Chapter 2


 "This would be a good place for setting up camp." Cedric Baldot, the troop leader pointed vaguely at a moss-covered clearing that lay ahead of them.

Henry II slowed down his stallion's brisk trot and allowed the other man to close up to him to the forefront of their small army.
"I guess this place is as good as any other," he agreed, raising his arm in a halting gesture to signal his troops that they would rest here for the night.

This thoughtless movement caused a stabbing pain in his shoulder where he had injured himself a few days earlier while putting down a small rebellion near the south-eastern border.

Nothing wild, he was sure of, but unpleasant enough and hindering, as they had to control three more border posts before they could returned to French court.

"How is your shoulder?" Cedric asked as if he had guessed his King's thoughts.
Henry put him off with a single movement of his hand, enervated and unwilling to admit his indulgence neither to himself nor the other man, no matter how long they knew each other.
"Not even worth mentioning it."
He slid off the saddle in front of a big beech and handed the reins over to one of the squires.

"Dry him off and water him down at the stream," Henry instructed the shy boy while simultaneously explaining in the same breath where his men should pitch his tent.
It was only when he was sure that his orders would be carried out to his satisfaction that Henry ran down the steep bank himself to refresh his heated body at the steam and wash away the dirt and sweat of the past few hours. The sun had burned down on them mercilessly all day and the heat had soaked his clothes in sweat. Groaning, he stripped off his heavy uniform jacket, giving his battered shoulder a new sting. Henry carelessly dropped the garment in the sand and climbed over a rock to bore his wa y into the water. The riverbed under his boots was slipperier than he expected and it took him a moment to find a reasonably good footing. Then he leaned down to wash his face, his neck and upper body.

Although he would never admit it out loud, but after weeks of deprivation he missed the luxury of being able to take a hot bath any time it pleased him as well as his own comfortable bed. It had been years since the King of France had taken an active part in patrolling French borders and the destruction of minor uprisings.

For an unknown restlessness had driven him out of the castle. A restlessness he could not understand, even less explain.

And lately he no longer had a wife at his side who kept him from daring notions like these. He was pretty sure that Catherine would have stopped him from marching out with his troops. Francis, his son and heir had been anything but enthusiastic about his departure as well, but Henry did not want to hear to his voice of reason. He had simply entrusted him and his newlywed wife Mary with France's state affairs and had followed his call of restlessness.
That has been six weeks ago.

It had even been longer since Catherine had left him. His wife had disappeared half a year ago, and so far and despite his intensive search, he hadn't even found a clue where his wife might have fled to.

At first he had reacted with annoyance to her disappearance. After all, he has been trying to find a way to get rid of her at the same time but she had beat him to it. Moreover, her flight had shattered his male ego. He hated being known as the man whose wife had gone astray. A King who entertained a variety of mistresses but was unable to tame his very own Medici-wife.

In the meantime he caught himself wondering how Catherine would react to specific situations and even if he would never admit it, he sometimes even missed her stubborn, unruly manners.

Quite secretly he didn't feel indifferent regarding her unexpected departure. Moreover, it was a mystery to him why his otherwise combative-inclined wife had quit his court without a whimper. What had surprised him was the fact that as of yet he hadn't heard anything from her, but from her damn Medici family instead. They had impressively tried to threaten him, that should he have something to do with the disappearance of his wife - one of them -, he would feel their wrath. A testimony that she had not fled to Italy, although the few clues he had found right after her flight indicated otherwise.

In general, behavior like that was rather unusual for her. If not atypical. Even more uncharacteristically since she hadn't made any attempt to contact her children.

"Your Majesty? Henry!" Cedric's voice snapped Henry out of his thoughts and unhinged the King. Cursing loudly he stumbled forward before he was able to break his fall.
"What is it?!" he bellowed irritated whereupon his friend made an apologetic gesture in his direction.
"I apologize, but our advance guard has discovered a monastery not far from here. Shall we send our men over there?"

Henry, who had meanwhile reached the bank, climbed up to Cedric and pointed at his jacket. The other man dutifully picked it up and followed him back towards their camp.
"Yes, but instruct them to behave themselves. It's best you accompany them."

It wasn't uncommon to collect additional food rations for the king's troops in the villages and the surrounding area. But in the countryside, where food was often scarce, the surrender of victuals was sometimes accompanied by unpleasant incidents.
In addition some of the soldiers were anything but squeamish and occasionally forgot their good breeding in their overzeal.

Because trying to have his marriage annulled didn't improve his already strained relationship with the Holy See in addition to Catherine's escape and the influence of her powerful Medici family. They were vigorously stirring up resentment against him, of that he was sure. It was therefore in his best interest not to attract further displeasure from Rome by commanding a raiding party in a monastery by force of arms.

Cedric acknowledged this request with a short nod and rounded up a small group of men who mounted their horses.

Henry slowly walked around Cedric's horse and patted the animal's muscular neck.
"Maybe if you stumble upon an anti-inflammatory ointment..." he said in a muffled voice only meant for Cedric's ears.
"Consider it done," his friend promised before spurring his stallion and galloping off with his men.

An hour later - Henry had meanwhile retired to his tent and brooded over his map - Cedric excitedly entered the royal tent.

"Henry! You won't believe it but I think I've found your wife!" The other man's voice cracked with excitement.
"Catherine?" The King failed to hide his irritation. "What's Catherine supposed to do in a monastery?" He verbalized the first thought that came to his mind.

"I can' tell. All I know is that the woman I've seen there IS Catherine de Medici, your wife." His friend insisted, looking intently at his King.

Henry shook his head in perplexity and began wandering up and down his tent restlessly. "You have to be wrong," he concluded after a moment's thought.
"I am absolutely positive. May I suggest that you convince yourself of the truth of my words?"

"Well, for all I care. Bring me this ominous woman." Cedric nodded in relief, bowed to his King and hurried off to comply with his assignment.

Wow, thank you soooo much for your reviews. I'm flashed and I'm very excited that you're willing to join me once again.
So what do you think? Is this woman really Catherine and what happend these last 6 month?
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