Princess of the Black Death | ✔️

Chapter XXXV

Bordeaux, France

The four ships pulled into port after an arduous expedition from the English Channel along the French coast. The open seas of the Atlantic rocked the boats more than Joan anticipated from her last journey out of the country. The rest of the trip would be on land, and for that Joan was grateful. Now that they had finally arrived in France, Joan knew it was not a long trek from Bordeaux to Bayonne, her wedding site. Her days as a single woman were numbered.

Once her stomach settled and her eyes stopped burning with tears, Joan felt she had sufficiently gathered herself before she emerged from the cabin to join the rest of the entourage on deck. If it was one thing she had ever learned, it was to conceal her emotions behind closed doors. Both her mother and her aunt Margaret perfected the poise and taught her well. It was critical present to the public strength and indifference with a touch of warmth to keep in general favour. She would not let anyone perceive her unhappiness and dread. When she finally met Pedro, there could be no whispers. Pedro must think she was nothing but excited and ready to be his bride.

The only problem was the one man who saw her with her emotions exposed.

"Keep this moment to yourself," Joan said while looking straight ahead.

"I will," John said.

"It was seasickness," Joan explained.

"Yes."

Joan dried her tears and reached out her hand for John to help her up from the bunk. Her hand was warmed by his. Her betrothed felt so far away still, and feelings were fleeting. She resolved that she could enjoy whatever ephemeral thoughts until then. If she was attracted to the soldier who guarded her, it meant nothing. She trusted him to not tell a soul about her raw emotions. Even a moment alone to let her guard down eased a lot of the tension she built up as she left England. She was glad to cry and have someone present to comfort her.

Even in the dim light in the cabin, Joan stood up and looked into John's warm eyes. They said nothing. He had a small smile like he was trying not to but couldn't help it. She wanted to put her hand on the side of his face, but she dared not. Robert Bourchier trusted his son completely to guard the princess, but she had not spent so much time alone with a boy before. John had been nothing but a gentleman. That didn't stop her heart from stirring with strange new feelings.

"John..."

"Yes?"

Joan blushed. Her mind went blank. "Never mind."

The ship had landed at the seaside city of Bordeaux in the English-friendly region of Gascony. Her family had a castle there, and it was their first land stop on the final leg of the journey. The plan was to rest for a few days to restock on fresh food and water. Joan was glad for the wait. Every day they moved forward was one more day towards not being able to turn back.

After the ships sailed on the Atlantic, they made their way down the long winding river inland called the Garonne. The river had been much more peaceful, and by the time they reached port, the boat had been almost still. The tall and many-spired Bordeaux church, higher than all the surrounding buildings, peaked up above the hills in the distance. The town was larger than Portsmouth, but the air was eerily devoid of city sounds. Only birds crowed in the distance.

Regaining her composure by the time the ship began to unload its cargo, she and John joined the crew on deck. Joan was surprised a port was almost empty of other people and ships but their crew. The port in Portsmouth was bustling with ships and shoremen. It was summer and during the early afternoon, so it seemed to Joan to be an expected time of day for other ships to arrive and depart. Except for some seabirds and the waves crashing against the dock, there were hardly any sounds. The general silence flooded around them. Joan asked Robert if they were perhaps at the wrong port, but he assured her they were correct.

"We are down a narrow estuary, and this is the biggest town on the river. There is no mistaking it for another," he said.

"How strange they do things in France," Joan said. "There is no one about."

It was not long until one man came running from the city gates, frantically waving one arm with a handkerchief against his mouth with the other. Because he was the first local person they had seen, everyone stopped what they were doing to watch him.

"Do not deboard!" the man cried in French. His voice bellowed, but he would not come within ten feet of everyone. "I am mayor of Bordeaux! The town is full of sickness! Please, find another port! You must leave at once."

For a moment, everyone was frozen in confusion. They had no plan for someone forbidding them to continue ahead. Joan looked back and forth between Robert and his son, but both of their faces were stoic.

"With all due respect, monsieur, we are on official business from King Edward III," Andrew Ullford, the diplomatic lawyer from her entourage, finally said.

"You are all in grave danger!" the mayor said.

"There is always some sickness going about," Robert Bourchier said with a wave of his hand. "We are on orders to reach the city of Bayonne and then to Castile before autumn. We cannot reroute all of this for some passing sickness."

"Then you must continue on away from Bordeaux as soon as possible! God save you!" he yelled and turned to run the way he came from.

Everyone stood silently for a moment.

"What a strange fellow," Joan remarked after he had gone.

"You needn't worry, Princess. The French can be eccentric people. I cannot be sure he was even a town official or a local lunatic," Robert said.

"It is imperative we keep to our schedule. If we do reroute, we have no way to alert King Alfonso, and if he thinks we are deserting our alliance, there could be serious consequences," Andrew said.

Joan looked over at John. He gave her a slight nod. "I am not afraid. I feel safe," she declared.

"Excellent! Then we will rest a few days in Bordeaux to resupply before we continue. The journey will continue as planned. You are in good hands, my lady," Robert said. He gestured for his son to follow him.

"I'll look out for you," John whispered.

"You are welcome to look," Joan said. She blushed. "I mean, I welcome your guard."