"My lords and barons, gentlemen of Guienne and France, our journey is
over to-day, our battles begin to-morrow! Our brothers are in danger,
the enemy is in sight! Men of the Cross, to arms!"
"To arms!" rang the reply in many voices, both high and deep, like a
major chord sounding from the heart.
As she rose, the nobles had risen, too, and only the King kept his
seat, his pale face bent, his hands folded upon the hilt of the sword
that stood between his knees. The Queen said no more, and, without
glancing at her husband, as if she alone were sovereign, she descended
the two steps from the throne to the floor of the tent. Three knights,
one of Gascony, one of Poitou, and one of her own Guienne, who were her
guard of honour, followed her as she passed out, smiling to the great
nobles on her right and left. And many showed that they desired to
speak with her--first among them the Count of Montferrat.
"Madam," he said, when he had bowed low before her, "I praise God and
the Holy Trinity that your Grace is alive to-day. I pray that you will
deign to accept the homage and felicitations of Montferrat!"
"Of Bourbon, Madam!" cried a voice beside her.
"Of Savoy, your Grace!" said another.
"Of Coucy, of Courtenay, of Metz--" the voices all rang at once, as the
lords pressed round her, for she had not been seen since she had left
the field after her fall.
"I thank you," she answered, with a careless smile. "But you should
thank also the man who saved my life, if you love me.
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