A Proud Taste for Scarlet and Miniver by E. L. Konigsburg Page A

grandest puppeteer in Europe. He believes that for a great performance, he needs only a few puppets and one very large stage—say from Scotland to the Pyrenees and a little bit eastward—say to Italy. That will do for the present. What your father does not realize, children, is that someone, not him, but someone, has put some guts into his puppets. Guts bleed, my husband. Look well. You have just drawn the first blood.”
    Then Queen Eleanor left the room. Her sons followed. The queen had at last what she had wanted: two sons unwilling to give up the taste of power they had and another one fighting mad to get it. John was nothing in this first rebellion, nothing except the excuse for it.

5
     
    WAR FOLLOWED . Father against son. Father won. King Henry finished his battles with his sons and headed for Poitiers. He knew now that his queen had cost him a war and his son’s loyalty. He was hell-bent for a show down. Queen Eleanor was not in Poitiers when he arrived. His fury grew. “Eleanor! Eleanor!” he shouted in the empty halls. Where was that woman?
    The truth was that Queen Eleanor was dressed as a knight and was riding toward the borders of France. Some of the king’s men were on a routine mission when they chanced upon a small band of knights close to the borders of the land of King Louis. They asked the knights the nature of their business. “Our business is none of yours,” answered one of the knights.
    “Whatever happens within these borders is our business. We are the men of King Henry, and this land is his.”
    “You are wrong. This land belongs to his wife,” answered the same knight.
    One of the guards said to another, “Only a very young knight or an old lady could have so brazen a tongue and so high a voice.” Saying that, he pulled the cap from the head of the saucy knight and found that the head with the quick tongue belonged to a lady. More than a lady. It belonged to a queen. Eleanor.
    She was taken to the king. The king looked at his wife and asked, “Was it you, Eleanor? Was it you who inspired the rebellion of my sons?”
    “Yes, Henry, it was.”
    The king nodded his head. “I thought as much. Were you going to Louis when you were captured?”
    “Yes, Henry, I was.”
    “You are without shame.”
    “I am not. A woman without shame has no pride, and I have plenty of that. Pride drove me out of England. Louis is still my overlord. I always say, Henry, that politics makes nicer bedfellows than marriage. Speaking of marriage, Henry, why don’t you divorce me? You have excellent grounds. There are no better grounds for divorce than treason.”
    “No, madam,” King Henry answered. “I shall not divorce you and set you free to marry someone else and then sue me for the return of the Aquitaine. There are other remedies for treason, my queen.”
    “Prison! Are you going to put me in jail, Henry?”
    “Call it
house arrest
, madam.” King Henry looked at his wife and saw her smile. “Why do you smile, madam? Don’t you fear being my prisoner?”
    “Fear is not something I am familiar with, Henry.
Loathing
is. I know that I shall loathe prison more than I shall fear it.”
    “Why, then, do you smile?”
    “Because, Henry, I know that I shall love that loathing, and that spark of love will keep me well.”
    The queen was taken to England. Henry wanted her far away from him and his sons while he negotiated peace with them. The Channel was high, and the wind was strong when they set sail. Just twenty years before they had made a similar stormy crossing, but that crossing had marked a union and a beginning. This crossing marked a separation and an end. King Henry again stood up in the boat, and he again thrust his fist at the storm. “Hear me, Lord?” he shouted, “see us safely through to the other side of the Channel. Let my will be done upon this woman before Thy will be done.”
    “Amen,” the queen said.
    King Henry looked at his wife and roared, “Why are you smiling now,