The Gauntlet Pt. 05 - Finale

"You should not have denied me," he said, speaking softly. "I did not wish to hurt you."

I didn't respond. After a few minutes of silence, Le Gris stood and threw the bag of coins on the bed and walked out.

I curled into a ball under the blanket and cried. I must have slept because the next thing I knew, Penny had returned and was washing my face with a warm cloth. I could not tell her what had happened. I lied, telling her that I was just sick.

She had me drink the dittany tea, and when I realized your mother would be home, I forced myself to get up and get dressed. When she arrived, I wanted her to think nothing terrible had happened, so I pretended to be in good spirits, singing and laughing as I helped prepare dinner.

*****

Court of Count Pierre

Argentan, France

"This is an outrage!" Jacque le Gris shouted, having just heard Lady Marguerite recite her story. "I have never been to Campomesnils! I have never laid with this woman! I was here, at Argentan for the entire month of January!"

"Silence!" Count Pierre demanded. "You will have your chance to address the charges! One more outburst and I will have you taken to the dungeon in chains! Is that clear?"

Jacques le Gris' face was red with fury, but he held his tongue and nodded his head to his liege lord. "I understand."

"Sir Jean," the Count began, trying to calm the atmosphere. "What evidence do you have to support your claim?"

"Evidence?" Jean asked, "What do you mean evidence? You have my word as a knight and that of my wife, the Lady Marguerite."

"Your word is not in question, Sir," the Count said, "but this is a serious matter and not to be taken lightly. Rape is a capital offense."

"I know full well that it is," Sir Jean replied, "I will kill him myself if you don't!"

"Sir!" Count Pierre countered, "you will respect the orders of this court, or you will also be thrown in the dungeon! Now, are there any witnesses that can confirm Lady Marguerite's claim?"

"His man Louvel was there, but God knows he will lie to save his own neck. He is just as guilty as Le Gris."

"What of your household servants? Your mother?"

"They were not at the estate at the time," Jean replied.

"So, there are no witnesses?" the Count asked rhetorically. "Have you anything more to offer as proof?"

"Only my honor," Sir Jean answered.

"Yes, well, that won't prove anything. Very well," the Count said, turning to Jacques le Gris, "What say you, Le Gris? Did you force yourself upon Jean's wife, Lady Marguerite on the 18th of January or any other time?"

"Of course not!" he replied angrily. "I have never forced myself on any woman. This is just an angry attack by my former friend who blames me for all of his hardships."

"Where were you on the morning of the 18th of January?

"I was here, as you well know, attending to you in Court!" Le Gris replied. "There is no way I could have gone to Campomesnils, raped his wife, and returned back here before attending you for dinner."

"It is not impossible!" Jean challenged, "It is but a two-hour ride from Argentan to Campomesnil!"

"In summer!" Jacques countered, "not in the middle of January when the roads are either ice or mud! You know, this is not the first time he's accused me of this! He tried to get his first wife Jeanne to accuse me of rape, but she refused! He beat her for defying him! Can't you see? He is jealous of me and has coerced his wife into giving false testimony against me! He has likely threatened her or beat her to get her to lie against me!"

"Lady Marguerite," the Count called out, and Marguerite stepped forward, shaking in fear. "Has your husband threatened you or coerced your testimony in any way?"

Marguerite glanced from her husband to Jacques and back to the Count. She lowered her gaze. "No, my Lord, he has not."

"And you swear that your testimony is the truth, so help you, God?"

"I swear it."

Count Pierre, uncharacteristically, treated Jean's charges seriously and spent several hours, listening to everything Jean and Marguerite had to say. He questioned Jacques le Gris, even interrogated Adam Louvel, Lady Nicole and Penny. Finally, he shook his head.

"Sir Jean," he said with a deep sigh, "I know that you and your wife are convinced you were wronged by Jacques le Gris. Perhaps your wife confused the man who raped her for Jacques, or maybe she fantasized the entire encounter. There simply is no evidence to convince me of guilt for a charge that if guilty, would mean Le Gris' death. Therefore, I must find him innocent."

Jean could not believe his ears. "He raped my wife, and by God, I will see him pay!'

"You will respect my judgment!"

"To the Devil with you and your judgment! You are biased against me! Le Gris is your pet, and you are protecting him!"

"You, sir, need to mind your tongue! I understand your outrage, and I am giving you some latitude. If you do not cease, you will soon find yourself at my displeasure! Now, take your wife, and go home!"

"I do not, and will not respect your judgment!" Jean replied, angrily. "I demand my right to appeal!"

"Are you mad?" the Count asked incredulously. "Jean, you cannot sincerely believe the King will hear this case? I strongly urge you to drop this matter! You cannot win and will destroy everything you have left. Go home! Think no more on this."

"I will not, my Lord! I cannot!" Jean replied, impassioned. "Jacque le Gris violated my wife, and I will have my justice, one way or another. I demand my right to appeal to the King."

The Count shook his head, letting Le Gris know silently that there was nothing he could do to stop Jean. It was his right as a noble to appeal a decision, and since the Count was subject only to the King, any such appeal would go to him.

"Very well," the Count said. "I defer this matter to King Charles. I will send a letter to His Majesty informing him of my judgment and your desire to appeal. You will need to go to Paris and petition the King. Go with God."

Jean was dismissed. He immediately gathered his family to return home.

"Now, what will we do?" Marguerite asked. She was terrified. Testifying before the Count and accusing Jacques of rape was the hardest thing she had ever done. She wanted it all to just go away. "You are not seriously going to Paris to appeal to the King, are you?"

"No," Jean said. "I am not. We are."

*****

Château de Vincennes

Royal Residence

Paris, France

March - April, 1386

Jean and his entire household moved to Paris, seeking an audience with the King. For weeks, they waited, spending time and money, in Paris awaiting the King. Jacque le Gris and Count Pierre had also come to the capital to deal with the matter. At some point, the King would hear Jean's petition and decide whether or not to retry the case.

Marguerite was clearly pregnant, having a substantial bump appearing in her belly. She was depressed and seemed to be ill, either from the pregnancy or from her horrible guilt. Jean did not fare much better, still sick from his Scottish expedition, harboring a lingering cough and bouts of weakness.

The King had been advised by Count Pierre about the charges and warned about Jean's unpredictable nature. The King was only seventeen and was very impressed with the romance of chivalry and knighthood. Sir Jean was known to him, for his bravery and the many battles he had fought in. When Jean had visited the King after his trip to Scotland, the King had rewarded him heavily and felt great respect for the older knight.

However, his uncles and advisors, who held the real power in France, cautioned the King to avoid hearing Sir Jean's petition. They were worried that having such a high-profile matter could be a major scandal and hurt their desire to press the war with the Flemish. They advised him to delay the case until Sir Jean ran out of money and went home.

As time passed, Sir Jean gained support from other nobles, who sponsored his time in Paris and gave him loans to offset the costs of remaining in the capital. The King could not continue to refuse to hear his petition, so his uncles suggested that the King hear the matter, then refer it to Parlement, so that he would not be forced to make the decision. Let Parlement take the blame for the outcome.

So, Sir Jean was invited to present his petition for appeal to the King at his castle of Vincennes. Jean and his entourage traveled to the castle and waited for hours for the King, so see them. Finally, they were escorted into the throne room. The King looked to his uncles and smiled. He had memorized the speech they had written for him. He was ready.

Jacques le Gris was present with his lawyers. The Ladies Marguerite and Nicole were present as well, huddled in the back of the room with the De Carrouges group. Everyone waited nervously for the matter to be addressed.

Sir Jean was announced, and he stepped forward, then knelt before the King.

"Sir Jean," the King spoke, "It is with sadness that I welcome you before me this day. I understand why you are here. I am truly sorry for any wrong that was done to your wife, but I urge you, Sir, reconsider the course you take."

Jean raised his head. "Your Majesty, I thank you for your words and your advice. Unfortunately, my honor demands justice. I charge, that on January 18th of this year, the Squire named Jacques le Gris, with his accomplice Adam Louvel, did violently and without consent force my wife, the Lady Marguerite, to have carnal relations against her will. I further charge that the verdict rendered by Count Pierre d'Alencon in the matter was biased and unfair, driven not by the truth, but by his love of the accused, who serves as his personal chamberlain. This verdict is unjust and unjustified. Therefore, before God and King, I demand my right to appeal."

The room was silent, save for the crackling of the fire in the large hearth. The Count of Valois, the King's uncle, nodded to the king, urging him to recite the prepared speech.

"Sir Jean, it is your right to request such an appeal. I hereby defer the matter to Parlement to decide the guilt or innocence of the accused."

"You misunderstand me, your Majesty," Jean interrupted. "I do not seek judgment from you or Parlement, but from God Almighty."

Jean drew his sword and raised it over his head. Suddenly, the King's guard lunged forward, weapons drawn. Angry shouts rang out, and everyone stared in shock and disbelief that Sir Jean de Carrouges had bared a blade in the presence of the King. He made no move but knelt with his sword pointing to heaven.

The Count of Valois, alone among those present, recognized the ancient gesture Jean had made. He ordered the guards back and stepped between the King and the kneeling knight.

"Are you certain this is the course you wish to take," he asked Sir Jean.

"It is," Jean replied.

The Count of Valois bowed and stepped back and said, "So be it." The King looked up at his uncle, uncertain as to what was happening and how to proceed.

Jean continued. "As is my right as a noble and as a Knight, I demand trial by combat."

The King was surprised and turned to his uncle. "Trial by combat? Is he serious?"

The Count of Valois nodded solemnly, then spoke to the King. "It is his right. There has not been a judicial duel allowed in a capital offense in France in almost two-hundred years. You must not allow it."

"He cannot deny my claim or my right to trial by combat," Sir Jean stated directly. His lawyer, the most famous and influential lawyer in Paris, stepped forward.

"Your Majesty," he said, "Parlement has outlawed judicial duels in all matters except those of capital offenses. Rape is a capital offense. Sir Jean has a right to demand justice and defend his honor and the honor of his wife."

The head of Parlement stepped forward, "With all due respect, Parlement serves as the judicial body for his Majesty. It is for Parlement to decide the guilt or innocence of the accused. Let Parlement hear the case and fairly judge it."

"I have had a fair judgment delivered already," Sir Jean said bitterly. "I've seen what money and influence can do to justice and fairness. I will not allow any man to decide this matter. Therefore, I appeal to God and God alone to judge the truth in this matter."

The Count of Valois spoke again, "You sir, are being insolent and disrespectful. The King is not the Count d'Alencon, and he will sit with Parlement in judgment. Do you question your King?"

"No, my Lord Count," Jean answered carefully, "I do not question the King or his ability to judge fairly. I question the lies told to him and the faithlessness of those who tell them so that a fair judgment can be fairly reached."

"I will allow it!" The King declared. His uncles tried to dissuade him, but he ordered them to be silent. "I will allow you your duel, Sir Jean, but Parlement will hear the case first, and I will oversee their judgment. If we are unable to render a verdict, then and only then will this duel take place. That is my decision."

Everyone bowed to the king, then before anyone could stop him, Sir Jean sheathed his sword and stood. He removed the gloved gauntlet from his sword hand and walked across the room, in the presence of the King and stood before Jacque le Gris. He slapped him in the face with the glove and tossed it to the floor at his feet, looking at him with the purest hatred.

"I challenge you, Le Gris!" he snarled.

Jacque le Gris turned and stared at the Lady Marguerite, then picked up the gauntlet and tucked it into his belt.

"I accept."

*****

Priory of Saint-Martin-des-Champs

Paris, France

December 29, 1386

The glove flew through the air in an arch, and before it landed in the sand, the two knights gave spur to their warhorses. The enormous beasts snorted and lunged forward, into full gallop within three strides. Sir Jacques le Gris was the first to lower the tip of his steel-shod war lance, aiming for his opponent's heart. A second later, Sir Jean de Carrouges gained control of his lance and brought it down, its sharp point rushing toward the body of his enemy.

The thunderous sound of the heavy horses' hooves shook the walls of the courtyard. Marguerite watched in shock and horror. The King leaned forward in his seat, feeling a rush of adrenalin. Everyone watched in breathless silence as the distance between the knights rapidly became smaller and smaller.

They struck with violent ferocity. The sound of metal on wood blasted into the courtyard of the abbey. The crowd involuntarily gasped at the shock of the impact. The horses continued their run to the end of the list, then began to slow.

Both men had raised their shields in time to block the lance from doing deadly damage, but the force of the impact had stunned them both. Sir Jean had been knocked backward by the blow and lay senseless on his back, still on his horse. Sir Jacques leaned over the saddle and shook his armored head, trying to clear his mind. He shouted out and spurred his horse hard, pulling roughly on the reins, causing the beast to spin about. He swung the reins, slapping the beast on the flanks and charged forward, lowering his lance and aiming for his vulnerable, and unprepared enemy.

*****

Paris, France

December 28, 1386

The Night Before the Duel

De Carrouges Chambers

Jean was preparing to go to the chapel for a final mass and to pray for victory on the morrow. His wife, Lady Marguerite, was fretting at needlepoint, trying to take her mind off things and failing. The order from Parlement had come the day before. She had been charged with perjury, her judgment to be determined by the outcome of the judicial duel between her husband and Jacques le Gris. If her husband lost, then that meant Le Gris was innocent. If Le Gris was innocent, it meant Lady Marguerite had lied and perjured herself to the King and Parlement, which was punishable by death.

She knew her death would neither come easily nor quickly. She would be burned alive, like a witch or a heretic; taken to a place of execution, tied to a stake, surrounded by oil-soaked logs and set ablaze. Marguerite shuddered involuntarily and stuck herself with the needle.

Just then, someone knocked on the door to their chamber. Penny opened it, and Sir Robert de Thibouville came in.

"Father!" Marguerite exclaimed and leaped to her feet, throwing her arms around the man.

"Marguerite," he said as his tears fell freely. "My child."

Sir Jean stood and bowed to his friend. "I will leave you two to talk," he said, "I must be going to the church."

"No," Sir Robert said, "Sir Jean, I've come to talk to both of you. Please."

Sir Jean stopped and poured a cup of wine for the three of them. "Speak freely, my friend."

"As you know, I have extensive estates in France, but also abroad. I have a large estate in Tuscania, in northern Italy, outside the reach of King Charles. I have a boat waiting for us now, on the Seine. I've also bribed the guards to make certain that they are gone for the next hour. Come with me, both of you. Let us leave this place, and you can live the rest of your lives in Italy. There is nothing here for you, but death."

Marguerite perked up excitedly and turned to her husband. "Jean! This is our chance! We can leave and forget all about Jacque le Gris, Count Pierre and all of them! We can be happy!"

"And how would we live? I would lose all of my ancestral lands, my home, my fortune. We would have nothing!"

"We would have each other and our son! We would be alive!"

"And what of my honor?" Jean asked.

"Fuck your honor, Jean," Sir Robert declared, "and your pride! Look at you! You're sick! You're weak. Jacque le Gris is healthy, and he outsizes you greatly."

"I've fought sick before," Jean said, "I'm not so easy to kill, Robert. I don't fear Jacques le Gris.

"You are doomed if you step into that list tomorrow! With your doom comes the doom of my daughter! I would see her live! Your pride forces you to do this, not your honor."

"Is it pride to see the man who raped your daughter punished for his crime?" Jean asked.

"Of course not," Sir Robert replied, trying to soften his approach. "Jean, you've done enough. Everyone in Paris, Hell, in all of France, knows about this duel and why it is being fought. You have destroyed his name and his reputation! You don't need to kill him!"

"If I abandon the duel and flee," Jean replied, "Jacques will be acquitted. What's more, Marguerite and I will be convicted of making false accusations. His public image will be resurrected. To make it even worse, my lands and estates will be taken and given to him."

"Is that what this is about? You've more concerned about your land than your life or the life of my daughter?"

"It is about the truth! It is about doing what is right! It is about justice!"

"Jean, please, I beg you," Marguerite pleaded, kneeling in front of her husband. "Let them call me a whore! Let them call me a liar! I don't care, but let us flee here now. Please!"

Jean wrenched his hands from his wife and stepped aside. "I will not betray my oath and destroy my honor. I have nothing more to say. We will not run away. Say your goodbyes. I must be to Church." He looked down at his wife with an odd mix of love and hate on his face. "I suggest you make peace with God."

Jean turned and strode out of the room.

"Oh, father!" Marguerite cried out, "What have I done?"

*****

At the Duel

Jacques Le Gris leaned into the saddle as his horse charged across the field, bearing down on Jean de Carrouges, who had yet to sit back upright. Jean could hear the sound of the horse running toward him. He grabbed onto the saddle horn and hauled himself up. His horse was well trained to combat and immediately ran to meet the challenge, without having to be told.

Jean struggled to focus, staring through the narrow gap in his visor, his own heavy breathing sounding louder inside the metal shell than anything else. He raised his shield and just managed to couch his lance when, in a flash, he saw his opponent in front of him. He tilted the lance up, hoping to come over his enemy's lance to stroke for the throat.