantine Empire. "And those that are settled there," he said, "the Frankish states in the Holy Land, they are in need of weapons and supplies. Constant need, you understand me? And what is the best way to transport them, these weapons and supplies? I will tell you, my friend. The best and safest way is by sea. We of Pisa are well placed."

As I was about to rise from the table, the knight who had saved the peace among us the previous day entered the room and came to me. Seeing that I had finished eating and was ready to leave, he asked if he might have some words of talk with me. I had no desire for this, I wanted only to retire to my chamber and nurse my unhappiness there: I was too cast down even to feel much curiosity as to his purposes. But it would have been churlish to refuse, especially after all his courtesy towards me.

We walked for a little while together on the cobbled stretch of ground between the inner wall and the postern gatehouse. He had come from the royal presence, he said, from the Hall where they were banqueting; he had obtained leave from King Louis to come and speak to me. "I praised your singing to him," he said. "To the King, not to Queen Eleonora, she knows nothing of it, and there is a design in this which you will understand in a moment."

The night was dark, there was only the lantern set in the postern gate to see by, and this gave hardly light enough for us to make out each other's faces. From somewhere close by, up towards the battlements, there came the hooting of an owl, a sound that seemed, in my present wretchedness, to pour mockery on me and my singing both. "I did not think King Louis had a taste for songs," I said.

"Nor does he, unless they are sacred in character and preferably sung in church. To say truth, he does not have a taste for anything that lifts the heart or raises the spirits. No, it is she that is the lover of music."

The darkness seemed to press upon me. The desire of solitude grew stronger. I said, "Sir, I am not in the best of spirits tonight, and my understanding is slow. I cannot find meaning in what you say."

"Bear with me a while longer and I will make all clear to you. I am speaking now in confidence, which I know you will respect. I am Robert of Talmont and I am the Queen's man, not the King's – I have spent most of my life at the court of Aquitaine. I was present when they married in the Cathedral of Bordeaux, and I was in her following when she accompanied Louis to Paris to reign as queen. You will know that things are not well between them – there has even been talk of a divorce. There are those who would wish this, for the sake of a some private advantage.

But any who have the peace and safety of France at heart will want this marriage to endure. I have thought that in a small way – but small things can lead to great ones – you might help in this."

This seemed such an extraordinary idea that it distracted me for a moment from my gloom. "Help in it? How in the world could I help in it?"

"Queen Eleanora loves music. She grew up in her father's court and heard when still a child the songs of Cercamon and Marcabru and other troubadours of like gifts. Her husband does not care for such things but he wants to please her, he wants to save the marriage. I have suggested to him that he should make a gift of you to the Queen, and he has very graciously consented."

"Make a gift of me? In heaven's name -"

"You would have great success in Paris. The Queen would like you and so would the court. You have a voice of rare quality and range and you know how to put feeling into the words, which is not such a common thing.

Also you have a fine presence, you are tall and handsome and have the look of the north about you, which makes you different from the singers of Poitou and Aquitaine that people are used to."

I almost felt inclined to laugh, it was such an absurdity, coming at such a time. My head and trunk and arms and legs, all the ties of my life in Palermo, all the hopes I still had, in spite of everything, in Alicia, bundled together into a packing box, tied up with ribbons and sent off to Paris! "I am grateful for your good opinion of my singing,"

I said, "and I hope for a better understanding between their majesties, but what you are asking of me is quite impossible. To be frank with you in my turn, my life is about to change but not in such a way as that. I am soon to be married and my bride and I will be leaving for the Kingdom of Jerusalem, where we will live on our estates."

He was silent for a while and I saw him nod his head. "That will be the lady you so stoutly defended yesterday. A pity – with your gifts you could make your fortune in France. Well, I see the time is not right, which is often the case with causes that are otherwise good. But the offer is there still. If for any reason you should change your mind in these next weeks and decide to come to Paris, remember my name, Robert of Talmont, ask for me and I will make sure you are well introduced."

I thanked him for his kindness and promised not to forget his name, and he wished me good fortune, and so we parted. The encounter, and the unexpected proposal, had helped to turn my mind from the disappointment I had suffered that morning, and once back in my room I began to think what it might be best to do. She would not come now, so much was certain. There might be some word from her waiting for me at Palermo. I had delivered the money to Spaventa and I had his token. No one here would care whether I stayed or went. I decided to leave with first light, whether or not I found company, even though some parts of the way were dangerous for the solitary traveller. In the event, I was fortunate: the Saracen troops from Brindisi, their escort duties concluded, had a period of leave which they were spending in Salerno, and it was in their company that I left the castle.