Chapter 4
Henry stepped outside and took a deep breath, silently enjoying the feeling of fresh oxygen flowing his lungs. A moment later he exhaled with a heavy sigh and reopened his eyes. Then he went in search of Cedric.
He found him among the other soldiers in front of a blazing fire. One of the men was stirring a huge cast-iron pot that smelled heavenly, while two others were busy eviscerating a freshly killed deer.
When Cedric spotted his King and friend, the stocky man gave the other soldiers a short nod and rose from his spot at the fire. Together they went for a short stroll outside their camp to talk without being overheared. But instead of giving in to the curiosity that was certainly eating him away, Cedric merely looked at Henry full of expectation.
"I can not believe that she had submerged in a convent of all things. Did you happen to find out more about the circumstances?"
"No, they didn't answer any of my questions. To be honest, your wife did not accompany me voluntarily," his silver-haired friend admitted. But Henry dismissed his remorse with a wave of his hand.
"Do not worry, my friend. I never expected that. Catherine isn't exactly known for her cooperation."
Lost in thought Henry scratched his stubby chin.
"Did anyone else recognise my wife or have seen you bringing her into my tent?" He finally asked.
"No," Cedric assured him. Henry nodded, then he went back to brood over his current dilemma.
After some minutes had passed, his friend dared to speak up.
"You don't know what to do with her, now that she's back?"
"Nobody knows her true identity, we are in the middle of nowhere..." Henry stopped and stared into the distance where the sun began to slowly sink into the nearest montain knowe, turning their surroundings into a beautiful red twilight.
"And no one would ever know what has happened to our missing Queen?" Cedric dared to cothe his thoughts in ords. Thoughts that triggered a pang of conscience in Henry. For a moment he allowed this cruel scenario to take place in his mind's eye, but then he shook his head vehemently.
Because no matter how many times he had threatened Catherine with death in the past, he wouldn't - no, he couldn't – murder her in cold blood and cover up her death like nothing ever had happened. After all, she was the mother of his children and he had loved her once.
A small and tentative voice from the bottom of his heart whispered that he had never stopped loving his wife. He simply had banished his feelings for her after their marital problems had become unbearable and opened his heart to other women instead. But if he was being honest with himself, the lion's share of his heart still belonged to Catherine. Even if neither he nor she ever wanted him to admit it.
That was probably one of the many reasons why he sometimes mistreated or even manhandled her harder than necessary. But his verbal and sometimes physical brutality had not diminished his feelings. It had just increased the abyss between them.
So now, if he pulled off murdering her cowardly without any sign of honor, he would basically kill a part of himself. And in the end there actually was no longer the need to get rid of his wife, since the Queen of Scots had changed her choice of a husband months ago and was now married to Francis, Catherine's and his first-born son. Which meant he didn't need to step up his efforts to legitimate his bastard son Sebastian. In addition, her reappearance at French court would hopefully make the treasury of her Medici family accessible for him once again. Something he and France sorely needed.
No, Catherine didn't deserve a malicious murder plot but care, welfare and some proper food. He would lie if her miserable condition didn't worry him. He had never seen his strong and usually unbreakable wife in such a fragile and gaunt state before.
"Tomorrow half of our troop will leave for the last three border point controls while the other half will escort their King and Queen back to court. Ride ahead and find an appropriate dress for my wife. Cedric, this conversation..."
Cedric hurried to complete his king's sentence.
"...never took place. I am convinced that this is the right decision, my King."
They both knew that Henry did not need any encouragement from his subordinate, but they knew each other well enough that Cedric enjoyed the privilege of speaking freely to his king.
"Nevertheless, I can't help feeling that Catherine will make me regret this decision rather sooner than later. Bring her something to eat, old friend. Meanwhile, I will pay this convent a visit." He was eager to learn more about Catherine's escape and her injuries.
With half a dozen of his guards, Henry arrived at the convent that had been his wife's home for the last six month. And although the impressive building was old and battered by the elements, the property looked well-kept.
Henry not only discovered fruit-bearing trees and multileveled vegetable patches, numerous herbs grew here as well.
The King of France climbed the narrow stairs and raised his fist to knock when the door was torn open and he found himself facing a skinnly nun that looked at him with a grim and resolute expression on her thin face.
"What else could your King possibly ask for of this convent and the poor women who have taken refuge behind these walls? You have already received a more than generous portion of our latest harvest! In addition, I demand that you immediately release the hapless woman you dragged away against her will! Go tell that your King." The nun ranted without a greeting and Henry could not help but feel respect for her courage.
"You can tell him in person, good woman," he replied milder than intended.
The old woman looked at him from head to toe, then bowed her head in acknowledgement without seeming ashamed for her previous outburst. For some unknown reason Henry liked her imperturbability.
"Well, your Majesty. Welcome to convent Saint Pierre de l'Almanarre. Come on in. But first I have to ask you and your soldiers to lay down your weapons. This is a peaceful house of God. I am Agnes, the Reverend mother of this order. Follow me."
Without giving Henry the chance of an answer, the old woman hurried away. He hesitated for a moment before taking off his sword and ordered his men to do the same. Then he followed the nun into a large hall.
When he entered the hall, some of the nuns left, dismissed with a nod by the reverend mother. The older woman made a welcoming gesture towards the wide wooden benches.
"Take a seat."
Her invitation sounded more like a command and Henry watched his soldiers immediately obeying her in amusement, all of them seasoned men.
"I can not imagine what a poor, unfortunate widow could have done to be dragged out of a convent by brute force. What is it you are accusing the woman of?"
She still sounded resolute and relentless. Henry, who remained standing, casually leaned against the table.
"So she told you she was a widow?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"A widow or maybe a wife on the run from her beating or alcoholic husband, what's the difference? Many of the women who seek refuge here have a similar or likewise past. Only they know the whole sad truth about their formerly miserable lifes."
Agnes slowly circled one of the tables and stopped directly in front of Henry.
"Who is her husband, that he has the power to personally involve the King of France in the search for her?" The reverend mother interweaved her callous, bony hands and looked at him with her intelligent steel-gray eyes.
"Her husband is none other than the King himself. Mother Agnes, you have housed your Queen within these halowed halls."
This revelation nearly discountenanced the woman. But she quickly recovered from her shock and put on a thoughtful expression.
"So Maria is Catherine de Medici?" She mumbled in surprise, rubbing her pointed chin. "Oh, that explains the Italian words she murmured in her feverish delirium." Her last words were merely spoken to herself but they made Henry prick up his ears.
"Delirium? So you know what has happened to her?"
"The only thing I know for sure is that you can thank God for your wife still being among the living. When we found her in the woods behind the convent, she was more dead than alive."
Henry had to swallow hard at this information.
"So she had other injuries besides those on her arm that I've already discovered?"
"No, but because of these injuries, Maria - forgive me, Catherine - came into contact with some kind of nerve toxin. Something we did not know at first and that was nearly fatal for your wife."
"Were you able to cure the poisoning?"
"Only partly, I'm afraid. Your wife is still weak. In fact, she's only been back on her feet since a few weeks." Henry closed his eyes for the fraction of a second and sent a silent prayer to heaven, thanking God for saving his wife.
"I hope you forgive me for speaking frankly, your Majesty. This convent would be a safe place for Catherine. A place where she would be taken care of." Henry, who had already opened his mouth in protest, felt Mother Agnes bony yet surprisingly strong hand on his arm, stopping him.
"We may be common nuns and our convent may be secluded, but the rumors that you're seeking a way to annul your marriage with your Medici wife has even got through to us."
Only now did she allowed the king of France to take the floor.
"Then I suppose the rumors have reached you sooner than the truth, Mother Agnes. I do not intend to annul my marriage, nor divorce Catherine. But I thank you for your kindness and the self-abandonment you bestowed on my wife. And for nursing Catherine back to health. Of course I'm going to show you my gratitude. Do tell, does Catherine still have any belongings here? We shall leave tomorrow."
"In that case I trust your words you have spoken on blessed ground. We have found your wife with nothing but her bloodied and torn clothes on her back. A few days after finding her, we stumbled upon eight dead and nearly naked men. Next to them was a burned out coach. I assume that was your wife's carriage. We have buried these poor men. And do not worry about a possible compensation. Catherine has already shown us more gratitude than necessary."
The old woman pointed at the ceiling, which, to Henry's surprise, seemed to be restored.
"She gave me her necklace and earrings in order to sell them to make some much-needed expenditures."
Henry nodded in understanding but pulled out some coins and put them on the table nevertheless.
"And hereby I show you my own gratitude for saving my Queen."
He looked at the nun thoughtfully, undetermined as to whether he should really ask the question that was on the tip of his tongue.
"Thank you, even though it isn't necessary," Mother Agnes replied, slightly bowing her head in a thankful gesture. Then she looked up again and pierced him with her attentive eyes. Eyes nothing seemed to escape.
"Go ahead, ask."
"Catherine was wearing a habit and a veil. I'm just wondering if my wife...", Henry hesitated for a moment before continuing. "... did she take a vow?"
He did not know if it was his question in general or his discomfort in particular that tempted the old woman to smile in amusement.
"You want to know if your wife has become a bride of Christ?" Agnes surprisingly laid her bony hand on his. "Do not worry, your Majesty. Just like us nuns, the women who have taken refuge here wear our habit for reasons of protection when going outside of the convent. Your wife did not become a nun."
A relief he could not even explain seeped through his innermost. Henry nodded, then started to leave the hall. But mother Agnes held him back.
"I assume that there are no female servants among your entourage, are there?"
Henry abnegated in irritation.
"Then allow me to send you one of our novices to help your wife on your trip back home. She'll arrive tomorrow morning at dawn."
This time, too, she sounded resolute and Henry realized that she was not willing to withdraw her offer. So he thought about it for a moment and recognized the benefit of her proposal which prompted him to nod in agreement.
"Fine, send her." He paused before asking his next question. "Agnes, you don't happen to have a pain-relieving or anti-inflammatory tincture?"
The nun looked at him with her intense eyes, then she nodded.
"Of course, I'll prepare something for you. The novice will bring it."
Henry thanked her and signaled his soldiers to get ready for departure.
When the King and his soldiers returned at their camp, a blanket of darkness had already descended upon them. Only the flickering lights of several small campfires and some torches bestowed some diffuse light.
Henry searched for their camp chef and ordered his food to be delivered within the next few minutes, then he retired to his tent.
The sight that greeted him was completely different from anything he could have imagined. The tray with food was still on the table, most of it was not even touched. Catherine was sitting in his chair, her head tilted sideways in the most uncomfortable way. Quite obviously she had fallen asleep from exhaustion before she had finish her meal. Even in her sleep he could detect small worry lines on her forehead. She looked restless.
He crossed the distance between them as quietly as possible and dropped on his knees in front of her. Carefully as not to wake her, he pulled her left sleeve up to examine the extent of her injury without her stopping him this time.
With a heavy sigh he pulled her sleeve back down and got up. Henry stroked her cheek with his fingertip, then he picked Catherine up to carry her to his sleeping cot. Her light weight shocked him and made him realize once again how critical her condition must have been.
He had to make sure his wife was eating enough in order to regain her strength.
Just when he had laid her down, her eyelids began to flutter.
"Go back to sleep," he whispered, spreading his fur over her petite form.
"Is this a dream?" She murmured in confusion, blinking up at him tiredly. "Is that you, Henry?"
"Shhhhh, it's all right. I'm here, mon coeur. Go back to sleep."
Uncertainly he raised his hand and stroked Catherine's cheek for a second time this day.
How long had it been since he had last bestowed his wife with tender care and love?
Way too long it seemed.
Thank you so so much for reading this story, for taking time to write a review, for your kind and encouraging words. That's what keeps me going.
I hope you like this new chapter. There will be lots of Cathry in the next chapter, I promise.