Part 30 (1/2)

”Fair Lady Joceliande, I crave a boon, and I pray you of your gentleness to grant it me.”

”But what boon, good Sir Broyance?” replied the princess. ”I know you for a true and loyal gentleman who has ever been welcome at my castle. Speak, then, your need, and if so be I may, you shall find me complaisant to your request.”

Thereupon, Sir Broyance took heart and said:

”Since our king died, G.o.d rest his soul, there has been no peace or quiet in our kingdom of Broye. 'Tis rent with strife and factions, so that no man may dwell in it but he must fight from morn to night, and withal win no rest for the morrow. The king's three sons contend for the throne, and meanwhile is the country eaten up. Therefore am I sent by many, and those our chiefest gentlemen, to ask you to send us Sieur Rudel, that he may quell these conflicts and rule over us as our king.”

So Sir Broyance spake and was silent, and a great murmur and acclamation rose about the hall for that the Sieur Rudel was held in such honour and wors.h.i.+p even beyond his own country. But for the Princess Joceliande, she sat with downcast head, and for a while vouchsafed no reply. For her heart was sore at the thought that Sieur Rudel should go from her.

”There is much danger in the adventure,” she said at length, doubtfully.

”Were there no danger, madame,” he replied, ”we should not ask Sieur Rudel of you to be our leader, and great though the danger be, greater far is the honour. For we offer him a kingdom.”

Then the princess spake again to Sir Broyance:

”It may not be,” she said. ”Whatever else you crave, that shall you have, and gladly will I grant it you. But the Sieur Rudel is the flower of our Court, he stands ever at my right hand, and woe is me if I let him go, for I am only a woman.”

”But, madame, for his knighthood's sake, I pray you a.s.sent to our prayer,” said Sir Broyance. ”Few enemies have you, but many friends, whereas we are sore pressed on every side.”

But the princess repeated: ”I am only a woman,” and for a long while he made his prayer in vain.

At last, however, the princess said:

”For his knighthood's sake thus far will I yield to you: Bide here within my castle until Sieur Rudel gets him home, and then shall you make your prayer to him, and by his answer will I be bound.”

”That I will well,” replied Sir Broyance, bethinking him of the Sieur Rudel's valour, and how that he had a kingdom to proffer to him.

But the Princess Joceliande said to herself:

”I, too, will offer him a kingdom. My throne shall he share with me;”

and so she entertained Sir Broyance right pleasantly until the Sieur Rudel should get him back from the foray. Meanwhile she would say to Solita, ”He shall not go to Broye, for in truth I need him;” and Solita would laugh happily, replying, ”It is truth: he will not go to Broye,” and thinking thereto silently, ”but it is not the princess who will keep him, but even I, her poor handmaiden. For I have his promise never to depart from me.” So much confidence had her mirror taught her, as it ever is with women.

But despite them both did the Sieur Rudel voyage to Broye and rule over the kingdom as its king, and how that came about ye shall hear.

Now on the fourth day after the coming of Sir Broyance, the Princess Joceliande was leaning over the bal.u.s.ter of her balcony and gazing seawards as was her wont. The hours had drawn towards evening, and the sun stood like a glowing wheel upon the farthest edge of the sea's grey floor, when she beheld a black speck crawl across its globe, and then another and another, to the number of thirty. Thereupon, she knew that the Sieur Rudel had returned, and joyfully she summoned her tirewomen and bade them coif and robe her as befitted a princess.

A coronet of gold and rubies they set upon her head, and a robe of purple they hung about her shoulders. With pearls they laced her neck and her arms, and with pearls they shod her feet, and when she saw the s.h.i.+ps riding at their anchorage, and the Sieur Rudel step forth amid the shouts of the sailors, then she hied her to the council-chamber and prepared to give him instant audience. Yet for all her jewels and rich attire, she trembled like a common wench at the approach of her lover, and feared that the loud beating of her heart would drown the sound of his footsteps in the pa.s.sage.

But the Sieur Rudel came not, and she sent a messenger to inquire why he tarried, and the messenger brought word and said:

”He is with the maiden Solita in the tower.”

Then the princess stumbled as though she were about to fall, and her women came about her. But she waved them back with her hand, and so stood s.h.i.+vering for a little. ”The night blows cold,” she said; ”I would the lamps were lit.” And when her servants had lighted the council-chamber, she sent yet another messenger to Sieur Rudel, bidding him instantly come to her, and waited in great bitterness of spirit. For she remembered how that she had promised to grant him the boon that he should ask, and much she feared that she knew what that boon was.

Now leave we the Princess Joceliande, and hie before her messenger to the chamber of Solita. No pearls or purple robes had she to clad her beauty in, but a simple gown of white wool fastened with a silver girdle about the waist, and her hair she loosed so that it rippled down her shoulders and nestled round her ears and face.

Thither the Sieur Rudel came straight from the sea, and--

”Love,” he said, kissing her, ”it has been a weary waste of days and nights, and yet more weary for thee than for me. For stern work was there ever to my hand--ay, and well-nigh more than I could do; but for thee nought but to wait.”