Via Crucis: A Romance of the Second CrusadeCrawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion)
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Via Crucis: A Romance of the Second Crusade
Crawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion)
Crusades -- Second, 1147-1149 -- Fiction
"Will you answer a fair question fairly, Master Gilbert?" he asked,
looking his friend in the eyes.
Gilbert had fallen into the habit of treating him like a man, as most
people did, excepting the Queen, and gravely nodded an answer.
"Do you not think that the Queen of France is the most beautiful woman
in the world?"
"Yes," answered Gilbert, without a smile, and without the slightest
hesitation.
The boy's eyes, that were so near together, gleamed and fixed
themselves in rising anger, while a dark red flush mounted from his
bare throat to his cheeks, and from his cheeks to his forehead.
"Then you love her?" he asked fiercely, and the words were thick on his
lips.
Gilbert was not easily surprised, but the conclusion was so sudden and
unexpected that he stared for a moment in blank amazement before he
smiled.
"I?" he exclaimed. "I love the Queen? I should as soon think of
coveting the King's crown!"
Henry looked into Gilbert's face a moment longer, and the blood slowly
subsided from his own.
"I can see that you are in earnest," he said, picking up the ball at
his feet, "though I cannot see why a man should not covet a king's
crown as well as a king's wife." He struck the ball.
"You are young," said Gilbert, "to ride atilt through all the Ten
Commandments at once."
"Young!" exclaimed the boy, keeping the ball up. "So was David when he
killed the giant! So was Hercules when he strangled the serpents, as
you told me the other day. Young!" he cried a second time, with
forcibly concentrated contempt. "You should know, Master Gilbert, that
a Plantagenet of thirteen years is the match of any other man of
twenty. As I can beat you at tennis, though you are six years older
than I, so I can beat you in other matters, and with the Queen herself,
even though she is half in love with you already, as all the court is
saying; and she shall belong to me some day, though I have to slay that
dish-faced prayer-master of a king to get her."
Gilbert was no more morally timid than he was physically a coward, but
he looked round with some anxiety as the boy uttered his outrageous
boast.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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